I remember going to sleep around midnight and Katrina still hadn't come home. I was genuinely worried. I woke up the next morning and jumped out of bed, wondering if she was home yet. I went downstairs to Katrina's room. I opened the door a crack and peeked in. Katrina was laying on her bed, on top of the blankets. She was still wearing the blue dress. Her hair was messed up and knotted. She had dark circles under her eyes and she looked like she had been crying. I opened the door a little wider and it creaked. Katrina grunted softly and rolled over. I quickly and quietly closed the door. She looked like she had been upset, very upset. I went back upstairs into my room. It was about eight in the morning and I was wide awake. I grabbed some food and ate in kitchen. An hour later, I was reading the paper, Katrina walked into the kitchen. She had changed out of the dress and was wearing a pair of loose jeans and a sweater. I was surprised, I wasn't sure if it was the Katrina I knew.
"Hey K," she said, opening the fridge and pulling out a soda. A regular soda, not diet. Something was definently wrong.
"What's wrong," I asked. She snapped her head up and looked at me.
"Absolutely nothing! Nothing's wrong," she said a little too quickly. I peered at her curiously. She opened the soda and took a long drink. With a sigh, she put the can back in the fridge and left the room. A confused look was plastered on my face. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what it was.
A few hours later, I knew I needed a shower, but I didn't know how I could take a shower with the bandages on. I figured that I should take them off, and afterwards, put on the new ones that the doctor gave me. I went into the bathroom to take them off. I felt sick when I saw my legs. They looked like on big scab. Only a dot or two of real skin remained. I felt sick. I took a short shower, my legs stinging the etire time. I rewrapped them and sighed, glad that it was over. But now I had more things to worry about. In just the one minute I had talked to Katrina, I knew something was wrong.
I went back downstairs, Katrina was in the living room, watching tv. To my surprise she was watching Nickelodeon. I cleared my throat. She jerked her hand up and changed the channel. Katrina turned to look at me.
"Oh hey K," she said, giving me a weak smile.
"C'mon Katrina, something's wrong. I know it. Tell me,"
"K, I know what a jerk I've been. I've been really mean to you and everyone. I guess I'm just really sorry for it," she said. She didn't sound sincere, I could tell.
"O-kay..." I said doubtfully.
"No really K, I am,"
"Okay Katrina, I gotcha," I answered. Now I was really worried.
A few days passed with nothing major happening. I did't see Taylor, Katrina was still acting weird, and my legs were healing slowly. And then, the worst happened one fateful morning.
Katrina was wearing another pair of slightly baggy jeans and a large sweater. She was sitting at the kitchen table, doing nothing. I was doing the dishes. Katrina had told me that she wasn't feeling well. I had offered her some Tylenol, but she said no. I had almost finished the dishes when Katrina suddenly made a loud gagging noise. I spun around, frightened. She clutched her hand over her mouth and ran out of the room, into the bathroom. I winced, knowing what had happened. She was sick. I rushed after her. She was leaning against the wall, saliva dripping out from the corners of her mouth. She weakly reached over and flushed the toilet.
"Katrina? Are you okay?!" I asked frantically. She nodded, her eyes half closed.
"MOM! DAD!" I yelled. Mom and Dad, who were in the dining room came rushing in.
"What's wrong?" Dad asked, looking down at Katrina.
"She's sick," I said. We picked her up and brought her outside to the van. We quickly drove her to the clinic.
At the clinic
Mom, Dad, and I sat in the waiting room for an hour. The doctor walked into the waiting room, clipboard in hand and had a nervous look on her face.
"Well Mr. and Mrs. B. It appears that...." she paused.
"What? What?" Mom asked.
"It appears that Katrina is...." she paused again,"She's pregnant,"
Mom's face paled, as did mine. Dad's mouth dropped open.
"H-h-h-how?" Mom asked.
"You'll have to ask her," the doctor said, shaking her head.
We walked into the room where Katrina was. She was sitting on the examination table, her head hanging down, tears dripping down her cheeks.
"Katrina?" I asked softly. She looked up at me and attempted a smile. I sat next to her.
"What happened?"
"He...he..." she began crying harder.
"Who?"
"Him...."
"Who? Tell me?"
"Steven...."
"Yes?"
"He...he," her voice dropped down to a whisper,"He raped me,"
"WHAT!?" I exclaimed.
"Shhh," she hushed, sobs racked her body,"I don't know how it happened. We were in the car after dinner. He just wouldn't stop, I said 'no' but he just wouldn't listen."
"Katrina, why didn't you tell us before?"
"Because I didn't want to trouble you. I know I've been a huge bitch and I don't want to make anymore trouble. Plus, Steven is a reallly nice guy. I didn't want him to get in trouble,"
"He going to get in trouble weither you like it or not," I said.
"I know," she said, defeated.
"I don't know how we're going to tell your dad..."
"Tell daddy?" she moaned,"I hate myself,"
"No, you should hate Steven. You shouldn't have been so trusting for just meeting him," I said. Katrina started mumbling inaudibly, sobbing.
"I'm scared K," she said. I gave her a hug.
"Me too, Katrina, me too."
Everyone was extremely edgy over the next few days. Katrina's father called, and Dad told him the whole story. Rick was upset, very upset. He was coming to Oklahoma as soon as he could. Katrina stayed in her room, only coming out to eat or go to the bathroom. She was incredibly depressed. The police were looking for Steven, who had mysteriously dissappeared. Mom and I went to the library to take a break from the stress and get some books to read. I sat in a corner of the large library in a comfortable chair. I was reading Sphere by Michael Chrichton.
"Hello," there was a voice behind me. I turned around.
Taylor stood there, a book in hand.
"Hello," I aswered.
"I usually sit here," he said.
"And that means what to me?" I retorted, turning back around to continue reading. Taylor walked around and sat down in the chair in front of me. The bruise on his cheek was gone and there was still a slight mark on his nose.
"Is anything wrong?" he asked. I'd been saying and hearing that too much lately.
"Yes," I said, looking down at my bandaged legs. He either hadn't noticed them, or he pretended not to notice them.
"What then?" he asked, brushing a lock of hair out of his face.
"None of your buisness," I said.
"K, please."
"Taylor, I've had a hard week."
"Obviously," he said.
"Look Taylor, I'm sorry that I beat you up and that I've been a total idiot for that past few days. But I do have a reason, and it's nothing I can talk about,"
"Wow, that was brief," he said.
"Wasn't it?" I said, holding my head to one side, staring at him. I felt incredibly goofy and I smiled.
"So, um....how's Katrina," he asked nervously.
"She's been better," I said.
"Hmm," he mumbled,"I'm sorry too,"
"For what? You didn't do anything," I stated.
"Yes I did. I was a jerk, and I caused you to fall over at the track," he said, looking downwards.
"That was you?" I asked.
"Yeah, sorry,"
"Well, we're even, shake?" I held out my hand. He timidly shook my hand. That moment melted most of the tension between us. I wondered what he thought of Katrina now. What little I knew of Taylor's thoughts.
I know what I've done now. Ike was right. Katrina just came between us. She's not for me, definently not for me. Now I know what an idiot I can be, he thought, smiling.
"So? What are you reading?" he said.
"Sphere,"
"Cool," he said. I didn't think he was too interested.
"I might have to go soon," I said, standing up. Taylor also stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"I'll see you later?" he asked, is was almost a plead then a question.
"Yeah, maybe," I smiled.
"Cool," he said, smiling back, his blue eyes shining. I turned and saw my mom standing there, grinning at us.
"Yeah, I'll see you later Taylor. Bye," I began to walk away.
"Bye K," he said, causing me to turn back and look at him,"I hope everything works out for you,"
We smiled, and I turned to leave, feeling a whole lot happier.