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Chapter 7

Guy

It was my junior year at Alden. It was all a bit of a sham anyway. I was already signed with the Seattle Sealpups and would be leaving at the end of the year. I’d stayed every summer to take extra classes so I could finish my degree early, hoping I’d get picked up by some NHL team. That sounds cocky, but I had scouts beating down the door all through my senior year of high school. It was overwhelming with just Grandmere to help me figure it all out.

So, I stayed on at Alden to prove I was worthy of my meal ticket after I signed.

Kitty and I fell out of touch over the years. She sent lots of messages in those first few months after Maman died, but I kinda hid from them. I still talked to Frank, or at least exchanged Snaps with him. Heather called me every once in a while to check on me, and sent me care packages full of my favorite goodies.

But sometimes talking to Kitty was too painful. Kitty was the one who held my hand and took care of me when Maman died. She held onto me as they closed the casket. She made sure I ate and helped me sleep until her family had to leave after the funeral.

I never told my poor girlfriend at the time, Elise. She was another case of a girl who I wasted time with while the one I really cared about was unreachable.

And I wasn’t in a place where I could reach Kitty anyway. It just hurt too much. Talking to her reminded me of Maman dying, and of the promise I made to her.

I still loved Kitty. I never stopped. But it was hard knowing she was so far away, and that I couldn’t have her.

Frank told me that she wrote a play that was getting put on at her school during her senior year. I tried to figure out a way to go to Charleston to see it, but it just didn’t work with my practice schedule. Instead, I found a little gold necklace of a tiny bird, the kind I’d seen on our street in West Virginia. I made sure it would arrive the day of her play starting.

My note read like this:

KB –

A little bird told me your play is opening tonight.

I know it’ll be great, because you made it. I’m so proud of you.

Love, Guy-Guy

She sent a snap with a picture of her wearing the necklace and a thank you. Later that night, after the play had closed, she sent me a text.

Kitty Bird

I miss you

I sat on it for a while. I missed her terribly, but I was embarrassed about how bad I was at keeping in touch. That night, after I’d had many drinks to celebrate our win over Princeton, I broke away from the party to call her. I left a voicemail that I’m sure was a drunken mess. It was 2 a.m., so of course, she was asleep like a reasonable high schooler. I don’t remember all of what I said, but it was something like this:

“Hey, Kitty Bird. I hope your play was good. You’re a star. I miss seeing you. I love you forever.”

She sent me a text reply in the morning.

Kitty Bird

You’re a dork. Love you too

And that was about the extent of it. At that point, I assumed our I love you’s had morphed into friendship I love you’s. I didn’t have the right to her heart, especially since I hadn’t done anything to earn it and had left her hanging. Again. Just like I did when I didn’t stick up for her after kissing her. I had my reasons, but I realized that I was in a pattern with her. Not a good one.

Frank told me she was going to Alden, but Kitty didn’t mention it. I think she was secretly mad for all the time I spent avoiding her. Maybe mad’s not the right word, but she understood that it wasn’t our time to try like Maman had asked.

Then on move-in weekend for freshmen, the Gattos insisted I join them for dinner while they dropped Kitty off. Kitty was civil, but didn’t say much. She was so fucking pretty, but there was a cool air about her that told me to back off. We had to wait at the restaurant, so Kitty and I stood outside while Mark and Heather sat to wait inside.

“So, Alden, huh?” I scuffed my shoes on the ground, hands in my pockets. “You get all moved in?”

“I didn’t come here for you.” The way she delivered it sounded like a mobster in a trench coat casually flicking her cigarette into the gutter. Our last interaction had been so friendly that I was somewhat shocked by her stormy mood.

“Yeah. I get it. You wanted to go here first. I had a full ride, so I went for it,” I said, trying to warm her up.

“Must be nice,” she scoffed. “Some of us will have debt for an eternity.”

Kitty was truly like a cat hissing at me. Maybe she was pissed at me.

“Well, it’s really good to see you again,” I tried. “Your necklace looks good. How was your play?”

She softened the tiniest fraction, touching the tiny bird at the hollow of her throat. “It was good. You should’ve seen Mr. Bangor trying to manage it all.”

She launched into the story and I did my best to encourage her and get her to smile. Luckily, our table got called, and we went inside. Heather ran the show, asking me about hockey and my schoolwork. Kitty was mostly pleasant until Heather asked me to give Kitty tips for school.

“Mom, I can settle in on my own just fine. Guy doesn’t have to be my tour guide,” Kitty insisted, cutting her salad into minuscule pieces. I’d never seen lettuce so small.

While it was good to see Mark and Heather, I couldn’t tell if Kitty was embarrassed by her parents or just wanted space from me. It probably was awkward for her. People spread rumors about us in the past. The rumor mill was probably turning again saying she followed me to college. But I didn’t see her much on campus, just a passing hello here and there. I got the impression she was doing her own thing. I figured when the time was right, I’d see her. I just hoped it was soon.

One fateful night in October, I got my wish. Oh, I got to see her, alright.

I was at a frat party. I wasn’t a frat member, but being an athlete gets you invited to a lot of parties. It was a real raucous one, just the kind I liked for finding a good-enough chick to go home with. In fact, a look around the room showed a number of previous hookups that I needed to avoid.

I was, shall we say, extremely sexually active. But I rarely repeated a hookup. I never really dated anyone. I definitely never loved anyone. That title was reserved for one person.

My attention was drawn to the bar, where some of the elder frat bros were helping some girls stand up on the bar. All of them were clad only in underwear and white t-shirts. Some frat boys stood by with water guns. I could see where the night was going.

“Pathetic freshmen,” Sonya, the girl who was hanging on me that night, said. “I can’t believe they fall for it every year.”

“Let’s see who the winner will be, shall we?” some douche named Ross called out. “Ladies, are you ready?”

One girl, in particular, threw her hands up, drawing the t-shirt up to reveal a very tiny thong. Like, so tiny I could see the sides of her pussy lips. I wished that little scrap of fabric weren’t there at all. Her legs were toned, meeting perfectly just after her knees. I could see the hint of her ass when she stepped her legs apart. She was hot as hell. My eyes drew upward and met a tiny bird necklace. And that’s when I realized who it was.

I locked eyes with hers, and she smirked. “STOP!”

I charged toward the bar and the crowd parted for me as I pushed through.

“What the fuck, Guy?” Sonya yelled after me. I barely heard her and I didn’t give a shit.

“Hi, Guy,” the girl on the bar crooned. Her eyes were slightly glazed over.

“Kitty Bird, get down from there. Where are your pants?”

“Not sure,” she said with a sly shrug. It set her off balance, and she almost fell off the bar. She had to be wasted, or close to it. I held her calves to stabilize her.

“I’m giving you one more chance to get down.” My tone wasn’t that far off from her dad when she was in trouble.

“Make me. Stop embarrassing yourself, Guy,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Okay, then.” I took off my jacket. I wrapped my arm behind her knees, forcing her to bend and fall over my shoulder. I put the jacket over her bare ass that hung next to my face as she squealed and thrashed. “You sure you don’t know where your pants are?”

“Let go of me, Guy Stelle! I can make my own decisions!” she screamed at me from behind my back.

“Not today, you can’t. Where are your pants?”

She lifted herself bolt up to my shoulder, sliding down the front of my body. I ignored the fact that her bare ass passed through my hands. “What the fuck are you doing, Guy?”

“I’m keeping you from getting into trouble, that’s what.”

“Oh, and you’re just rescuing me? What about all the other damsels in distress up there?” Kitty raged, flinging a hand toward the bar.

“ They’re not my best friend,” I huffed.

“Best friend? Really, Guy? You stopped talking to me!”

“You’ve been mad at me! You haven’t wanted to talk to me!” I objected.

“Before that, Frenchie!”

People were staring. One girl had her phone out, taking a video of the scene. I had to get us out of there if we were going to fight.

“We’re leaving,” I said. “We need to talk.”

“Fucking clearly,” she said, stomping off to a bedroom upstairs and hurling my jacket at me.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“To get my pants you want me to wear so fucking badly,” she yelled. I watched her ass jiggle with every indignant stomp she made. I had to tell my body to behave. I didn’t want to be attracted to drunk Kitty. Sober Kitty? All bets were off. But if I put moves on Kitty that night, I’d have been no better than the sleazebags downstairs running the wet t-shirt contest.

Kitty thundered back down the stairs a few minutes later in jeans, but no jacket.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” The outlines of her tight, dark nipples were visible through that white t-shirt. I’d seen way more of Kitty than ever in my life, all in the span of fifteen minutes.

“I’m fine,” she protested with a shiver. I sighed and helped her into my jacket, then stepped us out on the porch and ordered a ride.

“You think I’m going with you? Don’t think I don’t know about you. Everyone knows what a player you are,” she spat.

“I’m a player, but you were about to show your ass and titties to a room full of fucking predators? How does that work?”

Her cheeks flamed hot. “Don’t slut shame me, Guy. And you were in that room, too. I can do what I want.”

“Well, don’t slut shame me, either! I can do what I want, too!”

“Fine, but you’re the one who made me stop and dragged me out of there. How is that letting me do what I want?” she yelled, then hiccuped. Okay, that was a fair argument. But I still didn’t like it.

“Because I love you and I don’t want something bad to happen to you!” I snapped. “You’re drunk and can’t make good decisions right now. Those guys were primed to take advantage of you.”

“Whatever,” she sniffed.

I almost questioned my decision to pull her out of there.

Almost.

A few seconds later, she puked into the bushes off the porch. I rushed over to hold back her hair. I was in for a long night.