Paranoid. Insomniac.

Chapter 29: Touch

*KATARINA

Over winter break, Caldwell asked me to hang out over ten times. Eventually I couldn't make excuses. Yeah, he's piqued my interest, but it worries me. Does he have ulterior motive? Is he trying to make me trust him so he can stab me in the back? What if he actually kills me and it's not just a metaphor?

"It's him! Kat! He's here!"

Mom peeks through the blinds, watching my date in his car. Yeah, date. We've established that it's dates now. I still think we're just friends but I've never been one to trust people. What makes him think I'll trust that he wants to be my boyfriend or something?

Granted, he is fun to talk to. We're a week into school after the break and we always talk in the halls, catching up. Savannah found out we were friends and tried to convince me to date him. I told her no, obviously. I just met the guy. Well, I met him mid-December.

"I'm going! Please don't yell at him from the balcony. It's embarrassing," I rush out the apartment.

Mom mumbles something to get me out of her hair. Once I'm downstairs and open the car door she announces, "Have a good time, kids! Great to see you, Caldwell!"

"You too, Ms. Ira," Caldwell waves.

"Just drive," I utter, fastening my seatbelt.

He listens and drives off. He begins, "How was work?"

"Fine. Everyone's doing what they're supposed to, so that's good. How's the office building coming along?"

Caldwell's dad works for a construction company. It's why he moved here from Michigan. He also helps out with building things. He doesn't get a huge hourly pay like the other guys but it's a cool job to have, as he says.

"It's going good. Except there's an issue with the plumbing. That's not my expertise so I couldn't tell you what exactly is going on. However, I was told by the guys that I'm a natural with laying bricks."

"Oh?" The construction stuff doesn't interest me one bit. But sometimes you gotta make sacrifices to strengthen relationships. A few boring stories doesn't bother me.

Caldwell talks more about the construction on our drive to the movie theater. We've gone to coffee shops and seen Christmas decor in the parks, but his favorite activity is watching a movie. I don't mind it because we usually sit in the back where there's less people who might be stalking me from behind. Caldwell hasn't noticed my problem and I'd like to keep it that way. It might weird him out. He might assume I'm schizophrenic and think I'm a freak. Which is sad in itself but also not true. I don't have nearly enough symptoms but it's usually the worst case scenario that people assume.

We get to the theater and I see that a new horror movie came out. I tap Caldwell's shoulder, "Can we watch that one?" I point to the screen above us.

Caldwell pays the cashier, "I told you we're watching the new Avengers movie."

"Yeah, and I told you I didn't want to. Can't we come up with a compromise or something?" I ask shyly.

"Does it really matter?" He sighs.

"I'll be bored. I don't believe in all that superhero stuff. What if we watch a comedy?"

"We're holding up the line," Caldwell gestures to behind me.

"Sorry," I apologize to the people behind me and accept defeat.

"You want snacks?" He asks, walking towards the counter. I say sure and look at the candy shelves.

I grab Mike and Ikes and take them to the counter. Caldwell orders a big bucket of popcorn for us to share and two cherry slurpees. He sees what I grabbed and makes a face, "You like those?"

"It's a childhood staple. I kinda grew out of liking them but I always get them at the movies because they remind me of when my whole family would go and watch a new animation."

"Oh nice."

"I got them last time, you didn't notice?" I grin, wondering how he didn't see the colorful box of candy in my hands.

He shakes his head and we walk into our theater. We sit in the very back this time, away from everyone else. The commercials are almost over when I start eating my candy.

"Ready?" Caldwell smirks, draping his arm around my shoulders. Internally, I panic, but suppress those feelings.

Touch is something I've struggled with my whole life. I've consistently craved it while hating the touch of every person. But I haven't met every person the way I met Dominik. We just clicked. I don't fully understand it, but I don't want to think about it too much or else I'll freak myself out. Why him, right? Why couldn't I have that connection with Caldwell, for example? Someone who should be a safe person to hug and kiss and whatever else. Instead, I'm held tightly by a 23 year old stranger every night that I'm scared to sleep alone and his insomnia drives him insane... maybe I shouldn't say stranger anymore. He's done more for me than the people I call my friends. Damn. I need to get that thought out of my head-

"What superheroes are in this one?" I whisper, distracting myself.

"Iron Man, Spiderman... I don't know, just watch."

The movie starts and I can feel his fingertips hovering over my breast. If I say something about it, he might be upset. I don't mind his arm on me I just don't like exactly where it's placed. I shift under him so my body is leaning towards his and away from his hand. He takes it as a good sign, smiling.

***

The entire movie, I was battling his hand placement. I shifted uncomfortably so many times, he took his arm off my shoulders. Then he placed it on my thigh, riding it higher and higher until I told him, "Can you not, please?" I probably should've clarified, because the second I said that, he pulled away from me. I didn't hear a word out of him until we got into the car.

"What do you want from me?" He asks, locking the car doors.

"What?" Confused, and a little frightened, I glide my finger on the unlock button on my car door. Always have an escape plan.

"I thought you liked me?"

"I do! It's just, we're doing this really fast. It's hard to just be okay with it all."

"You don't want sex? Fine. Just tell me. Don't lead me on and make a fool out of me," He starts the car.

"I wasn't trying to-"

"Yeah," He fake smiles.

"I mean it! I like you! You're cute, charming, always buying me things. It's hard to not like you. I just don't want... sex. Yet, at least," I admit.

"You like me? Or do you love me?" He asks, looking me up and down.

"I barely say 'love' to my own family," I chuckle, trying to avoid the question.

"We can't continue this if I don't know whether I'm important to you or not."

"Of course you are!"

"Then say it," He laughs, "Is it so hard to say 'I love you'? Fuck it, I love you."

My breath catches in my throat. No boy has ever said that to me. Those words hit like train. I'm too shocked to think clearly enough for what I say next,

"I love you too."

The words fall out of me faster than I expected. It's almost like they were being forced out. Is that really how he makes me feel? So in love that I need to say it? He's only my first boyfriend. He's the first person who gets to hear those words. My question is whether he's my one and only, or someone else will take that spot? God knows I wouldn't be able to give my love away to anyone else once a guy has already claimed it. Maybe this is who I'll end up with. Maybe he's my soulmate. I'm willing to take those odds,

"I do... love you."