Kaleidoscope

four

“She acts like summer and walks like rain.” - Train, Drops of Jupiter

The bus dropped them near the bridge, at a part of the river Jesse didn’t know. The water here moved more quickly, warping the reflection of the bridge into shiny static. Kat crossed the path and stood by the railing, tilting her face into the breeze.

“It’s pretty,” she said. “Very peaceful, don’t you think?”

Jesse shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt. “Yeah.”

“That’s why you like it here.” It wasn’t a question.

He nodded.

Kat smiled. “I hope I’m not intruding, then.”

“No, it’s fine.” Exhausting. Difficult. But still fine somehow. “Although…”

“Although what?”

“I don’t know how to say this.”

She laughed. “Just say it. It’s a language, not a science.”

“Fine.” He took a deep breath. “Why are you here? You’re in remission. Life is wonderful. Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

If she heard the sarcasm in his tone, Kat didn’t let on.

“I am,” she said. “Just… not the usual way. My parents wanted to take me to lunch - that’s the kind of celebration you meant, isn’t it? But I said no.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to get out. To do something different. I wanted to run wild, though I’m doing a very good job.” She grinned. “Riding the bus doesn’t count, does it? Anyway. I know it’s difficult to understand.”

“Not really.” Living with a shadow overhead - Jesse knew how that felt. He knew the lines it could draw around you, the limits it set. Kat’s shadow was gone now. No wonder she wanted to run wild.

Jesse’s limits should have vanished, too. But his shadow had turned out to be made of ink. And when it dissolved, it had stained every part of him.

Kat tugged at the ends of her hair and looked past him at the water. “It’s hard, you know?” She said quietly. “I mean, not now. Not yet. But it will be. My family… they only know me as the sick girl, the one who never lost hope and all that. I don’t want hope anymore. I just want to be happy.”

“You are,” he told her.

She smiled, slightly taken aback.

“Sorry,” he said. “What I meant was, you look it. You act it. No, forget that. You’re goddamn euphoric. You’re a celebration all on your own.”

Kat laughed. “You say it better than I do. But, yes, that’s what it feels like. That’s what I want.” She pushed back her hair with one hand, holding on to her flowers with the other to keep them from blowing away in the wind. “I am going to a party, though, since you asked. My friend’s brother is having one for me this evening.”

“Why his brother?”

Kat shifted her eyes away from his again, towards the river. She fiddled with a flower stem. “Landon, he… he died. In October. I fell into the habit of staying in touch with his brother after that. No, don’t apologize,” she added, seeing his face. “I have enough sorrys to last me a very long time.”

Jesse nodded. He didn’t understand happiness, but he understood death. Apologies made everything worse. Apologies were for the guilty, not the grieving.

“So. This’ll be your first party,” he said instead.

“It will. First everything, really.” Kat raised the flower she was holding and indicated the scenery around them with a fast, sweeping motion. “It’s my first time seeing this, too. You come here often, right?”