How it Began, the Fourth or Fifth Time Around
Max had expected, when they began these movie nights, that Kate would have experience with virtually nothing. As a sheltered church girl, she would have of course been steered primarily towards Disney moves and Nicholas Sparks films. Of course, after the first few rounds of questioning, it became clear that Kate was plenty familiar with the big series out there: Lord of the Rings, The Matrix, Pirates of the Caribbean, X-Men. Kate didn’t actually seem to need a crash-course on popular culture.
So instead, they were working their way through the careers of Ellen Page and Michael Cera, appropriately starting with Juno, which Kate had found to be an absolute racket. Max didn’t even know Kate would ever full-out laugh until the “I actually try really hard” bit, and Max didn’t even find it that funny.
Still, that led to them laying side-by-side in their pajamas in the common room some Saturday night, just a few minutes after Light’s Out. Today they were watching Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, and Kate’s distinct lack of laughter at the video game references were really starting to get to Max.
“This music is the Great Fairy theme from Ocarina of Time,” Max said, sad to be the only one caught in the glee.
“That’s a Zelda game, right?” Kate fed a small handful of (unbuttered) popcorn into her mouth, barely blinking as she watched.
“Pssh, yeah. The best one.”
Kate turned a little on her side, propping herself up on her elbow. Luckily, there weren’t any more huge-important details or super-cool references for at least a few seconds, so Max wasn’t too worried about this.
“I’m always going to miss like, 20 percent of what you say unless I start playing video games, aren’t I?”
Max shrugged, “I mean, put me next to Warren and it’s probably 50%. I had a lot of free time as a kid, what with all the homework I didn’t do.”
That put a, admittedly short-lived, smile on Kate’s face. Max dropped another piece of her (buttered, damn right) popcorn into her mouth, her eyes still trained on the television. After a few seconds (and a scene transition), though, she realized Kate’s eyes were much more on her than the TV.
“What’s up?” Max asked. Kate’s eyes were starting to get that . . . troubled look. Not the dead-eyed stare, just the withdrawn, searching one.
After a few seconds she said, “I just . . . I wish we could spent more time together. I wish I wasn’t so busy. I like hanging out with you.”
Max grinned, reaching up with a finger she hoped wasn’t too buttery and salty: “And I love” she expected Kate to withdraw, but successfully booped her nose, “hanging out with you. If I didn’t already know how early you get up, I’d ask you to spend more nights like this.”
Max expected banter at comments like this. Chloe had taught her to expect retorts, funny pull-aways from niceness to seem cool. As always, she evaluated Kate wrong.
Kate cocked her head to the side, eyes softening. “Really?” she asked, lighter than before.
And here was Max, suddenly in a spot light she had not expected. Maybe it would be best to play it cool, like Chloe did. Reassure Kate while also keeping her distance. It would be best for both of them. Being too close to this Kate before time was turned back again would only make it harder.
Max swallowed, trying to hold back her honesty. But that just wasn’t a skill she had. “I would spend a lot more time with you if I could, Kate. Nights, mornings, classes . . . whenever.”
Apparently Max had said the wrong thing, because she had clearly said the right thing. There was a long moment of hesitation that seemed to roll of Kate in waves, but then she slowly, slowly lowered herself down. If she hadn’t been so slow, Kate might have managed to pull to a cheek kiss at the last second, and play it all off, but instead her lips met Max’s, warm and soft.
When she realized Max sat still, though, she stopped, and pulled away. Whatever she read on Max’s face, she must not have liked it, because her expression curdled into shame.
“I . . . I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” She pulled away even more. “You’re with Chloe, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I-”
Max reached out and grabbed Kate’s wrist. She wanted to be gentle, to be tender, but she also needed to shut Kate up before she became more confused, more sullen, more self-destructive. Max would not let her.
And although Kate toppled over, she managed to plant her lips right back onto Max’s, and Max brought her other hand around to her neck to make her stay. Kate seemed almost frozen in place, but only for a brief moment before she brought her hand to cup Max’s cheek, fingertips forming little stepping stones from Max’s brow to her ear.
When they parted, Max asked, “Is this okay?”
It was always so easy to forget, in moments like this, how each Kate was different. How some would meld against Max as if it were the most natural thing in the world, how some would seem like they would flee. Some who blushed at Max’s touch, and some, like this one, who touched first.
“As long as we can do it again?” Kate asked, still unsure.
Max smiled, and again, she couldn’t hold back her feelings (even if it was the right thing to do, even if it would ease the pain further down the road).
She made a promise she couldn’t keep, but the promise that had kept her going this long. “Always,” Max replied.
It was like Kate, some Kate who belonged as much to Max as Max belonged to Kate, heard that and understood. She just smiled, and leaned down to kiss Max again.