KATHY MONTGOMERY
Year 2014
(Summer, The U.R.T., Harvester University)
They had met when Rowan showed up at the dormitory last night. Rowan's best friend.
Jill was right: no guy can last twenty-four hours with her cold silence. They'd always come crawling back, she said. And Rowan did exactly that. But he was the record breaker. Twenty-three hours after Jill started the war, he appeared at the door and begged to talk to Jill. He needed to ask for her forgiveness, to end his misery.
When Kate answered the door, he was there behind Rowan. Tall—his shoulders were above Rowan's—and in the pinkest of health with not a sign of Vitamin D deficiency anywhere. He's probably had more exercise than most guys on campus, and he has a nice face that makes one want to look twice—just like the doctor's, which should be frustrating, but it wasn't.
Now, standing before him again, Kate finally understood why she kept thinking about that smile of his—it reminded her of Snowy.
Freezing the sweet smile on her face, Kate Ares hissed "Talk later!", cut the doctor's call and yanked the phone off her ear to give her fullest attention to the guy standing before her.
"Kathy, right?" His voice melted the ice in her ears, and Kate felt her cheeks warming up.
If he had sparkly blue eyes, she'd throw her arms around him for a tight squeeze and tell him how much she misses him—NO! She shook her head profusely. You can't just go around hugging people just like that! And Snowy's an animal, not a person—Dr. Tim has said that a billion times!
"N—not Kathy?" The guy's confidence faltered. His smile turned sheepish as he scratched the back of his head, unable to look at her. "I swear I heard it right," he mumbled to himself, searching the concrete ground for that vital piece of memory.
And Kate dived in her people-pleasing frenzy. She waved her hands frantically as she blurted, "No!" He looked up in surprise then gazed down with amusement, and Kate quickly snatched her waving hands back. "I mean, yes! Yes, my name's Kathy—Kathy Montgomery."
The confidence was back in his smile as his right hand stretched out at her. "Marc—Marcus Robertson." The way his brown eyes shone with a tease ran more heat up Kate's face. This didn't happen with the doctor—or any of the monks at home.
Shyly, she reached out to take his hand when it jolted back. Kate wondered what went wrong and was about to think that she was being pranked, when she looked up and found Marc rubbing his wrist, his eyes scanning around for something.
Curious, she joined in and quickly caught his attention.
Hands shot into his jeans pockets, he flashed a grin of reassurance to hide the matter and stay on track, and said, "I didn't properly introduce myself last night, so I thought I'd come over."
Kate wasn't sure what to say in such situations. She just wished that he had blue sparkly eyes to go with that smile.
Thinking that his constant staring might have freaked her out and silenced her, he averted his gaze to focus on something else and hastily continued with his pursuit. "So uh, I just want to thank you for what you've done."
Now, Kate was confused. What had she done? She secretly hoped that Marc would grow fluffy white fur so she could run her fingers through them once more.
"Telling Rowan that Jill was stressed out by the prof, I think that was brilliant."
Was it? She squinted her eyes in puzzlement.
"You saved the lovebirds from breaking up. That's like saving the world." He chuckled at his comedic attempt.
And Kate was baffled. When was she in the equation? She was just a roommate to one and nobody to the other. She merely reported what she had witnessed.
Did Marc perhaps misunderstand something from last night? Perhaps she should tell him that Jill is the one in the relationship with Rowan, not her. Oh, but wouldn't he be offended by it? What if he starts hating me and tells everyone about it?
And then she decided: just follow what he's doing. Pulling up the corners of her mouth, she put on a smile for the 'camera'.
Encouraged, Marc grew more relaxed and protracted the small talk. "I was sure that Rowan would break up with her when he saw Jill absent. He thought that Jill was avoiding him."
"But she was at the atelier redoing her piece," Kate said, wondering why she had to go through the same conversation again. Would they end up differently this time?
More amusement filled those brown eyes. "You're such a good friend to Jill," Marc said in a private tone, and his face came closer so she was the only one who heard him. "I really like that about you," he whispered and cried, "Ow!"
Kate blinked. Marc had stumbled back. Pain was curling his brows as he massaged the right side of his forehead. Sensing the severity, she took the step to close the gap between them and asked, "Are you alright?"
"I think it's a bee." He showed her where it stings, and indeed there was a pink patch the size of her thumbnail.
But it didn't look like a bee sting. Instead, it looked like a—"Gravel," Kate blurted out.
Mark was horrified. "You mean someone threw stones at me?"
"Not stones. A gravel," corrected Kate in Dr. Tim's mechanical tone as she studied the radius of the patch. Then, she sighed in relief. "It must've been a very tiny one so there isn't much damage. Just a minor sting."
"A sting!" Mark looked like he was stabbed in the heart. "Will it leave a scar?"
"There's no blood. The epidermis is still intact," analysed a robotic voice, "so there won't be a scar." She fished out a packet of baby wipes to offer it as a cooling agent for the lightly grazed skin, but then changed her mind and skillfully pulled out a piece of wet wipe. She reached out for the patient's forehead, and an iron leash clamped around her wrist.
And she was yanked away.
Kate managed to catch Marc's "Hey!" before the wind took possession of her ears, and she could hear nothing.
She didn't know what was happening, but her feet were moving on their own, as though they were under a spell—as though they listened to someone more than her—and she was sprinting through the campus like an obedient mad woman.
When the signal of danger finally reached her mouth, it opened to scream for help, but Kate came to a screeching halt in the middle of a lonely space. In deep, hysteric breaths, she glanced around frantically, and the sight of the library building on her right settled her slightly.
But relief quickly died.
She was completely alone. Entirely hidden from any plain sight. She couldn't tell who took her, and he certainly wasn't here to properly introduce himself.
A giant hood concealed the top half of his face while a black mask hid the bottom half. Even so, Kate could tell that he was watching her, and she forgot to breathe. Something stirred in her.
Something that didn't feel like fear. Which was odd.
He was twice her height but wore clothes that were clearly too big for him. People who chose such attire have obvious reasons, and Kate concluded that he's a stalker with the psychopathic tendencies of a serial killer.
Then, sadness engulfed her. Did she offend someone so badly that they wanted to kill her?
A familiar chill seized her. She couldn't feel her feet. She couldn't feel anything, not even the ground, but she was as upright as a lamppost. Something bad is going to happen. It's as real as her empty stomach. Yet, there's nothing she can do—.
You got this, Kate, Dr. Tim's caution managed to push in. There's always a way—calm down and find it.
Her self-defense mode flipped on. Her body lowered; her right knee bent slightly. She watched him like a radar: the second he moved her kneecap would strike where it hurts the most.
He flinched—and the sudden smack of fear shoved her backwards. Her right heel was too fast for the left, and her toes rocketed off to the sky.
She couldn't see herself, but she was definitely falling like a felled tree. Unstoppable. No—there's always a way out! She stretched out—her fingers clawed desperately. Something, grab something, anything to stop this! Quick!
But gravity was much, much stronger. Kate squeezed her eyes for it. The concrete would split her skull open like a watermelon, and her brain smashed into bits. She would die at the age of twenty-one—no degree, no family, no boyfriend, no husband, no kids—.
The iron leash was back.
This time, she was yanked forward. A thick cushion of soft cotton and polyester and then a muscular frame of security. Warmth embraced her…her chills melted; her fear thawed. A sense of calmness enveloped her, which was unnerving and comforting at the same time.
And then the strangest thought came to her: this wasn't the first time.
She had felt this way before. The certainty came from her gut. No—it came from a distant memory… a memory from the monastery…from that warm, white furry winter.
Snowy.
Kate pulled back—and the most striking blue eyes met hers.
Time faded into the background. There was only him and those blue eyes. They were gazing upon her like a long-lost friend, those black irises shifting around her face, studying every corner, as though they knew what it used to be and were surprised by what it had become.
Was that her heartbeat or his?
Kate blinked, and she was back in the empty space behind the library building. His arms were secured around her waist while her palms were flattened against his chest—his heartbeat thudding gently at her fingertips.
The swell in his throat bobbed nervously, and that rattled the butterflies in her stomach. Kate knew she should get off him, but she didn't want to move away. There was something about him that was important. Something that would be connected to Snowy, and she needed to find out what it was.
Maybe that would lead her to Snowy.
"K–Kate," he breathed, and Kate halted in her tracks.
His voice was crisp, not low enough like the guys on campus. That pitch reminded her of one of the monks back home: Jack, the latest addition, a thirteen-year-old.
Kate stared at the towering giant in front of her, unable to hide her shocking discovery. He's a teenager?! But he's as tall as Dr. Tim! And more importantly—.
"How do you know my name?" she asked.
Those blue sparkles widened in surprise and then fear slammed right back into her. She was right: he is a stalker! She leaped from him, her hand in her bag fishing fiercely for the pepper spray.
But two innocent palms of surrender shot up, waving frantically. "C–Crescent Bar!" he blurted. Kate squinted her eyes in suspicion, and he swallowed his panic to enunciate more clearly, "I'm from Crescent Bar."
The name sounded familiar, but Kate couldn't quite picture what it looked like, until he added in a rushed breath, "I—We! We've been looking for you. You were there two weeks ago, weren't you?"
Kate remembered the signboard that glowed like a full moon in the dark street. But she knew better than to answer a stalker, so she said nothing and watched him carefully. The second he pounced she would spray the shit out of those gorgeous eyes.
"You're our eight thousand-eight hundred-and-eighty-eighth customer," he continued, "so we're inviting you back for a night of music and free drinks."
And more details of that night surfaced. She had followed Jill and Rowan to some club in the city. It was supposed to be a double-date—Jill had wanted to introduce her to Rowan's best friend, but then the basketball training got extended at the very last minute so the guy couldn't make it.
"Are you coming?" That silky high voice snapped her back to the campus, and Kate found herself pulled into those clear blue sparkles. They were still observing her in the shadows, and she should still be scared. But she isn't.
In fact, she wanted to put her arms around him. She wanted to tell him that she misses him. She misses Snowy badly. Her only friend. The only one who understands her.
He's an animal, Kate, you need to be conscious of your thoughts. Pull your mind back, echoed the doctor's voice.
She blinked again and snapped, "How do I know that you aren't a stalker?"
Those hands waved desperately again. "I'm not a stalker!"
"Then why did you take me away from my friend?" She wasn't as convincing either. Somehow, she didn't mind being taken away. She had already forgotten what Marc looked like.
Those blue eyes darkened slightly. "He's not your friend."
The flutters in her stomach grew wilder. What's wrong with you, Kate! He's a stranger! You don't know him at all! And he couldn't have known you! You should be angry that he talked to you that way!
And Kate threw out a warning glare and squeezed her fingers around the pepper spray. She couldn't bring herself to say 'you're not my friend either', so she retorted, "You're not from Crescent Bar either."
The boy fisted his hands. "I am from Crescent Bar!"
"Prove it."
His phone came out from somewhere and he quickly made a call. Then, he lowered his voice and talked into it. Kate thought he looked like a grumpy teen nagging his parents for some slack and felt a smile coming.
But she clamped her lips to silence it.
She must stay alert.
But her fingers had already abandoned the pepper spray, and she was crossing her arms like a schoolteacher demanding her student put his father on speaker so she could talk to him.
"Google it then. Ambrose Gold," said the voice from the phone and proceeded to spell it out for her.
Kate ignored the sarcasm and followed the voice, and immediately saw a handsome man around the doctor's age grinning back at her. But this wasn't enough. What if the voice belonged to a fake Ambrose Gold?
"Can we do a video call then?" she asked.
And the voice groaned his exasperation before instructing the boy to make the switch.
Soon, the man from the picture was talking to her from the screen. "Thank you for your verification," he said without his usual grin, his voice openly despising her, "if you accept our invitation, just let the boy know." And then the screen blackened.
Kate wasn't sure which to react to first: the rudeness of the club owner or his employee. Are they from out of this world? Is that why they lack basic human courtesy?
I must've gotten off from the wrong side of the bed, Kate grumbled inwardly as she returned the phone.
The boy took his phone from her open palm and asked, "Will you come?"
"If you aren't a stalker, then why do you dress like one?" Kate pointed at her mouth, and the boy mimicked her without hesitation. He felt the mask around his face, and those aqua eyes widened in another surprise.
Those handsome brows knitted in genuine confusion. "You mean stalkers wear this? I thought the weak and the sick do."
Guilt swarmed in again. Jesus, he's not well! Kate chided herself for jumping into conclusions and hurting a kid. "I'm really sorry! Are you not feeling well?" She took the step to close the gap between them, wanting to check if she had worsened his condition.
But he was startled by the sudden proximity and stumbled backwards, widening the gap once more, and Kate watched in horror as his back collided with the wall in a loud thud. "Oh my God, are you alright?!"
He held up a palm to stop her from coming closer, and Kate halted at an arm's length from him. She was more certain than a second ago that the boy is not a stalker. "I–I'm fine," he murmured through the mask.
"Are you sure?" Kate angled her body to check his face for signs of pain. "That was really loud. I think you hurt your spine."
He straightened to a serious posture and faced her directly to flash a thumbs up for reassurance. Even with the mask on, Kate could tell that he was beaming excessively behind it and found the sight even more adorable. A chuckle slipped through as she blurted, "you definitely remind me of someone."
Those beautiful eyes searched her face as a soothing voice whispered, "Who?"
That white, furry dog with sharp teeth and blue eyes popped in, and Kate dropped her gaze on the floor. It was too much for one to bear, and she laughed to ward off the tears. "You don't want to know."
"Try me," he said quietly.
That firm gentleness in his voice struck something in her. Kate looked up and that strong gaze felt even more familiar. The resemblance was so strong, she was confused. A person can't look that much like an animal. She can't be crazy, can she? But she's not crazy—and each passing second seems to peel another layer of the shroud he was carrying.
"Snowy," she blurted in a tiny murmur just loud enough for the two of them to hear.
His irises dilated in shock at the sound of that name, and she was snapped out of her memories. "I'm sorry!" Her hand-waving was back. "I'm not saying that you are a dog! I'm not saying that you look like one either! I just—what I mean is—I just—you just—."
"I reminded you of a dog." He finished for her, his jaw clenching in anger.
Kate plummeted into the final stage of her people-pleasing ritual. Oh no! He's not even looking at me now! He's angry that I called him a dog! And he's a child! Is he going to get PTSD from this? He's gonna get PTSD from this! This is bullying—I'm a bully now! She grabbed his hand and apologised profusely.
"I had a puppy—found it in the woods! It was my best friend and I missed it so much! Please don't listen to me. You're not a dog. You're a wonderful human being. You go to work even though you're sick—that shows what an amazing human being you are! Please don't be sad because of me—I'm really sorry!"
He blinked profusely throughout her speech, and then he simply pulled his hand out of her grasp and bolted off.
Kate opened her mouth to call out after him—and then it hit her: she doesn't know his name.
"Crescent Bar," she repeated his words.
Perhaps she should go again. To give him a proper apology. And to make sure that he doesn't sink into depression because of what she did.
*****
RAY HOOK
Year 2014
(Summer, The U.R.T., Harvester University)
He ran out of there as fast as his legs could carry him.
If he had stayed, he would definitely pull her into his arms, and that would freak her out even more. Worse, she might find out the truth about Snowy, and all those wonderful memories? They'd be her worst nightmare.
I don't want to be her nightmare. I want to be remembered. And his chest started pounding. The flutters in his stomach went wild. She remembers me, he thought with a grin. It's been years, and she still remembers me.
Ray gazed at the college entrance and let his mind rewind the reel of his memory to relive all that had just happened.
And then the boulder of a new worry settled on his back. She was apologising to him! She was apologising to him sincerely and he ran off without giving a proper response!
"Damn it, Ray," he chastised under his breath. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"