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Being Kalli(68)

By:Rebecca Berto


“I swear this isn’t me worming my way out of the deal, but can we—you and I, side by side—have dinner with your parents and test the waters? We can invite Steph the next time. You know,” I say. “In case—”

“You’re worming your way out!”

“No, I just have no idea how they’ll react and I want it to be perfect for Steph and you.”

Scout stares at me. And stares.

“This doesn’t sound like you, Kalli.”

“No, Nate and I will get it together. Took me ages to see it, but it’s me who’s afraid of me, and this all seems too good, you know? Like someone is handing me all this wonderful karma all of a sudden and I can’t tell if everything’s turning up after what’s happened or if I need to approach carefully. I guess I’m just stalling.”

She smiles like she completely understands then nudges me.

“Fine, so we’ve got a dinner meeting to organise, then, and we’ll bring Steph and Nate. Kill that procrastination bug.”

“You sure?”

“You know you deserve happiness as much as the next person, Kalli.”



• • •



The dinner came together quickly with a phone call to Steph, Nate, and Scout’s parents. Scout’s at my house soon after, fiddling with the short ends of her hair at her neck. She’s wearing cotton tennis shoes, jeans and has a top hanging off her shoulder, all slashed. She runs circles around the bit of hair at the back then changes to swipe her fringe bit across her forehead differently.

“I should change. Do you have any knee-length skirts? Any silk blouses?”

I give her eyes. “Do I look like a middle-aged woman, Scout?”

“Okay, right.”

It takes twenty further minutes of constant pestering. Tonight will go fine, but of course she’s worried otherwise. We Googled restaurants and found this nice one a bit further away than we’d usually go, because it’s closer to the city and the pictures of their food look like they’re whipped up by Nigella Lawson herself. It calmed Scout a bit since it’d surely put her parents in a good mood.

Earlier today we drank Long Island iced teas and she rolled around on the rug in my living room with Seth and Tristan. Now, being off my high, the throbbing in my head makes me feel I went too far saying I’d invite Nate to come along with me, too. It seemed like such a good idea at the time, but my nerves are eating me up.

Plus: I’ve only spoken to Nate using electronic devices for eleven days and I’ll finally be forced to see him.

Minus: it may be awkward.

Plus: I’m so anxious to see him, I barely care about much else other than getting to be in a close radius to him.

Basically, if tonight screws up and her parents flip, or that great “I love you” goes sour, Scout and I have organised it so it’ll all happen in an upmarket restaurant with us all together. Poshness always makes things more cordial.

Fretting, I head into the other bathroom and straighten my hair. I never used looked my best for anyone other than myself. Tonight, I’d deliberately make myself look ugly, in my opinion, if Nate thought I looked beautiful like that. Am I that desperate to impress him?

Yes. Yes, I am.

Last night, I remembered the time at the party when I gave him head. I remembered thinking I needed to win the bet, needed to make him want me that bad. Needed the feeling of power? Desire?

Then on the piano in the field, when he got me off. That was when I started becoming undone, all because I let myself be a puppet to him. Plead for him to stop the pain. Plead for him to make it hurt more. And finally, plead to release the build up making me stiffen my legs and curl my toes, and making my mind and body feel like they were going to explode. When he did, I was all his.

We both had stripped down our desire and begged. And people who beg no longer have power. They’ve stripped that armour, they lose that strangeness, and become altogether cosy.

I’m glad Nate slowly broke down my defences because I’m loving getting to know him like this. I’m anxious, yet relieved to know I can and should tell him when the old me is trying to bottle issues up and handle them by herself.

Later, when we arrive at the restaurant, Nate and Steph meet us outside. Scout’s mum, dad and sister are already seated, waiting, but at the sight of Nate I just want to run up to him and have him twirl me in the air like I’m a little girl, and Scout probably wants to do the same to Steph. If only we could stay outside forever.

“Hey, Kall Bell,” Nate says.

Like that.

In three words I’m this girly girl who wants to impress him and make him happy. My actions are immediate, without thought, and I find it hard to hide my smile. I look down to my heels and stupidly giggle at my feet, but he gets his hand into my hair and pulls it back from my face so he can get a better look at me.