To Walk in His Shoes

August 7th.

I sleep in too late the next morning, and by the time I’m actually up, I have to quickly find an old shirt and a pair of shorts to wear. I called the number on the flier that asked for volunteers to help repair the Johnson’s house yesterday, and whoever answered was glad that I wanted to help. He told me to be there by 10:30 in the morning, but it’s already 10:20, so I know I’m going to be late.

I rush into the bathroom and put my hair in a somewhat presentable ponytail and throw on what little makeup I wear. My foundation spills in the sink and I inadvertently curse, knowing I’ll probably get chewed out for not being on time, especially on the first day.

When I’m finally done, I hurry down the stairs, skipping every other step, and grab a protein bar. I throw on my beaten up converse and head out the door, ready for the day that awaits me.

The sun is out and shines brightly in my direction, so I have to use my hands as a shield to prevent from going blind. I walk through the recently cut grass and frown, seeing Keith walk down the sidewalk. I’m actually surprised he’s not driving to the house, just because he’s that lazy.

Keith sees me and wrinkles his forehead. “What are you doing here, Kitty-Kat?” He asks.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I say, meeting up with him. We stroll down to the house and wait on the front porch. Less than five minutes later, we’re being handed buckets of paint and a couple of old paint brushes.

“All right folks. I just wanted to thank all of you for coming down here today. It’s going to take a lot of hard work and dedication, but with all of you, I know this house will be as good as new,” a man in his mid-forties says. He has brown disheveled hair and a long mustache that’s actually quite impressive, once you get past how disturbing it is. I instantly take notice that he’s the leader of this volunteer group, so I stop my bickering with Keith and listen.

“I’ll be splitting all of you in groups, so pay attention please,” he says. He points to three women and tells them they’ll be working on painting the front of the house, and are responsible for pointing out any burn marks or further damage that they come across. This goes on for a couple of minutes until he stops at Keith and me. “Since you two are fairly new, you’ll be working on carrying in wood and piling rotten or burned lumber in the back of that truck over there.”

I nod and set the paint can and brush down. Keith does the same, and we both stand up, getting to our stations, ready to start the day.

“I didn’t see you here yesterday, Kitty. What’s the deal?” He asks curiously, stroking his imaginary beard. I shrug and grab a log from the top of the damaged pile and bring it to the front.

“I could use the community service,” I say, throwing the log in the back of the truck. This job seems easy enough, but I know I’ll be tired, either from the labor or Keith. I’m voting for the latter.

“Mm, that’s what girls always say. Are you stalking me, kitty-kat?” He asks. I look at him, expecting his expression to be child-like, but I’m appalled to see he’s completely serious.

“Get over yourself, Keith,” I exclaim back, rolling my eyes. He lets out a wry laugh and follows me, carelessly tossing the lumber in the bed of the truck. We continue on like this for a few hours, walking back and forth, taunting each other constantly. And by the end of the day, the leader, whose name is Mark, calls us out on it.

“I’d like to thank everyone that helped today. And I’d also like to give a warm thanks to our young love birds over there,” he says teasingly. My cheeks turn bright red, and Keith tries to protest, but Mark continues. “They’re part of the reason that I enjoy doing what I do, because I believe that young people can really make a difference.” Mark scratches his mustache and I stifle a laugh.

Keith looks at me with a peculiar expression. I figure he’s wondering why I’m chuckling like a child on an intense sugar high. Mark drawls on about the Johnson’s, and his history with them. And although I’ve never actually seen him around, I don’t question his motives. Mark seems like a trustworthy guy, even if he knows the owners of this house or not.

“With that, I’ll let you guys off a bit early tonight. Enjoy the rest of your day, and I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he gives a sheepish smile, his cheeks turning a warm red, and hops off the front porch steps.

Pleased to be relieved of the job, I scuff the dirt from my hands and start to make my way back to the house. “Hey, Katrina, is it?” Mark asks. I turn around and smile at the older man.

“Yeah. What can I do for you?” I ask politely. I’d rather not get on his bad side. I witnessed him yelling at a man earlier for fooling around, and despite his happy demeanor, he can get equally as angry.

“Although Keith isn’t anywhere to be seen, I noticed how efficient you were today as partners, and I wanted to show my gratitude to the both of you,” he says. I smile at him and wipe the sweat from my brow.

“Oh, thank you Mark,” I say.

“Oh, I also wanted to let you know that because of your hard work, I’ll have you two painting instead of getting splinters while you dispose of that old wood,” he says, acting like it’s the greatest gift he can grant two rotten teenagers. I thank him anyway, although it really isn’t a big deal to me, and head off towards home.

It’s still bright out at six o’clock in the evening, so I’m not surprised to be greeted by a dark house. I slip off my shoes and tussle with the rubber band in my hair. My locks eventually fall flatly over my shoulders and I shrug. I don’t have anyone to impress.

I hear Keith talking to someone upstairs, so I sneak my way to where he is. Wherever Keith is, trouble isn’t too far away.

By the time I’m upstairs, I’ve already registered that he’s in Carter’s room, and no one else is home. Normally that’s not a problem. I stay in my room and Keith waits for my brother. But this time is different, and I can feel it.

I sit quietly by Carter’s door, scrunching up into a ball to try and pretend like I’m smaller, nonexistent maybe. My breathing becomes shallower and I focus all of my attention on Keith, for once.

“Mm, is that so?” He says. I’m aware that no one else is here, so I presume that Keith is talking on his phone. It might be that Marisa chick that I saw hanging on his arm a couple weeks earlier. But she didn’t seem like his type. She seemed nice. Keith doesn’t go for nice. Keith goes for easy. In fact, he always chooses the easier route, whether it be getting in girls’ pants, or cheating off of someone’s math test. That’s Keith. It’s just how he functions.

Minutes roll by, and I start to question my behavior. Since when did I care who Keith talks to? It’s not like it matters to me. It shouldn’t, at least. It’s none of my business, and that’s how we’ve always kept things. Keith stays out of my way, and I’m supposed to stay out of his.

Shrugging it off as some stupid teenage girl thing, I slowly begin to stand up. I stretch out my legs, noticing they’ve both fallen asleep. I wince in pain, shaking them slowly to try and gain some life back in my limbs.

“No, I’m all alone,” Keith says, his voice sounding huskier than usual. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. What does it matter if he’s alone? Is he having a private conversation that I’m not meant to hear? Or what if he’s making up rumors about me?

I can’t hear this. I’m finally gaining my conscience and I know that what I’m doing is wrong. Even if Keith is a total jerk, he deserves confidentiality too.

I’m standing on both feet when Keith talks again, and like always, I wish I could be far away from him at this moment.

“The things I would do to you if you were here, baby,” he starts to say. At first, I’m in utter shock. That’s private. I’m not meant to be hearing any of his conversations. But of course, I’m eavesdropping like a nine-year old does to find out stupid secrets.

And then I’m filled with a bitter resentment that chills me to the bone. Forgetting about confidentiality, I storm into Carter’s room. I’m positive my face is as red as a tomato, and my fists are clenched so tight that I’ve broken some skin. I don’t think about blood however, as I am overcome with the image of Keith.

He’s on the floor, almost naked, save his boxers. For a second, his face is covered in pure longing, desire, and a yearning for whomever is on the phone. But when he sees me, his mouth drops open and he loses all the color in his face.

My eyes are wide, yet I’m pretty certain his are wider.

“What are you doing?” I ask furiously, looking at anything that can distract me from his almost naked body.

“You know, I could ask you the same thing,” he says, pressing the end button on his phone. Keith stands up, not bothering to put any pants on, and trudges towards me. “I knew you were annoying and bothersome, but I had no idea how low you could really go.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re the one who was about to have phone sex with a girl in my house,” I exclaim, shaking my head in frustration. I think I see a hint of a smile appear on Keith’s face, but it happens so quickly I can’t tell for sure.

“That’s why you stay in your room or dance or whatever the hell you do,” he says. His hair is a mess and his eyes are filled with so much hatred they almost appear red.

“Whatever. Just stay the hell away from me, you nasty pig,” I say, not even glancing once at his body, which I’m aware is said to be beautiful. Yet I don’t care, not when it’s on someone like him.

I used to think I hated Keith, but now I know for sure.