*~*~* Cate *~*~*
I’m not a dream kind of girl. I love my sleep too much to have it interrupted by dreams, but last night, all I did was toss and turn in bed as I kept reliving that half an hour in the closet. Only, this wasn’t so much a dream but more a nightmare.
It started off perfectly fine, but by the fourth run of the dream-slash-nightmare, I was ready to wake myself up and cry. Slowly, I was losing my memory of Theo and it was terrifying. Before I could remember everything about him… the way he laughed, the way he smelled, the way his arms would hold me close to him… I could remember that all, before. Now, I could hardly remember any of it.
Was his laugh soft and sweet or gruff and gravelly?
Did he smell of coconut or mint?
Were his arms protective or stifling?
I should have remembered all the answers to those questions, but instead, piece by piece all my memories of Theo were being replaced. All I could think about was TJ, and how his laugh was deep and rumbling and honest. He smelt of grapefruit, which was both odd and alluring. His arms were always caring and safe, like nothing could ever hurt me just as long as I stayed there.
Even TJ’s voice was taking the place of Theo’s.
I woke up in a sweat with tears streaming down my cheeks. My heart rate was pulsing and I was shivering, a feeling of nausea creeping up to burn the back of my throat. I thrashed around on my bed until I realized that it had all been a nightmare. But then, the more I thought about it, the more my nightmare was becoming a reality.
I was forgetting Theo.
I rushed to the bathroom as I felt the burning sensation announce that I was about to be sick. I purged my stomach as I held my hair in my hands, the vile taste lingering in my mouth even after I was done being ill. I slowly got to my feet and shuffled towards the sink, splashing water on my face before I brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth.
I returned to my bedroom and stood in the middle of the floor, not quite knowing what to do with myself. I grabbed my pillow and a blanket and carried them with me as I made my way down to the TV room.
When I was a kid and I couldn’t sleep, I would decamp to the TV room and just watch cheesy reruns of old shows that were popular in the 80s or 90s. I vividly remember watching Dynasty and getting so into it that I ended up convincing myself that I wanted to be Alexis Carrington when I grew up. My fascination with the 80s continued when I discovered The Love Boat, Dallas and Charlie’s Angels.
After my love for the 80s died down, I got into the 90s. The Wonder Years, Boy Meets world, Sabrina… The early 90s were amazingly horrific. The best show, however, was The Fresh Prince. Will Smith as a teen? And Carlton… how amazing was he as a TV character?
I hope The Fresh Prince is on. That would take my mind of things at four twenty am.
“Oh, sorry,” Libby’s voice broke my trance as I entered the TV room. She was huddled on the couch dipping gherkins into a tub of Ben and Jerry. Way to put me off my favorite desert for life. Bye bye chocolate fudge brownie, it was nice knowing you. “Did I wake you up? I thought I was being quiet, but I was raiding the cupboard for a while until I found the gherkins.”
I throw my pillow down next to her sit, pulling the blanket over me until I get comfortable. “I couldn’t sleep,” I tell my sister. “I thought I’d come down here and fry my brain with late night TV.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Libby enquires as she dips another gherkin into what was my favorite Ben and Jerry’s flavor. She sees me watching her and holds out the jar of gherkins. “Want one? They’re really nice.”
“Gross,” I say as I pull a face of disgust. “You only think they’re nice because your pregnancy hormones are lying to you. I bet you’re not even hungry.”
“Tell me about it,” Libby sighs. She looks down at her flat stomach and frowns. “This baby is going to make me fat.”
“And happy,” I remind her. She smiles at that.
“So, did you want to talk about it?” Libby presses again. I can tell from the look on her face that she’s dying to hear about it, but I just shake my head. “Suit yourself. We’re watching Third Rock from the Sun, by the way.”
I shrugged. I didn’t really care what we were watching as long as it was something that didn’t require me to think too much. I wanted to switch my brain off, not stir it to life. I watched at the show came back on screen, and while Libby laughed at the jokes, I didn’t. Instead, I was transfixed on the kid from the show. Tommy Solomon… now where had I seen his face and heard his voice before?
There was something eerily familiar about him, but I just couldn’t place it at all. His mannerisms were familiar… His face was familiar… His voice was familiar… Everything about him screamed that I knew him from somewhere else. I just didn’t know where.
Then it came to me.
“Isn’t he the guy from (500) Days of Summer?” I ask my sister. Libby looks at the screen with her head tilted then smiles and nods. “I thought I knew him from somewhere else.”
We fall back into silence and watch the episodes as they play. Every few minutes I hear the pop of the gherkin jar opening and then my sister eating her revolting treat. I kept shuffling away until eventually I was sat on the other end of the couch.
“So, why are you down here?” Libby asks, her eyes still glued to the TV.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I answer simply. Libby doesn’t believe me, if the narrow eyed look is any indication. I sigh and throw my head against the back of the couch. “There’s this guy…”
“TJ?” Libby smiles. I shake my head. “Not TJ? Ok, if it’s not the boy you’ve been permanently attached to for the past month, then who is it?”
“Theo,” I admit, before running into the full story. “I met him on New Year’s Eve and it kinda changed everything, but now there’s TJ, and it’s all this big huge mess because I’m love Theo but I’m in love with TJ, and I’ve got until the Valentine’s Day Masquerade to figure it all out, but that’s in just over two weeks and I’m having these horrible dreams that I’m forgetting him and replacing him with TJ, and I don’t know what to do.” I stop to take a breath and turn to face my sister pleadingly. “What do I do?”
“Well, first of all you breathe, Cate,” Libby instructs me. “And you pause to create sentences. What does Dean Maddox teach at that place nowadays? The English department is obvious lacking.”
“Elizabeth!” I snap. With my family, I’m more like the real me that I try to hide when I’m with other people, but even my parents and sisters can be a little shocked when I shout. “Sorry… could you just focus and tell me what to do?”
“Speak to Anna,” Libby tells me with a sympathetic smile. “I know she’s this burgeoning jewelry designer and all, but remember that her degree is in psychology. She’ll know what to do. Oh, let’s Face Time her.”
Before I could stop Libby, she was calling our sister. Anna groggily answered the call and her bleary eyes filled the screen. She did not look happy, but seeing as I wasn’t the one who called, I wasn’t in the firing line. That said, Anna was trying to placate Libby as much as possible because of all the wedding stress, so she probably wouldn’t shout at her either.
“Why are you calling me at-” Anna pauses to look at the time on the screen. “-five eighteen in the middle of the night?”
“Cate has a boy dilemma,” Libby announces grimly.
Anna rolls her eye and asks Libby to get me into the picture. “Catherine Marie Westbrook,” Annabelle Louise Westbrook shouted, waking Sawyer up in the process. He cursed a few times and told Anna to take the call to the bathroom. Anna didn’t listen and instead turned back to us. “Look, Cate, you do not have a boy problem. I don’t care who the other guy is, you choose TJ. Got it? The boy is obviously head over heels for you. A blind person could see it. Plus, he’s amazing. So, whoever the other guy is, you forget about him. You and TJ, that’s the endgame here. Now, you two crazy people, go back to bed. It’s five twenty two in the middle of the night.”
*~*~* TJ *~*~*
She loves me. She loves me. She loves me.
Hey, guess what?
SHE LOVES ME.
And she’s currently ignoring me as I try to get her attention.
“Yo, Cate,” I nudge her shoulder with mine. She snaps out of her daydream and looks up at me expectantly. “What do you need me to do?”
It’s after school and we’re on the soccer field making a start on Cate’s physics project. Cate has been distant all day and it was starting to worry me, and having some alone time with her wasn’t making me feel any better. Sure, she was here in body, but in mind, she was somewhere else.
And there she goes again.
“Cate,” I call to her again. “Where do you keep disappearing too?”
“Australia,” she mumbles. She doesn’t know I hear her answer, but I do. That’s where she wanted to be when she was trying to get away from me before. Oh, shit. She regrets telling me she loves me. “Right, how about you take some shots at goal, like you’d do in a normal game and I’ll record you and take some photos.”
Cate’s voice was cold and emotionless. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of me or the project but something wasn’t right. I ignore the niggling feeling in my stomach and head towards the penalty spot, getting ready to kick the ball exactly like Cate instructed me to.
I’m a good penalty kicker and got two goals from three attempts on a good day and three from five on a bad day. I spin the ball in my hands before placing it on the spot. It was a ritual that I did every time I took a penalty, and as I set it onto the grass, I took a quick look at the goal. I worked out what part of the net I wanted to hit, and then analyzed the wind conditions as well as grazing the grass with my hand to test how wet it was. It was only then that I knew where to position myself.
I stepped back three paces, move to my right one step and then took another half a step backwards. I found the spot in the goal again and, without taking my eye from that spot, I moved forward and felt my foot connect with the ball. It soared towards to goal and hit the spot that I had been concentrating on.
I took another ball and repeated the motions again and again and again. After the tenth kick, I rushed forward and collected the soccer balls from the net. In all the time, I didn’t dare chance a look at Cate.
“You’re really good,” Cate commented as she approached me. I nodded and set the balls in a row along the penalty box. “You got one in four. That’s impressive.”
“Yeah,” I say shortly. “Do you need me to go again?”
From the corner of my eye I see Cate shake her head. “No, we’re done. But I do need you to hug me,” she says softly. I look over to her and see her nervously waiting for me to move. “I’m having a really bad day, TJ, and I need you to give me a hug.”
I reach out for her and pull her into my arms. I hold her carefully and bury my nose in her hair, breathing in her familiar scent. She tightly wraps her arms around my waist, her fingertips grasping at my practice jersey like she was holding on for dear life.
“Cate, tell me what’s wrong?” I beg her. “I don’t like seeing you like this and I want to help.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she lies. When girls say there’s ‘nothing’ wrong, there’s usually something wrong.
“Please, don’t lie to me, Cate,” I say forcefully as I pull away from her. I take a few steps backwards and run my fingers agitatedly through my damp hair. I can feel the anger building inside me and I hate it. I try to calm myself down but it doesn’t work. Cate keeps looking at me weirdly. “Just tell me what’s bugging you. I’m trying so hard not to get myself worked up about this, but you’ve got to meet me halfway.”
When I was a kid, I had anger issues. It stemmed from my attention seeking way after my parents got divorced, but gradually, it built and built until I’d lash out over the slightest little thing. Certain sounds were the worst, but people looking at me the wrong way was one of the main triggers. I convinced myself that they were judging me and I had to protect myself in the only way I knew how- by getting angry.
My dad and Amanda, as well as Elliott and Noah, could deal with my issues pretty well. They knew my triggers and they had their strategies to help me calm myself down, but my mom was a different story entirely. She couldn’t cope with me at all, and her constant nagging drove me insane. She was always pushing me to be this person that I didn’t want to be, and I retaliated constantly. It wasn’t until middle school and one of the teachers suggested I take up sport to help me learn some discipline that I got my temper under control.
I excelled at soccer and didn’t want to leave my coach and team down by doing silly stuff that could get me sent off, so I behaved on the field. Sure, off the field I still got into trouble, and I was one first name terms with the Principal of my old middle school as well as Dean Jack Maddox for all the times I was in their offices, but my anger issues have simmered down in recent years. A lot of that has to do with the fact that I now lived with my father, but I was still prone to some lapses.
This was a relapse.
“I was talking with my sisters this morning,” Cate finally says with a sigh. She crosses her arm over her chest protectively and looks away from me. “I needed advice about something and Anna’s words are kinda spinning in my head.”
She spoke to Anna? Please tell me Anna didn’t spoil my surprise for Cate.
“What did they say, exactly?” I ask delicately.
“Well, Libby was pretty useless,” Cate smiles fondly. “Anna was… well, she was just Anna. You know, say it as it is? I know what she was saying was right, but there’s a bunch of what ifs in my mind that I need to run through and it’s bugging me.”
“Need help?” I offer.
Cate shakes her head. “I don’t think anyone can help me,” she says sadly. “It’s something I have to figure out for myself, but thank you. And my sister was right about you, by the way. You are amazing.”
I smirk. “Your sister called me amazing? Which one?”
“Anna.”
“I’ll take that,” I laugh. “Seeing as she didn’t like me much at the start of the month, this is progress.”
Cate and I pack our things up and I rush to take the soccer balls back to the storage room before heading back towards the parking lot. I round the corner and stop in my tracks when I see Cate talking with Gillian Merkel. The girls were just talking, but it didn’t sit comfortably with me. If Gillian was around, then surely Adam Dayton wouldn’t be too far behind, and over my dead body was he going near Cate. I jog up to where the girls stand, glancing around the deserted parking lot to see that there’s no one else around.
“-and I just wanted to say sorry,” I heard Gillian say as I came to a stop next to Cate. Gillian looks up at me and smiles warily. “Anyway, I better go. Thanks, Cate, for being nice to me. And, again, I really am sorry.”
My eyes follow Gillian as she heads towards her car. She looks small and introverted, and nothing at all like she had a few years ago. She used to be so outgoing and happy and I had to wonder where that girl went. Then I remember Georgie’s words from last week when she was telling me about how Adam tried to change Cate. Maybe that’s what happened with Gillian- Adam Dayton hacked away at her until she was just an emotionless shell.
“Is she going to be ok?” I ask Cate, pointing at the small red car that drives out from the parking lot.
“Eventually,” she answers. “I was like her once.”
“Yeah?” I say with a raised eyebrow. “So, what happened after?”
“I met someone new,” Cate explains as she heads for the passenger door. “Someone better.”
“New Year’s Eve guy?” I ask.
Cate shakes her head and smiles at me. “No. I met you.”
Yeah, she loves me. And I am so kicking Theo’s ass. Or was that my ass?
Whatever. It doesn’t matter.
SHE LOVES ME.
*~*~*
Ok, so... back on Day Three, I said that Anna was a psychologist, and then suddenly she was a jewelry designer. Anyway, the lesson here is to write down important things like that so I don't make mistakes/forget. So, I kinda explained it in this chapter- Anna majored in psychology at college, but is now a jewelry designer because she's free spirited like that.
I'm so sleep deprived it's not even funny anymore, which goes a long way in explaining any of the mistakes in this chapter. So, now that I've updated, I'm going straight to bed! See you tomorrow, lovelies.
Sarah, xx