The Meaning of Dark
Kinsley wondered if there was enough makeup in the world to make it look like she hadn't been lying in her bed crying for two weeks, in his sweatshirt, clutching a pillow and wishing it was him. A year. One year they had been together and he just changed his mind. Woke up one morning as if she meant nothing to him.
"I don't get it, Nick," she sobbed, standing in the kitchen over breakfast. "What did I do?"
"This isn't about you, Kins," he had said. "I just..." He trailed off and looked at the ground. "People being shitty rarely has anything to do with the people they are being shitty to, and everything to do with them just being shitty."
She sniffled and stepped in close to him. She brought her fingers to his hair and pulled his face to hers. "I love you," she said. "Don't you love me?" Her lip trembled and he stared into her eyes briefly before turning away. For a moment she thought he felt some small amount of pain as well.
He shook it off before looking at her. "I never wanted to hurt you," he told her. "I'm sorry." He pulled her hands from his head and held them between their bodies. He kissed her forehead, dropping her hands, and walked towards the door. "Kins, you can stay here. I left a check with my half of the rent for the rest of the lease."
She shook off the memory, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face just looked puffy. And yet, she finished applying the same small amount of makeup she usually did and sent her friend a text.
Okay, I think I am mildly presentable. Meet you at the bar in 10?
Yes! There are some decent guys here. We'll get that ass monkey off your mind.
Kinsley rolled her eyes and shoved her phone into the back pocket of her tight jeans. Why women's jeans don't have deep front pockets will always make her wonder.
* * * * * * * * *
Kinsley entered the bar and her eyes scanned the room. Her friend Ryan waved, removing her purse from the empty bar stool next to her, and patting it, motioning Kinsley to join her. Kinsley walked over towards her. Ryan sized her up.
"Kins... what are you wearing?" Ryan looked at her best friend from head to toe. In ripped skinny jeans, black flats, and a long sleeve black shirt that hung off one shoulder, besides the makeup and the nicely done wavy blonde hair, she could have been going to the grocery store.
"What?" Ryan rolled her eyes. "This is the best I could do! You're lucky I even came out." Ryan gave her that look. "What?! Do I look ugly?" She sat down on the stool next to her friend.
A guy leans between the two girls and signals the bartender. "If you want my opinion, you're fucking hot," he said, licking his lips. Kinsley rolled her eyes and looked at Ryan. Ryan winks at her friend. The whole point of this evening was to get her laid, starting with a compliment, even a crass predictable one, was a good start. But Kinsley shook her head. A voice echoes from behind them, and shoves the other man out the way.
"Excuse my friend," he says. "We haven't let him out of the house in a few months." Kinsley smiles into her drink. "Can I buy you ladies your next round to apologize for his rudeness?"
Kinsley looks at Ryan again. She suddenly feels like going out was stupid. "Thanks, but..." she starts. She turns around to face him. He is surprisingly good looking and well dressed. At just under six feet, he was a little taller than Nick, and more traditionally good looking. He was thin, but muscular, well built, with sandy brown hair and deep blue eyes.
He can sense she's nervous. The bartender comes over. "What can I get you man?"
He orders, and hands him a card. "And will you put their next round on my tab," he says. "Have a good night ladies," he says. He takes his drinks and moves to the corner of the bar.
Ryan waits until he is out of earshot before she slaps her friend in the arm. Kinsley looks at her, exasperated. "That guy is the guy you date next, his obnoxious friend is your bad pancake. You need to fuck a bad pancake."
Kinsley takes a deep breath. She looks at the gin and tonic in front of her and swallows the whole thing like a shot. "I think I have other plans for tonight," she tells her friend. "I can't just fuck Nick out of my head. Drinking might help though."
But Kinsley isn't the kind of girl to drown her sorrows either. Ryan out drinks her two to one, and it isn't long before she's moved over to a table with a few guys. She signals Kinsley to join her a couple of times, but Kinsley is content to sit at the bar and stare into her gin and tonic.
Maybe this is less pathetic because it's a Wednesday
, she thinks to herself. Her head starts to spin a little bit and she decides she's had enough of the bar and motions the bartender to close her tab. Kinsley looks around for her friend. Ryan is at a table with a few men, talking and laughing. She'd be concerned about leaving her, but Ryan takes good care of herself. As she signs the check, the nice guy from earlier sits down at the empty stool next to her.
"Heading out?" he asks.
Kinsley pushes the tab across the bar. "Yeah, I think so. It's been a long couple of weeks," she smiles. "Just kind of want to go home and eat cookies in bed."
"Oreos or chips ahoy?" he asks with a smile.
She feels momentarily charmed. "If you even think for a second there are cookies other than Oreos out there..."
He holds up his hands as if in self-defense. "I definitely don't. That was a test." He smiles at her, the way men smile at women that makes them weak. Nick had a smile like that. Kinsley blushes a little and looks at the ground. He tries to meet her gaze and holds out his hand. "I'm Carter," he says.
She looks up and takes his hand. "Kinsley. You one of those Harvard assholes whose first and last name are interchangeable?"
He tosses his head back and laughs heartily. "No," he says, a big smile on his face. "I went to Dartmouth."
Kinsley smirks, "Safety school?" she asks.
He shakes his head, still smiling. "Oh, you're one of those Harvard assholes who thinks that everyone who didn't go to Harvard is an idiot?"
Kinsley shrugs. "No, just a regular garden variety Harvard asshole. Class of 2016."
Why did I tell him how old I am?
She wonders, suddenly feeling stupid.
He senses her embarrassment. "You're a baby," he says. "Class of 2008." He tries to set her at ease. Kinsley nods, just slightly younger than Nick. "Have one more drink with me? You can say you're just staying to make sure your friend makes it home okay."
"I just..." she lets out a deep sigh. "I've really had too much already. I'm buzzed." He just stares back, as if to encourage her. He gives her the smile again. She nods. "One."
Carter orders. Halfway through their drink, a drunk Ryan approaches Kinsley. She kisses her friend on the cheek. "LOVER!" she yells in too loud drunk girl voice, "It is time for me to go! Can you walk home alone? Are you safe?"
Kinsley nods, "Yeah, I'll be fine. It's three blocks. Can you get the Uber by yourself?"
"Already did. He's HEEERE!" She blows her friend a kiss and exits the bar.
Carter turns to her. "That's a lot for a Wednesday," he says. "No offense."
Kinsley shrugs. "She wanted me that drunk, or at least drunk enough to take a stranger home. But it usually goes this way."
He smiles at her. He ponders taking the bait on that one, but he knows better. "Work? Family? Friends? Boyfriend?"
"Asshole?" She replies and takes a long sip of her drink, finishing it. "You don't have to be the guy who pretends to listen to me about my ex."
He smiles at her. "I never play pretend, Kinsley."
Her stomach turns over and she swallows. There is something hidden in those words that makes her mind race. She opens her mouth to speak, but he interrupts her. "How about, I am I the guy who takes you to dinner on Friday and talks to you about anything but your ex?" Kinsley bites her lip and rubs her thumb and index finger together like she always does when she's nervous. He can tell her mind is racing. "You can even wear the ripped jeans. I like them."
Kinsley tries to pull out her inner Ryan. Making good decisions never got her anywhere, what about a few bad ones. "Yeah," she tells him, "Okay." She hands him her phone. "Put in your number," she says. "You can text yourself so you have mine."
Carter is surprised at how forward she was, how easy. She stands up and thanks him for the drink as he does what she asks, and slides her phone back to her. "Do you want me to walk you home?" he asks.
Kinsley shakes her head. "I'm good. But thanks." He doesn't push, not this time.
"Well, see you soon then, Kinsley."
She smiles as she exists the bar. Carter watches her go. There is something about her he can't quite put his finger on, something that draws him to her. Perhaps it's her intelligence, her gentle shyness, her naivete. He can tell she is going to be fun.
* * * * * *
Ryan lay on Kinsley's bed on her stomach, staring at her friend in tight black jeans and a light pink strapless bra.
"We really need to get you better underwear," Ryan says, standing up and approaching her friend. She grabs her breasts from behind. "I mean at least something to make it look like there is something there," she jokes. Kinsley elbows her in the stomach and Ryan backs up.
"Ow!" Ryan yells. "You know, we can't all have those rock hard soccer abs like you!"
"Why the fuck are we friends again?" she asks.
Kinsley rolls her eyes and goes back to figuring out what to wear. She grabs a blue silky tank top from the closet and slips it on, tucking it into the front of her jeans. A long grey cardigan sits on the dresser and she slips it on. She looks in the full length mirror, tossing her wavy blond hair over one shoulder. "What do you think?" she asks as she turns to Ryan.
"I think you look like a middle school teacher."
"I am a middle school teacher."