3: The Karate Kid, Prologue

The Reine Family Home.

June 25th, 2014: 9:23 PM

Katelyn Reine’s eighteenth birthday was easily her worst. Not that they were typically fabulous. Katelyn hated being the center of attention, so she usually kept the date to herself and, if she was feeling adventurous, went out to breakfast with some friends. Even putting aside the big thing - this was her first birthday since her brother Albert had died - there were plenty of little things that brought her day down. She’d just been let go at GameStop (something that had been a long time coming given Katelyn’s steadfast refusal to push rewards cards on customers), her parents had failed to make breakfast, and her boyfriend canceled their bowling plans, citing a late shift at Target.

She was just happy to be home and going to bed.

It wasn’t until the noise of her car’s engine subsided and her headlights were off that Katelyn realized how dark and still her neighborhood was. On a summer evening, the east end of Cierto usually didn’t sleep until at least eleven, but tonight the lights were off in a majority of the houses, hers included, and the only active streetlight was at the far end of the block. Even her neighbor’s dogs were quiet, which was unheard of.

As Katelyn got out of her car, she found it unusually cold, too. Colder than it was when she’d left work, anyways. And when she slammed her car door behind her, the echo seemed to hang in the air just the tiniest bit longer than it should have. Katelyn shivered, and crossed the small space between her car and her front door just a bit faster than normal, her footsteps noticeably loud, even when she cut through the grass.

Katelyn’s keys slipped from her grasp as she pulled them out of the pocket of her blue hoodie, and the resulting sound was like nails on a chalkboard. “Shoot,” she muttered as she hastily picked them up. Upon fumbling with the lock, Katelyn found that the door was already opened. Her mom was a machine when it came to locking the door, so if it was unlocked that would mean she had yet to go to bed.

So then why were the lights off?

She could feel her pulse in her ears as she threw the door open, revealing only darkness and the vague shapes of her living room furniture. “Hello?” Katelyn tried to say, but she wasn’t sure any sound actually came out. After quietly closing the door behind her, Katelyn immediately tripped over something that shouldn’t have been there. It felt like a foot, and it made an “umph” like a person. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping tears from Katelyn’s eyes as she threw on the lights.

“Surprise!”

Suddenly, Katelyn’s living room was filled with people. Her parents were standing on either side of a table containing an orange cake surrounded by various birthday cards and wrapped boxes. On the wall behind them were colorful plastic letters spelling out “Happy Birthday Katelyn!” The foot she tripped over belonged to none other than Andrew Jonathan Warren-Wilson, the aforementioned boyfriend with the supposed night shift.

The living room was also filled with a variety of neighbors and high-school acquaintances, which was hardly her ideal company. She tried to force a surprised smile, and while she definitely succeeded in looking surprised, she had a feeling her smile looked more like indigestion.

The singing and the candles and the cake were embarrassing, but the worst of the party came after. Katelyn’s living room quickly filled with the hum of several dozen conversations going on at once, and she was confronted by a seemingly endless procession of guests wanting to talk to her, particularly her parents’ friends. The Garders, the Carsons, the Miltons, the Wests, and the Gillans, one after another with no breaks in between.

The discomforting reminder that the Reines were the only black family in her neighborhood was bad enough, but the conversation was far worse. When she wasn’t explaining to someone that she had just graduated from high school, she was telling them she was studying Computer Science and saying “yes, it is very interesting” or she was accepting some hollow, belated condolence for the loss of her brother. Otherness, repetition, pain. Happy Birthday Katelyn!

The only guests Katelyn were truly interested in talking to were the Warren-Wilsons. Lauren Warren-Wilson, a stout, short-faced woman whose perpetually jovial face hid behind her long black hair and wide, round glasses, was engaged in conversation with Katelyn’s mother. Parker, Lauren’s professional-looking, hard-faced husband with gelled black hair, had his hands in his pockets and was politely making an effort to appear engaged in his wife’s conversation, though his mind was clearly elsewhere. Jenna, a girl of sixteen with wild black hair, beautiful green eyes, and a body of which Katelyn had found herself jealous in recent years, was looking at something on her phone and actively trying to separate from her family, or at the very least pretend that she didn’t know them.

And last but not least, standing a few feet away from the rest, and answering an onslaught of questions from Katelyn’s father (about college and his family’s upcoming move to New York, Katelyn suspected) was Andrew Jonathan Warren-Wilson. She’d been separated from him all night, and hardly able to process his presence, and now Katelyn’s heart skipped a beat when she saw him. He stood in stark contrast to his nicely dressed family, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a partially-zipped grey hoodie. It was effortless, Katelyn knew, much like his dark brown hair that hadn’t seen a comb in years, but that was what Katelyn liked about it. It was so…honest. His body type wasn’t really scrawny or fat or muscular, and he was of a pretty average height, but he was handsome all the same. He shared his mom’s short face and his sister’s attractive, green eyes, and his features were soft and sort of childish but noticeably masculine. Soft and childish. Those were good words for Andrew in general.

Free at last from her small talk prison, Katelyn crossed the room to rescue Andrew from her father, only to be intercepted by Lauren. They were already leaving. “Sorry we didn’t get to talk much, Katie!” she said, using a nickname that Katelyn hadn’t worked up the courage to admit she hated these last twelve years. “I’m sure Andrew’ll have you over any day now, though.”

“Actually, I was wondering if could borrow your son for a little longer?” Katelyn asked. Lauren said that she could, of course. “Great, I’ll have Andy home soon,” she promised, using a nickname she knew full well that Andrew hated.

She hugged Lauren, shook hands with Parker, and waved goodbye to Jenna, and the Warren-Wilson’s departed after wishing her a happy birthday one last time. Before long, Katelyn’s parents had gone off to bed, leaving only Andrew and Katelyn standing in the partially-lit, party-torn living room.

“I thought we’d never get some time together,” Andrew said once her parents had closed their door.

Katelyn grinned. She couldn’t help herself. “Tell me about it,” she said. “I was trying to sneak over to you all evening, but I kept getting caught. They make it seem so easy in Assassin’s Creed.”

Andrew laughed once at her comment and suddenly he was scrutinizing her in a way that made her face warm and her stomach flutter. “You’re finally wearing glasses again,” he said, and Katelyn noticed that they’d gravitated a little closer together. She could feel her heartbeat in her chest. They’d been together for almost two years, but they’d only just started having sex a week ago, and suddenly every interaction - every touch, every breath, every word - was filled with a new, electric energy. Andrew’s pupils were dilated, two emerald-rimmed black spheres drinking in her image. He wrapped his arms around her waist delicately. “They look great on you.”

Then suddenly her arms were around his neck and she pulled his lips to hers, and they were halfway to her bedroom by the time it ended. They shared a low, breathy laugh, amused at their own eagerness. “I love you,” she murmured. He returned the sentiment. “Wow, my college boyfriend,” she added, suddenly struck by the thought. “Soon you’ll be living away from home and I can come visit you and…wow. These next four years are going to be killer, I can feel it.”

Andrew didn’t respond. Katelyn could feel the warmth leave them as the passion rushed out of the room. To Katelyn’s unexpected horror, he looked at her nervously. Guiltily. “Right?” she asked, quietly. Her stomach felt cold. Empty.

“I didn’t want to do this now,” Andrew said. His pupils were small. His eyes green eyes lost their sheen.

Katelyn glanced at her bedroom door. “This this?” she asked. “We don’t…we don’t have to.”

“No, not…” Andrew trailed off. “I can’t do this,” he said. “It’s not because of you, I just…I don’t want to do this.”

Silence expanded in Katelyn’s throat, swallowing her words whole. She grasped for an explanation. For sense. Andrew said some things Katelyn didn’t understand. Katelyn cried. Shock and cold and silence gripped her and rooted her to her spot.

“I’ll call for a ride home,” Andrew said. She was still standing there, dumbstruck, when he walked away. That was the last thing he ever said about their breakup.

       Katelyn Reine’s eighteenth birthday was easily her worst.