Page 2 of Consummation

I stand stock still, holding the boom box over my head. And I wait.

But no Kat. What the hell? Surely, she can hear the loud music—her apartment is one of the units closest to the street.

I continue waiting, holding the CD player over my head.

But, still, no Kat.

Shit.

A feeling of pure desperation floods me. Is she really gonna ignore me out here? I’m putting my fucking heart on the line for her.But wait. What if Kat hears the song but doesn’t put two and two together? What if she thinks it’s just some drunken asshole, passed out in his car, playing the oldies station much too loud? I quickly stride back to the sedan and bend down to the driver.

“Hand me my phone,” I say. “I’m gonna send my girl a text.”

“You want me to disconnect it from the stereo?”

“No,” I reply. “Keep the song going. I’ll just reach over you real quick.” The driver pulls my phone toward me, as far as it will go with the connection cord attached, and I lean over him and tap out a text to Kat: “Come out to the street, Kitty Kat. There’s a hound dog out here with his tail between his legs.” I press send on my message and quickly reposition myself with the boom box again.

A few seconds later, a shirtless guy with a beer belly marches out of the apartment building, a lit cigarette in one hand, a beer can in the other.

“What thefuck, man?” the guy shouts. “I’ve got a baby trying to sleep in there.”

“I’m doingSay Anythingfor my girl, man,” I say. “I’m in the doghouse.”

The guy makes a face like I’ve just blurted I have no penis.

“Dude, I got no choice,” I continue. “My girl’s a fucking unicorn.”

The guy nods and takes a long drag off his cigarette. “She likes that movie, huh? The one with the boom box?”

I roll my eyes. “She thinks it’s ‘romantic.’”

The dude laughs heartily and takes a few steps back, apparently ceding center-stage to me. “This I gotta see,” he mumbles.

A brunette woman comes out of one of the apartments, a look of complete annoyance etched onto her face—but when she catches sight of me, her face melts. She quickly disappears into the apartment building and returns with another woman in tow, and when the second woman sees me, her face melts, too. Well, shit. I’m glad these two women think I’m so fucking adorable, but they’re not my intended audience. Where the fuck is Kat? Could she be asleep already? Or maybe in the shower? Did she not see my text?

My arms are getting tired. I didn’t expect to have to do this for so long.

I shift my weight. Shit. In the movie, the girl looked out herwindow right away, didn’t she? What the fuck is taking Kat so goddamned long to come out here and put me out of my misery?

A guy’s face appears in the window of the front apartment. He turns to say something to someone behind him and an instant later, a second face appears in the window, laughing at me.

Well, let them laugh. As long as Kat comes out here and sees me and forgives me for crushing her, I don’t care if the whole world laughs at me tonight. All I care about is setting things right with Kat—making her understand my failure to tell her about Seattle had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me.

“Hey, sir,” the driver says to me above the music. “You just got a text. I don’t think she’s coming out.”

I lower my boom box and turn around to face him, my heart beating like a steel drum.

“She replied to your text,” the driver continues. He motions to my phone.

I lurch over to the car and grab my phone, my eyes bugging out of my head.

“I’m not playing hard to get or being a terrorist,” Kat’s text says. “I can’t see or talk to you tonight. Please just give me a couple days to think and regroup and figure a few things out.”

Two

Kat

“Happy birthday to youuu!” everyone at the table sings and Colby blows out the thirty candles on his carrot cake.

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