Among the Shadows: Part 1, Chapter 5
The following evening, I waited for Kyle to arrive. Susie had helped me pick out a sleek little black dress and a fashionable shawl to wear. She had also helped me deal with my hair, coiling it into a tight coif. My ears were not pierced, but I picked out a gem pendant on a gold chain to wear for just a little bit of red to match the lipstick that Susie had put on me. It was warm enough to forego stockings so I put on open-toed high-heels and hoped that I wouldn't make a fool of myself. I was not that practiced in heels.
While I generally did not spend this much time getting ready for daily activities, I could admit that dressing up for special occasions was fun once in a while. Susie lamented that she had not had a reason to dress up. Instead of pointing out her usual poor taste in men, I suggested we have a girls-night-out after graduation, which she thought a wonderful idea.
At 7PM, right on time, there was a knock on our front door, and Susie went to answer it. Kyle stood there, dressed smartly in a black suit that I didn't know he owned. I saw that his tie was slightly twisted and he wore sneakers, but the effort was all there. He greeted Susie politely as I introduced the two of them and stepped out of the apartment to join him. Susie closed the door behind us and winked mischievously, a gesture I was sure Kyle had seen.
"You look beautiful," he said as soon as we were alone.
Although I didn't like to be vain, it felt nice to be noticed. I thanked him, replying in kind. "Though a suit isn't usually paired with sneakers," I teased.
Kyle blushed adorably, relaying that there had been an 'accident' while attempting to shine his shoes. I wondered what his plans were as we walked the distance not to his car but to his house. He held my hand as we strolled through the nearby park, and we chatted lightly of how we had each procured our outfits for the evening.
"I had my roommates disappear for a while, so we have the place to ourselves," Kyle announced when we had reached his house. He unlocked and opened the front door. I was not prepared for his planned night. In the back of my mind, I understood that it was supposed to be a romantic night, but I did not react well. Visible from the front door, the dining table and window sills were lined with lit tea candles.
Although I was outside, I suddenly had trouble breathing. The smoke was not suffocating, and from the door, I couldn't even smell it. In campus dorm rules, candles were not allowed, but any college student knew that they could get away with a lot of things. Kyle didn't even live in campus housing, so he could light all the candles he wanted. I swallowed, reeling back against the porch railing and away from the front door.
A panic attack? I remembered a time when I tried to cook some instant noodle by stovetop instead of microwave. I tried to clean something on the stove and wiped a napkin along the surface. But the napkin had gotten too close to the gas burner. Fortunately, Susie had been in the kitchen as well and realized I was panicking. She carefully guided me the two steps to the sink as she instructed me to drop the napkin in the sink, where it was extinguished in the soaking dishes. I didn't use the stove for the rest of the semester.
I remembered holding that burning napkin and being unable to breathe. This panic felt the same. I struggled to calm down and breathe normally. Even looking away, I found it hard to calm my breathing.
Properly concerned, Kyle asked me what was wrong. He had no idea that I had a problem with candles or fire. He rushed into the house to quickly extinguish everything while I caught my breath. A sickening bitter taste seemed lodged in my mouth and would not go away. I wanted to throw up, but nothing came up. Only after all the candles were gone and the normal lights turned on did the taste and nausea dissipate.
The remainder of the evening passed by well enough. With good forethought, Kyle had specially ordered meals from the local Italian restaurant and put it on plates. We dined on calamari, ravioli and veal parmesan. He had bought a bottle of red wine too. We talked of school as it was a safe enough topic. It seemed like he was carefully avoiding my freak-out incident.
"What exactly do you do with a philosophy major?" Kyle asked curiously. I was double majoring in computer science and in philosophy, but it was the second major that everyone always wanted to ask about (if they didn't have computer trouble), as if the first was far too uninteresting. It was a question I had received one too many times, and unfortunately, I really had no good answer.
"Well." I sighed before replying. "To be honest, philosophy is a good secondary major to back up a first, but I sort of went the other way around. I kind of just picked CS as something I can do." Nothing else had really resonated with me. The problem was that while I had reasonable skills at programming, I knew I wasn't particularly great at it. I also didn't think I would be able to sit in a cubicle in a nine-to-five. "I was thinking of going to grad school for a master's or I can teach English curriculum in high school. But I'd have to get certification if I want to teach." I added, "Haven't decided yet." Susie had an internship following graduation, and the plan was to stay with her for a while until I decided what I was going to do. In the meantime, I had done some webpage design and could continue seeking work in that area.
Innocently, Kyle asked, "What do your parents say?" My face must have reflected something, for Kyle backtracked at once and said, "I'm sorry, I just assumed? I don't know what your relationship with your parents is."
I knew that he hadn't meant any ill. If he had gone through the trouble of this romantic dinner, I figured that he must be looking for a long-term relationship. I didn't have to explain anything to him, but I really should be open enough if I wanted to pursue this as well. So I told him the truth.
Making sure I had his attention, I stated neutrally, "I'm adopted." When I was growing up, I had been told horrible stories of adopted kids not finding out until their teens and also finding out in the worst possible way. My parents had wisely chosen to tell me when I was really young, carefully expressing how much they wanted to have me as their own. It made me feel special and lucky to have them. I paused before continuing, "But they passed away almost four years ago." I had naively thought they'd be around forever, and losing them both in a single day had been a huge blow.
"I never suspected," Kyle said. "Can I ask how it happened?"
I remained quiet, for he had brought up a bad memory. He could and did ask, but I didn't have to answer right away. After my weird outburst on the porch, I wasn't sure I could hold it together if I had to talk about their deaths. Kyle got the hint due to my silence and apologized quickly, "Oh, no. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to ask like that." I thought he sounded sincere, and I accepted his apology. His hand reached across the table to hold mine. It was a nice gesture. Like the day we had first met, even though he often made mistakes, Kyle was a considerate person.
The moment passed, and Kyle offered me more wine, which I accepted. At that moment, one of his roommates, a lean looking fellow, came through the door. I recognized him from the cafeteria. The roommate was quite a few years older than both of us, and he had dark eyes and dark hair cut extremely short. He held out his hand for a shake, which I took politely as Kyle introduced us. I studied him briefly, and I saw that the guy, whose name was Don, had a fierce dark scar all over the arm he hadn't offered. Traveling all the way up his left arm, it resembled a burn scar.
Not being very surreptitious, I glanced quickly at Don's eyes to see if he had notice that I had noticed. Unfortunately, he must have, for he stared back at me. I had the distinct thought that he hated me for some reason. Avoiding his glare, my eyes dropped back to his arm, which was blemish-free.
Unobtrusively, I rubbed my eyes, and Don's arm remained without a scar. I must be tired and seeing things. With the recent mention of my parents, I must be imagining their wounds on other people. It was not the first time I thought I might be hallucinating. At least a few times while I had been traversing campus grounds, I thought I saw a figure in the distance, but when I focused on the figure, it disappeared. I didn't believe in ghosts, and, well, the sightings didn't happen with any frequency. Hallucinations were a symptom of a lack of sleep, which was common enough for a college student, so I didn't think anything of it. I must have imagined them. Including Don's arm.
It was an awkward few moments as Don stared at me. Was he angry I was dating Kyle? I fidgeted nervously under his sharp gaze until Kyle finally suggested that we would move to his room for privacy. Surprisingly, Don offered to clean up after us. Glad to take the offer, Kyle shepherded me to his room. Don watched us go silently before beginning the motions to clean up. Kyle deliberately closed the door behind him.
As usual, the single chair was covered with books and clothes, and I wondered if he ever sat at his desk. We sat on his bed together, and Kyle apologized for Don's early return. Then he leaned over and kissed me. I thought he tasted sweet, much like his personality. I liked the kisses. The advances did not go much beyond than necking, but I had to stop him since I was quite tired. Somewhat of a lightweight, I realized I probably should not have had as much wine as I did. Worried about the late hour and my slight intoxication, Kyle suggested I stay the night. Since he had been attentive and not pushed any further, I agreed. I trusted him.
| Chapter 4 | Table of Contents | Chapter 6 |