I had never thought of myself as stupid.
I'll admit, most of my actions are not well thought-out in general, just because I'm act on my intuition and my heart.
But this time, I really fucked up.
***
The moment I come back home, Kyle's car is gone. I thank my lucky star, because Lord knows I couldn't have supported the many questions him and his boyfriend would have bombarded me with upon seeing my puffy eyes.
Because the first tear had been shed the moment I had turned on my engine, and then the rest had followed suit. I had to endure the Saturday morning traffic, complemented with the ridiculously upbeat music coming from my car radio. I had been suffocating in my car, and the moment painfully reminded me of a few months ago, when a black Mercedes had crashed into my car.
What I would give to turn back time, I think, now that I am in my bed, with nothing to do to distract my mind. The crying and driving had felt very movie-worthy, but now I just feel like a sack of potatoes with no purpose.
It would never be the same again. What the hell went through my mind when I decided to kiss my therapist is beyond me.
But thinking about her makes me think about the kiss, and a very small part of me rejoices in the memory of her soft lips against mine, those beautiful blue eyes so close to mine.
And the vicious circle takes place. Loads of questions run through my mind.
Why didn't she push me away before the damage was done? Maybe she didn't realize I would go through with it. I should've stopped myself. But an almost-kiss would be as devastating as a kiss, as in the awkwardness would install itself nevertheless, and I wouldn't even have tasted her.
Then, did I dream when the faint whisper of a moan had reached my ears? Or did Diana really enjoyed me kissing her, deep down? Had she thought of kissing me like I had? Or was it a moan of irritation?
Burrying my face in my pillow, I scream in frustration, at myself, at Kyle for urging me on to be honest, at Diana for being so hot and cold. "What did she fucking expect, inviting me to restaurants, to have coffees, and then telling me about transference?"
I must be going crazy. I even talk to myself!
"What is transference?"
My head jerks to hard I hear a snap in my neck, and I swear under my breath before looking my best friend straight in the eye.
Before I can open my mouth to insult his ancestors though, Kyle rushes past the threshold on which is was leaning, and sits at the end of my bed.
"What happened Ken?" His voice is so soft that I barely recognize him, but Kyle is indeed sat, not fidgeting, an empathetic look in his eyes as he is gazing down at me. "And what is transference?"
Exhaling deeply, I brace myself for any cackle that might escape him after I tell him my little adventure.
"I didn't hear you come in. Transference is," I mumble, utterly ashamed of myself, "is when a patient is developing feelings for his therapist. According to Google, that is."
Kyle's face stays oddly serious, as a whisper escapes him. "So you told her."
I can't even look him in the eyes anymore, and I burry my face into the pillow again. "Not exactly," comes my weak answer.
"What do you mean, not exactly? You either told her or you didn't Ken."
When I stay silent, I feel the bed dip where Kyle is now laying, his hand caressing the very curls I had perfected this morning for a particular someone.
"Talk to me Kenny," and the words soft are enough to get me to break.
"I didn't tell her, because she probably realized that I liked her like that by the time I left."
I turn my face towards his, taking in the gentle brown eyes and the engaging smile.
"I kissed her, Kyle."
The smile disappears, as well as the gentleness of his gaze. "What do you mean kissed? Who? When? How?"
I smile weakly at his confusion.
"Well, I think you probably know who. Diana. Ms. Alexander. My therapist." His eyes are still wide, but his mouth stays shut so I keep talking, afraid of the heaviness of the silence between us. "About the how, well, let's see. So her lips were there, and I just .. kissed them."
The Kyle I know, love and hate appears again as he rolls his eyes at me, but he still stays silent.
"I just, I couldn't help myself. The plan was just to tell her that she intimidated me because I found her hot, but I just blacked out and next thing I know she's nearly back against a shelf and I'm kissing her."
"Wow," is the first word Kyle utters. Then, "Hot. Did she at least kissed you back?"
I narrow my eyes at him, not understanding how out of context he can be. "Kyle, I don't think that's what you should ask after what I just told you."
A little smirk curls his lips, surprising me. "And what, pray tell, the fuck should I ask? If you're out of you're mind? Obviously. If you regret it? Too late, it's done. If she slapped you? You would've deserved it."
I scowl, but deep down feel so glad to have a friend like him. Who else could be so brutally honest with me without making me want to strangle them, but instead making me laugh. Only Kyle.
"You're probably right. Though for your information, she didn't slapped me. She merely reacted in fact And I could have sworn that she - nevermind."
Kyle's knowing grin only amplifies, even under my narrowing glare.
"Anyway, where's your boyfriend?" I ask in an overly light tone to change the mood. "Didn't know you two weren't actually joined at the hip."
"Ha ha. Funny. No, he's actually downstairs, waiting for us. I kind of thought you needed something to change your mind, so I proposed we go see a movie." He sighs thoughfully, and slightly pinches my cheek. "Although I'll admit I didn't know you would need it that bad."
***
The light-hearted movie had done its job in changing my mind for roughly two hours.
Takumi, Kyle and I talk excitedly while leaving the dark room, along with several dozens of other people of all ages.
I catch Kyle glancing at me from times to times, none of his usual mocking facial features on display.
"Where do we go now?" Takumi asks as we find ourselves in the cold, burrowed in our thick coats.
"I need burger and fries! Right now!"
Kyle chuckles at me, shaking his head. "I still don't understand how you maintain that figure while eating what you eat." But soon enough, we make our way through the cold, finding a diner we sometimes go to when in need of greesy, junk food.
Around mouthful of fries and steak, our discussion soon revolves around my little mistake of the morning.
"What do you mean, you're not sure?"
I huff in annoyance. "I told you, Takumi! I could swear she was into it."
"But she pushed you away."
"She did."
"So she wanted you to stop."
"I guess."
Kyle interrupts suddenly. "But maybe, just maybe, she was into it, but then her professional side had to remember your dynamics; which is, she's your therapist, and you're her patient. Simple as that."
Glancing at Kyle, I realize he is not only very serious, but seems totally convinced by what he is saying. I can see it in the way he worries his lips, his eyebrows knit in thought. Takumi is too busy shoveling fries in his mouth now.
"I need girl friends. You guys are the worst. Also, Kyle, you don't even know anything about her, you see her like 4 hours a week in an amphitheater."
Kyle loudly swallows a gulp of his Sprite and snorts. "First of all, you had a female friend called Eva, and look how that turned out. Secondly, I still see her three hours more than you do. Thirdly, I'm a psychology major. I understand some humans in a way you don't, and I understand that my dear professor Alexander likes them young, green-eyed, curly-haired, caramel-skinned like you."
He finishes with a satisfied look on his face, and Takumi explodes in laughter after the little tirade. "Caramel-skinned", he repeats, mocking Kyle's voice. "That's so very corny, and so very you."
"Shut up."
"You shut up!"
"Make me."
Glaring at the two men opposite me, teasing each other and in their own little world, I feel like a total third-wheel.
But then, the time they spend whispering obcenities is less time spent talking about Diana. So I take a look around the diner, thinking that this should be the sign for me to start doing something for myself. Maybe, try a little harder in my Anatomy class. Or join a club, do something to clear my head. As I watch each patron of the diner distractedly, a curtain of straight jet black hair would retain my attention. Sometimes, a pair of blue eyes would catch mine, making my heart beat faster. Or I would stare at the waitress taking our dessert order a little too long, because she had long legs under a fitted black skirt, that reminded me of someone.
A snap of fingers brought me back to reality, as Kyle seems to have been trying to catch my attention for a long time now. Takumi turns to the waitress, "No desserts, thank you."
Two pairs of brown eyes then set on me, as soon as she's gone. Takumi speaks first, with an obvious appreciative wink. "You have good taste. She was hot, for a girl."
Before I can open my mouth to tell him to shut his, Kyle whispers in a teasing tone, while looking at me straight in the eye. "It's because she looks exactly like her therapist, my psychology professor. Long legs, long dark hair, Megan Fox lookalike, our Kennedy has a type."
Smartphone in hand, Takumi is already tapping his thumbs at a fast pace. "Damn, now I gotta see her! What's her full name, you said?"
Realizing he is probably about to look her up on Facebook, I'm mortified. Interpreting my silence the right way, Kyle's eyes widen dramatically. "Don't tell me you've never thought of stalking her social media?!"
"No, I haven't. It's not my style, and I already see her enough accidentally." I then turn to Takumi with a smile. "But now I'm curious. Her name is Diana Alexander."
When Takumi's jaw drops, I know he's found her profile. "Okay, I get it now. She's drop-dead gorgeous."
"Why didn't you believe me when I told you I had the hottest lecturer ever?"
I take in Kyle's fake indignant look with amusement.
"Because, darling, I don't trust your taste in women." Takumi's gaze flickers between me and his boyfriend. "But now, I guess I'll have to crash in one of your lectures. You know, just to understand a bit of psychology." Kyle snickers and I snort, as we both know that it isn't exactly the subject he's interested in.
I snatch Takumi's phone out of his hands, unable to wait longer.
"Hey!"
"Lemme see!" Her profile picture is the first thing my eyes land on. She is wearing a simple white top, a black leather jacket, her hair is falling down her shoulders. She's not smiling, but not frowning either, and those bright blue eyes aren't staring at the camera.
And I keep staring at the picture this evening, when I'm alone, buried under the covers of my bed. Kyle and Takumi aren't there anymore to snatch the phone out of my hands, or to make fun at the intensity with which I look at her.
There's no other picture available to those who aren't friends with her on Facebook, only her cover picture, including her and another pretty woman who looks just like her, except maybe for the hair, which she wears in a chic bob. Her sister, I presume.
Kyle and Takumi had accepted my locking myself in my room the moment we had gotten back from the diner. I had made sure Kyle knows how grateful I am for them entertaining me. It was only this morning, that I had gotten up, not knowing what this day would bring.
Now in the dark, prisoner to my own thoughts, I realize that I have never wished to go back in time and do things differently so much. It is with my head full of What ifs? that I surrender to a dreamless sleep.
So many mornings have I woken up confused, but this Sunday morning beats all of them. While my puffy eyes adjust to the light filtering through my blinds, I rack my brain in order to remember why I feel so shitty.
Stirring lazily, I promise myself to to something and not stay in bed, maybe run a few miles, and be a little productive to get rid of this awful mood I'm in.
It is only when I unlock my phone to check the time that two things refresh my mind.
First of all, the Facebook page is still open, the picture of Diana making my stomach drop very uncomfortably. It looks like her face is disapproving of me, of what I have done, and when I think about it, is probably how she feels while I'm wallowing in self-pity. I have been thinking about me so much, I haven't even spared a thought about how she would feel. I seriously doubt she could feel worse than I feel right now, though, as guilt, embarrassment, shame, fear, and whatnot, fill my whole core.
Then, as I process the whole thing and close the Facebook app, the second thing finally pops in front of my eyes.
It is a message.
D. Alexander - 9:14AM
Hello Ms. Grant,
I'd like for you to drop by my office anytime on Monday as we have some things to discuss.
My office is situated on the third floor of the Psychology building, room 208. I'll be there from 9AM to 6PM.
Thank you,
D. Alexander
Upon reading this text, my throat has never felt so dry, and my stomach so tight. With a huff, I bury my face in my pillow, deciding that after all, I will spend my Sunday in bed.