MILEAGE X

Chapter 10
Bodies -- 1


  THE LOOK on Catherine's face when she looked from me in my sport's bra and boxer briefs and messy bed hair to Miranda with equally as messy bed hair was slightly funny, briefly fulfilling and enjoyable even for a moment until a brief pang of guilt hit me somewhere inside. She looked upset but she was clearly trying to conceal it.
  My father on the other hand looked from me to Miranda and then blushing, quickly turned away, missing Catherine's reaction completely. All I could get out for the moment was a tiny:
  "Yeah, Pop?"
  "Get some clothes on, let's talk?" he asked, still looking at the wall.
  "Sure, Pops," I answered, slowly closing the door on him and Catherine's blank face.
  I could backhand Miranda. Twice now.
  Miranda quickly scuttled down the stairs to avoid me drop kicking her and I ran after her, almost tripping on the sheet that she let drag on the carpet behind her.
  "I'm going to kill you," I said to her through gritted teeth.
  She giggled and plopped back on the bed, still naked, letting the sheet slide down to the floor. I leaned over her and kissed her giggles away. She dead had me on full simp mode and although I could understand it and she deserved it, I wasn't ready to be ready for it. Miranda put her fingers in my hair and began massaging the thought away.
  "You're not killing anyone," she whispered lustfully.
  "Don't do that," I said to her, backing up and heading to my dresser. "Unfortunately, I have business to handle." I pouted at her.
  "Aw, poor thing," she replied, pouting back.
  "Yeah, I might be moving sooner than I thought. But either way," I slipped on a pair of basketball shorts, "I'm going to fuck you up."
  Miranda rolled her eyes and curled up into a ball on the bed. Pulling a wifebeater over my head, I walked over to my linen closet and threw a sheet at her. She happily wrapped herself up in it.
  "Be right back," I said, sadly, and headed upstairs.


  Catherine and my father sat in the kitchen, in an awkward silence that slapped me in the face when I entered. The silence actually almost physically turned me around and pushed me out the door but the look of absolute stress on my father's face kept me there. I slowly sauntered past Catherine and sat on the other side of him.
  "So... Father?" I asked, nervously. I definitely, definitely, should have smoked before enduring this weighted situation.
  He placed a small pile of letters on the counter in front of me and my stomach instantly dropped and my hands grew cold. I felt like I was at the starting line for a race at an important meet after having missed a week of practice smoking and drinking. Basically, I felt like I was walking into a set up for failure.
  "You should read this," he said, sounding more stressed than he looked. Guilt started dancing around inside of me because I knew how he felt- and I was part of the reason he felt like this.
  I took the stack of letters and unfolded the first one. My eyes instantly jumped to the date and I almost choked on my spit when it registered. Catherine was more fucked up a person than I thought.     The date on the letter was one before me and her even began our intense fling-- which apparently was meaningless-- well, obviously, was meaningless.
  My eyes scanned the letter, reading as a doctor, who apparently was male, expressed his feelings for Catherine as well as the guilt for having these feelings when he had a wife and kids and she had a fiance and a future stepdaughter. As if that wasn't enough, the good doctor signed the letter in sloppy but legible script: "Dr. Auburn".
  I wanted to vomit. I literally gagged. I put the letter down and stared bullets in to Catherine. Her face remained blank. I wanted to spit in it.
  "Catherine," I said. "Are you fucking-"
  "Keep reading," my father boomed. I almost looked around for James Earl Jones. His voice went from stressed and strained to angry and heavy. I wish I could figure out what he was thinking.
I picked up the next letter and read. More about Dr. Auburn-- the male-- and his undying love. The next letter was his sadness over her breaking it off because she had fallen in love with someone else. He questioned her sexual health, then her sexual orientation and asked who "this lover girl" was. I looked at the date on this letter-- our fling had freshly started.
  I didn't glare at Catherine after this letter because at least she tried to have some kind of couth about her even though she was still trifling. I halfway appreciated that, but I still wanted to throw her shit out on to the lawn and start up the sprinklers and then change the locks.
  I kept reading until I got the second to last letter. This letter was from someone I was already familiar with. Suddenly the female Catherine was in love with disappeared from matter. The doctor poured out her love and not once was there mention of my father. It seemed he disappeared when she went from Dr. Auburn the Male to me.
  The last letter was Dr. Auburn the Female talking shit about me for the most part. Although no name was mentioned, the perceived jealousy made it obvious (to me) that I was the topic.
  Again, I put the letter down and shot Catherine a glare of death. She refused to look at me. I slid the letters to my father in an irritated and disgusted silence. Perhaps this was the silence that smacked me and attempted to push me back out the door.
  "Well," my father rubbed his head, messing his hair up. His voice was back to stressed. "This isn't something I would've discussed with you normally, Tiki," he started. "But it looks like Catherine has been messing with a young female amongst others." He looked extremely hurt, like physically, as if someone ran over half of his body with a Denali. I felt absolutely terrible and didn't understand how Catherine could not feel just as terrible. "I caught a glimpse of Sam in Catherine's phone so I wanted to ask you if you knew anything about that. Catherine..." His voice trailed off and I felt terrible because I knew that my father felt deep down that the female being dragged in that letter was me, and that, on top of that, Sam had gotten some of Catherine, too.
  "Catherine..." I looked over to her as she stared blankly out the window across from us. She didn't turn to face me, didn't acknowledge me, didn't blink. She appeared completely spaced out, as if she were dealing with trauma. Fuck that. "CATHERINE," I said louder. She didn't move. I got up and walked around the island so that I was facing her. I banged on the counter top in front of her so hard my hands tingled. "Catherine, Catherine, fucking Catherine!" She stared me straight in my face, her eyes tearing up. Her bottom lip dramatically trembled as she fought back her tsunami. I wanted to hold her, roll my eyes, curse her out and tell her everything was going to be all good at the same time. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Catherine sniffled and a tear rolled out and down her cheek. "Catherine," I said gently. "We were best friends, you and my dad were best friends. Speak up."
  "Catherine is denying ever having done anything with Sam," my father interjected.
I was stuck. I couldn't squeal on Sam, but I couldn't lie to my father. I had done way more than enough damage. I couldn't admit to my father I knew about Sam and Catherine without snitching on myself. I had to snitch on myself at some point, however. I couldn't lie to him anymore. I couldn't stand to hurt him anymore, though. I had no idea what to do and the shit was actually currently blowing up and I had front seats.