We've Met Before

20 - Watering Your Plants

CADE

    I helped Kaia settle in, watching her trek her small suitcase into the house. She left a lot of it back at her home, correction —house.
    Her home is with me.
    She decided that a lot of it holds memories she didn't want, things she didn't necessarily want remembering. She would pick up pieces of clothing, staring at them, watching them slip through her fingers.
We both sit on the couch, my mom playing crossword puzzles in the reclining sofa. Kaia's hair is draped over my chest, flowing free from her scalp like an ocean wave.
After arriving home she seemed so much quieter. Her mind revolving and sealing her lips shut. I pass my hand through her golden hair, scratching lightly at the skin in between.
"What's wrong?" I whisper, feeling her stir lightly.
"I just—" she hesitates, sitting up slightly and whispering back, "You would tell me if anything happened right? I'm here for anything, you know that?"
My breath is caught in my chest, and I want to tell her that I would, that I'll always be honest. That I would never break our promise.
Honesty and understanding.
Would she understand? Would she look at me differently? Would she see how weak I am? How easy it is to burn me alive?
"I'll never do anything to hurt you again." I bring my hand to her cheek, knowing that I mean every single word of it.
I hear Gabby's voice in the back of my head, her whispers scattering across my guilt and shame.
I check the clock.
    7:20.
    I have to meet with Dahlia tonight.
    Kaia seems satisfied enough with my answer. She brings her head back on my chest, breathing in my shirt.
    It'll all come out eventually.
——
    I drive up to a lavish, modern restaurant. It's burrowed between all the large buildings of the Houston skyline, seemingly small compared to everything around it.
    This is exactly the sort of place I'd imagine Dahlia to deem as a casual conversation place.
    I told Kaia that I had things to do for football that I didn't finish earlier today. She believed me, and I hated it.
    She trusts me so easily.
    I don't even trust myself that much.
    I park my car along the sidewalk, flickering my headlights off, and treading out of the car and into the restaurant.
    The warmth of Post Oak hits me like a breeze, the elegant chatter and bustling movement of waiters gyrating across the smooth white floors. I look down at my feet, seeing my reflection on the polished marble.
    A hostess walks towards me, holding out a small notepad against her chest.
    "Hello, welcome to Post Oak. What name is your reservation under?" She gleams, tucking a strand of her over her ear.
    "Dahlia Sanchez," I respond, looking around the restaurant for the brunette.
    "Of course, please follow me."
    She takes light but quick steps, leading me to a closed off room. I walk carefully, the noise of the public space fading away into the distance.
    In the center of the room, there a square table with four seats, a laughing Dahlia, and a charming Jake whispering something in her ear. Her cheeks redden and she slaps his shoulder.
    There's no way this is Dahlia.
    Dahlia finally spots me, smiling and waving me over. I walk towards her small, little table, taking a seat and leaning back.
"City life changed you. The suburbs weren't good enough?" I tease, staring at all the moldings and details of the room.
"The suburbs aren't good for anybody. People grow out of white picket fences, and freshly mowed grass. Concrete keeps you solid, glass buildings keep you tall. I love the city." She speaks like a bird let out of its cage, as if she's found something she couldn't find back home.
Her hand wraps around Jake's, squeezing his fingers tightly.
I cough, their exchange taking way too fucking long. "So, we need to talk. Gabby."
She sighs. "Gabriela Wright. She's so funny isn't she?" She takes her long fingers and wraps them around her cocktail, dumping the liquid back into her mouth. "She's done a good job of keeping away after last week's incident, but I need to get closer."
I inch forward, my elbows on the table.
Jake sits quietly, watching Dahlia speak. He's Alexander and she's Aristotle.
"I'm going to tell you something, but I need you to not act on your impulse. I'm just as angry as you will be, but this is going to be a short, but wise match between us and her. I don't want this bitch to just apologize, or even own up to what she did. I want her to rot in a fucking jail cell."
I try to synthesize her words in my head, mentally preparing to not fucking things up as usual.
She takes deep breath in, closing her eyes. "Gabby has something to do with what happened to Kaia at the party."
I shove my chair out, standing up and walking towards the exit of the room.
I'll kill her with my bare fucking hands.
And then I'll go next. If the guilt that lurched at my insides was causing me an ache, it was now placing me in a conscious coma.
All of this is my fault. If I had either;
1. Not touched Gabby that night,
2. Stayed away from Kaia, knowing that I didn't deserve her presence,
Things would've been different right now. I wouldn't have had to drive a barely conscious Kaia to the hospital as her body shivered from drug symptoms. I wouldn't have had to caress nail indentations from Kaia's wrists. If I had done things right, I wouldn't be facing the consequences of this shit hole right now.
I hear Dahlia shout my something out, but it just registers as muffled noise. I walk through the business of the Post Oak, the warmth suddenly suffocating me from the outside in. Sweat builds around me, sheening on my forehead.
The hostess from earlier saunters over, her smile growing as she approaches me. She places a hand on my forearm, stroking it lightly as she talks.
"Are you okay sir? Do you need anything?"
I roll my eyes. "Get the fuck off." I shove my arm out of her grip, and continue walking out. I'm shaking with anger, my hands trembling, resisting the urge to smash the large —probably expensive— paintings on the wall.
I enter my car, not bothering to put my seat belt on. I see Dahlia from my window, rushing out of the restaurant. She approaches my car and starts banging on my window with the nastiest glare I've seen in my life. I freeze, realizing that if there's someone I don't want to anger, it's probably Dahlia.
I lower my window, making sure it's not open wide enough for her to attack me.
"Are you fucking stupid? I tell you to not be impulsive and it's the first thing you do. Go and confront Gabby, expose what we know of her. Allow her to erase any sort of proof or evidence that might incriminate her."
Dahlia's pleading me to think straight, but I don't think I can do that right now. But she's right.
"Think for once."
I punch my dashboard. "Fuck."
"Get out of the car, and come back inside. I'll order you a bowl of spaghetti. It's really good here."
——
This pasta is really good.
I'm not a pasta kinda guy, but my dad loves pasta.
I should take him here once he's home.
"I didn't realize it when she said it to me, 'I'm just along for the ride right? Just like you were.' I've mulled her words over for so many hours that I can quote her by memory."
    I stare at her, biting down on the forkful of spaghetti. I shrug at her, not knowing what she's talking about.
    She pinches her nose bridge. "Men need so much explaining." Her eyes widen and she reaches across the table to shake my shoulders. "Cade, she saw us leave with Kaia at the party. Gabby had been watching us that night, and there's no way she would've known I was in that car with Kaia unless she had been specifically watching for us. And supposing that it was a coincidence —why would she use it to taunt me?"
    It all seems to click slowly into place. It does make sense... but why let Kaia go? Why watch her find help, if you purposefully caused harm upon her?
    "Along for the fucking ride huh?" I mutter, feeling my anger simmer down slightly. I'm still burning, but maybe this fire is more red than blue. "What are we going to do?"
    "I have a plan, but we need Kaitlyn to execute it. You and I are on her radar, she won't talk to either of us —but Kaitlyn, she'll talk to Kaitlyn."
    "You want to ambush Gabby," I say, realizing why she needs someone unexpected.
    "Precisely. Glad you're catching along."
    "What's your plan?"
She laughs nervously, looking at Jake. "See thats the thing, I was hoping you'd have a plan and we'd go off that."
Great. I'm not the most creative person, maybe that's why I ended up doing athletics and not joining the art club or some shit.
I enjoy physically exerting myself. In some way, it becomes a medium to release pent up anger, or tension. I rely on it to function.
I sit silent for a few minutes, staring at my hand on the table. This place really is a nice place to just talk.
Talking.
"I have an idea." Dahlia's attention rotates to me, along with Jake's. They both inch forward, waiting for me. "What if someone decided to turn their back on Kaia? What if we make Gabby believe that Kaitlyn's that person."
Dahlia grimaces. "Why would Kaitlyn do that though? I'd like to remind you that Kaitlyn showed Gabby exactly what she thinks of her on Friday."
    "Okay? She had a change of heart after some shit happened between you two, I don't fucking know? Do you have any better ideas?"
    Surprisingly, Jake responds. "No, that's good. Kaitlyn tells Gabby that Kaia got mad at her and Dahlia for what happened on Friday, subsequently, Kaitlyn has dirt on Kaia she thinks Gabby should know about." He leans back against his chair, crossing his arms across his chest.
    Dahlia smiles at Jake, looking at him like he's the most intelligent person in the world, like he just declared some unwritten prophecy.
    "Yes, that sounds perfect! I'll talk to Kaitlyn and see what she can do."
——
    I get home at around half an hour past nine. Everything is quiet inside the house, and I'm almost scared of treading up the stairs. Kaia is somewhere probably reading, or reading—except on her phone.
    I love it when she reads. Her face will heat up, and she seems so relaxed, disappearing into her own small world.
    In a sordid way, I wish I hadn't met her. I wish I wasn't so nervous of walking by her in the hall, not even staring in her direction because I wasn't sure what I'd do if I did. I wish my eyes weren't glued to her all the time, even when I'm driving —her mere presence becoming a traffic risk. I wish I hadn't felt her underneath me, her fingers caught between my hair, her body panting and groaning with just the sound of my voice.
    But I'm selfish.
    But the problem is that she isn't.
    Dahlia was right, I act on impulse. I do things because I want to, without thinking of consequences. Kaia thinks with her heart, and I think with whatever I'm fucking feeling.
    I pace up the stairs, finding myself luring towards her like a a shadow. She's asleep, knocked out. I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the soft shapes of her face. The way her tank top falls against her body, her shorts hugging her hips.
    I'll wait for the fall.
    I've been on the edge of the cliff for a while now.