We've Met Before

16 - Botany

KAIA

My dad brings pizza home, and a cherry slushy to partner. We both sit in the living room, eating quietly as he watches a National Geographic documentary on safari animals. He's entranced by it all, and I quietly smile to myself.
I wonder if all nights would feel like this if I hadn't been ordered to stay with my mom.
My chest feels heavy. Everyone's angry at me, and everyone seems to know their reasons except me. Maybe I don't deserve to know them, but I'd prefer if I did.
Cade is angry because I drove off. My dad is angry because I've stowed away secrets from him, and even then some. Elliot hasn't talked to me for the past week, and won't even pick up my damn fucking calls. My mom is angry because I'm not the daughter she wants, nor will I ever be.
    Am I angry? Yes.
   We already established my anger.
    Who am I angry at?
    A sudden roar stems from the tv, a lion eating a wild onager. The lion sinks it's teeth into it's flesh, ripping it apart into shreds, toying with it's carcass like a child plays with a doll.
I inch back against the couch, stunned slightly by it's violence. I thought wild prey were taught to run.
Running isn't enough.
"I'm going to head to bed Bell. I'll take you out to breakfast tomorrow morning, and then taking you back home," my dad says, turning the tv off. He gives me a tender hug and walks off.
——
The weight of my body awakens underneath the warmth of the duvet. The sun shines through the linen curtains of the guest bedroom and I feel exasperatedly calm. I step out onto the cold oak floor and stretch my arms upwards.
    I walk toward the kitchen and find my dad with a cup of coffee and a newspaper in hand. He doesn't notice as I creep up behind him, suddenly pouncing on his shoulders. He startled and drops his newspaper on the floor.
    I laugh as he sends me a short scowl.
    "Good morning to you too." He frowns.
    "Good morning. Up and early for your promised breakfast," I say, realizing I haven't been excited for breakfast in years.
     His frown leaves his face, and is replaced by a gleeful smile. "Go get dressed bell, we'll leave when you're ready. Hannah passed by earlier this morning to drop off some clothes for you."
"How early? It's seven-fifty eight?!" I laugh awkwardly.
"Well, she gets paid to be up and early. If you need anything, you ask Hannah. She'll live, go." He says, looking up from his sip of coffee.
I find it hard to have someone at my beck and call. It almost feels selfish to do something like that, even if they are paid, even if they're getting awarded the salary of their life. I know my dad isn't a bad person, and he'd never abuse a power like that, but it feels different when that power is subsequently transferred to me.
But my dad's life is good, my dad's life is happy. His oak floors, his gardenias, and his peace lily's all live in this small slice of Heaven.
I rush towards the guest room and open the cabinets. I'm met with drawers full of fabric: dresses, jeans, shirts, jackets, cardigans. I pick up a lavender baby doll dress, bringing it on my body and looking at myself in the mirror.
I strip from the leggings I came into this house with, and from the t-shirt I've been wearing for the past three days. I can almost see the faint lines of where my mom grabbed onto me yesterday. I shove my head into the neckline and smooth the dress over  my body. I find my converse and place them over my feet, feeling them mold to the sole of my feet. I look at myself in the mirror once again, feeling a new sensation.
    The dress cinches at my waist, gently jutting outwards once it reaches my legs. I tend to hate the way I look in dresses. I've never felt like I've grown well into my body, and I've never had reason —other than him— to think otherwise.
    Most girls my age stop growing at 16, and I'm almost 18, so I've never expected to mature much more than I already have.
    I brush my hair out, while applying some mascara Hannah had conveniently bought for me. I offer myself a close-lipped smile, and revel in today.
    I revel in my breakfast in the morning.
——
    My dad opens the door for me as we arrive to a small cafe. A big bold sign that reads Bendle's sits at the top of the amusingly teal building. We walk inside and almost looks completely different from the outside. It's walls are splattered with pastel Victorian patterns. They circle the space like ribbon on a birthday gift.
We walk inside and take a seat in one of the round marble tables. The chair screeches as my dad pulls it out, and I have no choice but to awkwardly sit.
He orders another coffee for himself, while I suffice myself with a cup of water.
"You know, the night I asked your mother for a divorce, she looked at me like I had shattered her entire world into pieces. I remember the look on her face, and it haunts me to this day sometimes." He takes a sip of his coffee, closing his eyes while he tastes the bitter liquid.
"I loved her dearly, but I had to learn to part ways with someone who wasn't ready to love yet."
I stare at him as he speaks. He seems so calm and collected, almost as if he wasn't telling the tale of his tragic love story.
"She had become cruel to me, and I realized I was not happy anymore. I tried keeping guardianship of you, or at least joint custody, but your mother managed to make me seem unavailable to the judge when we went to court. She told me him I was incapable of taking care of you because how much I worked, and how irresponsible I was." He chuckles, almost as if he were telling a childhood story.
I take a sip of water, before placing it down onto the table. "Do you think you've forgiven her?" I ask.
He smiles. "Yes, I have. I don't know what she's done, Kaia, and I don't know what your relationship with your mother is —which I apologize for— but you'll learn to forgive, only until you'll learn to part your way."
Part my way.
Only until I'm selfish enough to put myself first.
"Be selfish."
He looks bewildered as I say the phrase. "What?"
    "A good friend gave me that advice a couple days ago."
    "Does this friend go by the name Cade Steele?" He asks, teasing me with his amused tone.
    I sit shocked. How did he know? I haven't mentioned it to him, and he hasn't seen Cade since he was a child. "What? How did you-"
He looks at me with a look only a knowing father can have. A father who's assured he knows more than you, who's always known more than you, and always will. "He called this morning. Very distressed —the boy."
I flush, staring at my cup of water, which I know wish was coffee. I chug down a large gulp and set it down on the table. "Was he? What did he say?"
It wasn't a surprise to me that Cade was worried, but I never would've expected him to:
1. Know where I am
2. Call my father about me
A weirdly warm feeling bubbles inside me, a sudden urge to squeal lugging in my throat. I contain my urge, and strain my eyes to hold in the slight excitement that's grown in me.
"He asked me if you were okay, what would you had hoped he would say?"
I lean back against my chair. The excitement transforms into anger. He called my father for a status update as if I was a fucking child. He doesn't trust me enough to know I'm okay, and capable of being independent. I left because I didn't want to worry anyone, and to fall apart in front of people who have already done too much for me —yet here he was, doing too much for me.
"Nothing. Some —excuse me— fucking nerve he has. Dad, you should've seen the way he screamed at me in the car! He's an idiot if he thinks he has any right to ask about my whereabouts as if he was my nanny-"
"Nanny? Mr. Turner, do you think that could be arranged?
My dad smiles at me, chuckling. I feel a sudden heat against the back of my chair. My dress rustles slightly against a new fabric. Large hands come to the front of my face, grabbing the ends of my hair that lay against my chest, and pulling them behind towards my back. His fingers graze my cheeks and I curse myself for knowing that he just heard what I said.
I turn around and frown. A tall, casually handsome Cade Steele stands behind me. He's wearing a corduroy jacket, and a pair of navy blue slacks.
He's dressed much more formal than his usual sweats and t-shirt.
So unlike my usual Cade.
"Cade, see you've kept your word." My father arches and eyebrow at him, and takes a long, intimidating sip of coffee.
Cade's confidence never flares, a wide smile on his stupid cocky face. "How could I ever, Mr. Turner. I said I'd be here." He walks next to my dad and crushes him in a side hug, which my dad obliges to.
    My dad has never been fond of physically affection.
Where is my father and what have you done with him?
Seeing this side of Cade has always fumbled me. Had me tripping over my laces, hyperventilating like a marathon. I forget sometimes that he's Cade Steele.
NFL-bound high school quarterback, Fairland golden boy, valedictorian, smooth, Cade Steele.
He takes a seat beside me, digging his hands into the pocket of his slacks.
    "Mr. Steele said he would pass by and take you back home. Hannah is sending someone drop the car off. I would drop you off myself, but I'm sure the least healthy thing right now is for your mother to see me drop off her runaway daughter." The tenacious tone of the last sentence makes me shrink back into my seat, feeling everyone's judgmental gaze over me.
    Maybe I was in the wrong.
    Cade stretches an arm out to my hair, ruffling the top of it. I smack his hand away, a smile tugging at my face.
    I sit back straight, taking my dad's free hand to my own. "I'm sorry." I repeat, even though I've said it more than enough times in the last couple weeks.
    I truly do mean it.
    "Please, come visit more often." My dad stands up and plants a kiss to my temple, squeezing my shoulders and taking in one last breath of me. He smiles, and leaves a twenty dollar bill on the table, sauntering off with a light ding of the doorbell.
    I watch as his silhouette fades off, fading into the April sunlight.
    Cade brings a finger to my cheek, his fingers dampening from what I assume are my tears.
    "Don't cry, Sunshine."
——
    Cade is silent on the ride home.
    His hands are molded to the steering wheel as if it's the only thing keeping him sane. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his jaw is tense.
    Maybe, this is selfish of me, but he's so awfully attractive.
    I feel like a school girl, trapped in the passenger seat of some popular football jock's car. Although technically, this is exactly what that is.
    "Are you mad at me?" I whisper, staring up at him.
    He says nothing, biting his tongue.
    I breathe out, "I'm sorry for what I said at the cafe. I didn't mean it— I mean I did — sort of-"
    "Do you know how worried I was last night?" He seethes, his knuckles turning white against the upholstery of the steering wheel. "Do you know the fear that vexed me when I received that call from your inebriated mother? The way my adrenaline spiked in ways I've never felt before, the sudden urge to drop everything and go out looking for you?"
    His eyes become wet, and I realize that he's silently crying. His words escape his mouth as clear as ever, not even the tears able to shake him.
    "I called you, only for you to be angry at me? I felt so helpless. I felt so fucking lost." His voice cracks, his foot pressing farther into the gas pedal. "What would I have done if something had happened to you Kaia? Tell me, who would have held me back from not doing something completely, and utterly insane?"
    I feel suddenly ashamed.
——
    I didn't dare speak after what he said to me.
    My stomachs aches amidst the guilt, and the shock from Cade's cold demeanor. I have seen Cade cry once in his life, now twice, but something fractured so deep within me when he cries this time.
    He cried because of me.
    Cade opens the door for me, and shuts it behind us. He throws his keys on the kitchen counter and calls out for his mom.
    Mrs. Steele treks down the staircase, her beautiful blonde form gleaming at her son. Her stare holds so much love, and so much maternal longing that I feel a pang of jealousy in my chest.
    She slobbers his face in kisses as he attempts to lightly push her off, quietly enjoying her attention. She stops in her tracks as she spots me.
    "Cade, why did you not tell me we had visitors?" She asks, a hand on Cade's shoulder. I can't make anything of her voice. I can't tell if she's angry, or happy, or annoyed.
    "Can she stay here for the night? She's had stuff going on at home." You're so awfully calm.
    "Of course! I'll always have my home open for Kaia Turner," she exhales, her voice enthusiastic.
    My shoulders relax, and I feel oxygen finally relapse in my lungs.
    The next twenty minutes are spent with Mrs. Steele cooking a light lunch for me, and offering me a fresh set of pajamas for later tonight. She gives me a short tour of her backyard garden, and proffers me a step-by-step on how she planted her new tomatoes.  I learn all about her different cucumber varieties, and the aromatic difference between: thyme, rosemary, and basil.
    She brings out a packet of Yarrow seeds, and places them in the palm of my hand.
    "Would you help me plant these, dear?"
     I smile. "Yes. I love plants." I think back to my dad, and his gorgeous gardenias.
    She digs a shallow hole in a fresh plot of potting soil, smoothing out the grooves with the edges of her fingers. I take out the seeds and place them inside the dipper, pushing slightly to cement each small pellet inside.
    "Yarrow flowers are extremely beautiful. They grow to look like soft clouds, but what I think is most beautiful about Yarrows, is their resilience. Yarrows are known for growing exceptionally well in droughts, and in hot, dry climates." She breathes, placing a layer of potting soil on the top of the seeds.
    Her hands are a model of gentleness, and love. The love I've only seen in her son. The care and effort she places into everything has rubbed off onto him.
    "My dad loves plants. They cover his entire house. He has all sorts of shapes, and colors, and sizes." I exclaim, happy I have an excuse to talk about my dad.
    "Plants are such weird things aren't they?" She laughs melodically. I laugh with her, the sun glowing on my face. "They all have different needs, and they all struggle during certain climates," She says, finishing up on the seeds. "Yet, they'll always manage to grow again next year."
     She pats the soil one last time, standing up, and brushing the soil off her light-washed jeans. Her white shirt is trampled with small specks of dirt, but she looks so satisfied and overjoyed that it's almost as if she wouldn't mind if the whole of her was buried in mud.
    I look at the now buried Yarrow seeds and can't help but think, that they will grow again next year, and the next, and every year until they run out of energy to grow once more. Once they've grown enough times, they'll know their duty in life was complete. That they've lived dozens of lifetimes under the sun, bathed by its warmth.
——
    I walk back inside the house, realizing that Mrs. Steele must've gone upstairs.
    I find Cade sitting at the dinner table. He's surrounded by college pamphlets, and all sorts of envelopes and applications.
    "What are all of these?" I pick up an envelope and read the title. Notre Dame University. "Oh, wow." I breathe out, squinting to see if I'm reading it all correctly.
    He snatches the piece of paper from my hand, and places it back on the table. I pout. I walk behind him and wrap my hands around his neck, nuzzling my face against his neck. His breath hitches and I can feel his eyes closing shut.
    "Are you still mad?" I whisper, lowering my hands down his chest. I feel every inch of muscle, every inhale and exhale.
    "You make me so-"
    "Mm, so what Cade?" I laugh.
     He suddenly stands up, grabbing me, and forcefully shoving me up and on top of the dinner table. I gasp as I feel the cold resin on my thighs. His hands rise my dress higher until it's barely bunched up where my legs meet my torso.
    I feel the heat of his hands against my hips, and the heat of his breath against my cheek as he loses his head next to mine.
    "Angry? Am I still angry Kaia? I'm so angry. You don't understand the things I'd do to you right now if it weren't for the fact that I'm so fucking angry." He groans, his teething grazing the lobe of my ear.
    "I didn't take you for a coward, Steele." I say breathlessly, at an almost loss for words.
    "Coward? A coward can't fuck you the way I could." His voice is a deadly whisper. My favorite type of poison.
     We hear steps down the stairs and I immediately hop off the table, lowering my skirt, and fanning my face to hide the extremely embarrassing redness of it.
    Cade coughs and sits back down, his head buried back into his college offers.
    Mrs. Steele finally appears at the corner of the staircase, a happy smile on her face.
Oh god, this is embarrassing.
——
    Mrs. Steele leads me to an empty room, a cute blue guest bedroom nestled between another bedroom and Cade's. She leaves me to get dressed, and shuts the door quietly behind her.
    I take my dress off and put on the pair of pink pajama shorts and white tank top. I robe my feet with her pair of white ankle socks and I tuck myself in for bed.
    I stare at the ceiling, for the second time. I feel restless, and I feel exhausted at the same time.
    I stay like this for a few minutes, about half an hour before I manage to fall asleep.
——
    A loud banging emerges from the depths of my Sunday night slumber. I immediately stand up, an instinct I've learned from dealing with a drunk mother who shows up at two in the morning, knocking things over with her every step.
    I edge myself towards the door, opening it and leering out to the hallway. I follow the sound, and end up at the foot of Cade's door.
    I knock quietly, and hear a short whimper as a response. I open the door, suddenly worried, to find Cade writhing in his bed. His eyes are shut, yet his body is fully awake, jolting around his mattress as if he was being tortured.
    I walk in, shutting the door behind me and rushing to his side.
    "Cade! Love! Cade! Wake up!" I hold his head in my arms, lightly smoothing at his cheeks to wake him up.
    His eyes startle awake, his body following shortly after. He sits up, his breathe heavy, and his hands shaking. He finds my face and form and starts smoothing his hands all over it, almost as if checking that I'm actually there.
    "You're still alive. Oh god, you're still alive sunshine." His voice flutters through his lips like an oath, like a ghost of the confidence he always has.
    "I'm alive. I'm here, love." I place one of his hands over my chest, allowing him to feel my heart beat in its cage. "Breathe with me."
    I begin counting down, making sure he inhales, and exhales with me.
    He finally manages to calm down, and he pulls me under the covers with him. I lay my head on his chest, our legs tangled together in a mess.
    His hands play with the bottom hem of the tank top, fidgeting, letting me know he's still anxious.
    I let the room fill with silence, hoping that will let him sleep better.
    "Why did you leave today?" He breaks the silence.
    Maybe, it's because of how late it is, or because how awfully tired I am, but maybe honesty could save me this time around.
    "I love her Cade, but I couldn't be inside that house anymore. You know how she is," I prepare myself internally. "Everyone knows about my mom's drinking problems, but —yesterday was another monster entirely. You should've seen the way she looked at me, the way she burned holes into me with a single glare. She slapped me, told me things I've known for a long time, but yet had never been vocalized to me." I feel my voice break. I hold my tears back.
Stare at the ceiling.
    "What? She put her hands on you? Kaia?! Why didn't you tell me? Kaia, I told you tell me when these sorts of things were happening. I'm begging you to trust me. What happened to honesty?" His voice is a silent plea.
    "I've already explained it to you. I don't want anyone worrying about me anymore."
    The more I attempt to explain it to people, the more they seem to brace themselves away from the idea.
    "I want to worry. I want you, to want me, to worry about you. C'mon, let's go outside for a bit." He lifts my softly, carrying the palm of my hand the way a jeweler carries his most precious diamond.
    We tip-toe through the hall, and down the stairs, and out the door. We jog quietly in our socks, him in nothing but his blue, plaid pajama pants.
    I have no idea where he's leading me, but I feel different. The warmth of the sun isn't here, instead it's the glow of the moonlight.
    We jog a couple of blocks, sweat building lightly against my skin.
    I'm not very athletic.
    We make it to a small bridge, settled in the middle of a large lake. The moon and stars reflect off the water and I bask in it's tide.
    "I'd give you the stars, the moon, the lake if it meant I could feel the way I do with you." He says desperately. His voice is no longer a whisper. It's become a begging tone.
    "I had a dream you died." He blurts, this time quieter. "The world, my world, stops without you in it. You don't know how stupid you are sometimes. How oblivious you are to the depth of your laugh, or the sheen of your skin. I breathe, but I breathe because you are here."
    I look at him, examining every inch of his eyes. Waiting for him to laugh in my face, slap me, push me, tell me it's all a cruel joke.
    I've always loved thinking, and ruminating in every possibility life may throw at me. I've always expected double-sided swords, and two-headed snakes.
    Yet, here was Cade Steele.
    An angel glowing under the moonlight.
   All thoughts leave my head, all ideas, and words.
   I can only focus on his soft blonde hair, the blue of his iris.
   I grab ahold of his face, and smash my lips against his. My mouth molds perfectly to his as his hand fly to my waist, pushing me against his naked torso. I dig my hands in his hair, feeling like nothing could ever save me from Cade Steele.
    I could fall a hundred times, and pick myself up a million times again for Cade Steele.
    His tongue slips into my mouth and I allow it to mingle with my own. He moves expertly, swiping his tongue lightly against the rim of my teeth.
    A heavenly feeling.
    I haven't kissed anyone except Cade, but I'm sure it would never feel anything compared to this.
    "If every piece of my heart was a letter, they'd all be addressed to you," I mumble between a breath.
    Cade pauses, unattaching his lips from my now swollen ones.
    "I always knew you'd cave in some day," he smirks, a smile with Cade Steele written all over it gracing his handsome face.
    I tilt my head. "Is that so? I might be a good time to break it to you..." I pause, "I've actually been faking all of this the entire time."
    He fake gasps, taking ahold of my hand as we begin walking back. "Really? You make it feel all too real."
     I laugh. "People do tell me I'm an amazing actor Mr. Steele."
    "Did you fake the orgasms over the summer too?" He asks, letting go of my hand and draping it over my shoulders.
    My eyes go wide and I slap his chest. "As if you didn't have any of your own!"
    He inches his face towards my ear. "I promise you, I didn't fake any of those."
    Thank god it's nighttime. He can't see the way my face is exploding at the moment.
     He takes my cheek in his fingers and pinches it. "You're so cute when you blush."
     "Fuck you, Cade Steele."