Match This! (The UnSocial Dater#1) (17 page)

@rider1: Sleep well

Kat: No other way to sleep

@rider1: There are plenty other ways to sleep

Kat: Oh please don’t start the bullshit with me

@rider1: Care to fill me in?

Kat: Ask me 4 my number. Send a pic of your tiny package. I won’t fall for it.

@rider1: U must be mistaking me 4 a desperate man. Heads up. I’m not.

Kat: Then why are you on here? Did you use up all the hometown hoes.

@rider1: That’s an insult to u as well Kat.

Kat: I never said I wasn’t a ho.

@rider1: Interesting.

His reply is brief and honestly I am curious about him. I press the profile button and his pictures pop up. His head is shaved, he has on shades, he’s shirtless and has some ink. The pictures are too dark and blurry to really see him, but what I do see I kind of like.

@rider1: you like what you see?

Kat: Excuse?

@rider1: U do know when U look at a profile they see that shit right?

Kat: So. BTW you’re missing a fish.

@rider1: BTW, fish is not a dish.

Kat: Pig

@rider1: No babe I’m not.

Kat: Babe is a pig, and I am not one either.

@rider1: That’s too bad.

Kat: U like hos?

@rider1: I like you.

Kat: You don’t even know me.

@rider1: I know you take no shit. U aren’t afraid to step outside the box.

Kat: Is that so?

@rider1: Tell me it’s not.

Kat: Your pictures suck. What are they, twenty years old?

@rider1: I have some on my computer, just can’t get them up.

Kat: There’s a pill for that

@rider1: Technologically challenged babe. No problems in that area.

Kat: It’s your story. Figure out how to put up more pics. Google it.

@rider1: Give me ur email address, I’ll send them.

Kat:
[email protected]

@rider1: Babe, ur worried about dick pics, don’t give out ur email address.

Kat: Don’t tell me what to do.

@rider1: U know what they can find out w/ ur e-mail address?

Kat: No. Don’t care.

@rider1: IP address. Home address. Hell they can get it all. U feel safe?

The thought of that does freak me out a little, but I won’t admit it.

@rider1: Same thing with ur phone number Kat. Be safe babe.

Kat: You gonna offer me candy now? Lure me in with the big daddy vibe?

@rider1: I don’t need candy Kat and I’m not ur daddy.

Kat: Arrogance isn’t a turn on.

@rider1: No problems in that area either.

Kat: I need to sleep.

@rider1: Yet here you r.

Kat: You started this conversation.

@rider1: sure did.

Kat: Then shouldn’t you ask me out?

Fuck I hadn’t meant to send that!

@rider1: No.

Kat: Then what the hell are you messaging me for.

@rider1: Liked your profile

Kat: I don’t need a pen pal.

@rider1: I know exactly what you need.

Kat: is that so?

@rider1: You need to get fucked.

Kat: Nope, all set.

@rider1: meaning?

Kat: I had an actual date tonight.

@rider1: And let me guess, you fucked him?

Kat: I don’t have to answer that.

@rider1: Obviously not good enough if you’re trolling already.

Kat: Again, you messaged me.

@rider1: Still obvious that you didn’t get what you were after.

Kat: What was I after?

@rider1: You wanted a man, not a boy.

I start to reply and another message pops up.

@rider1: U don’t want it sweet you want it hard

@rider1: U want a man who can bend U over and fill U up.

@rider1: U want your ass bruised with fingerprints

@rider1: left because the man inside u was just as fucking lost

@rider1: in it as you were

@rider1: U want a man who makes damn sure u come on his

Oh fuck me, why stop there?

@rider1: fingers, his tongue, then his cock.

@rider1: u need a man to fill that cunt so full it’s still

@rider1: dripping out of you in the morning

@rider1: you want your hot wet pussy so sore you can’t move

@rider 1: without feeling like he’s still inside u 4 days.

Son of a bitch, this is so….Hot, I mean wrong. It’s so wrong.

@rider1: u need a man, not some punk ass bitch

Kat: No. I need me.

@rider1: Goodnight Kat.

I don’t reply. I couldn’t.

The drive home is torture. Pure torture. Macey drives because apparently she is immune to hangovers. My mother is in front with her holding a bag in case she vomits. Steph’s man drove two hours to get her because apparently we are bad influences.

I’m not sure I like him anymore.

Apparently her loose lips sank my ship. Unbeknownst to her drunken ass, she sank hers too. I’m not sure I like her anymore either. I’m not sure I like anyone anymore.

My phone vibrates and it’s message notifications. I scroll through the fucking preppy Kens and vow to make a plan to get Macey back when I come to @rider1

I read through last night’s messages, and can’t help but smile when I see one from an hour ago.

@rider1: Good morning Kat. I’m sorry

I message back immediately.

Kat: Sorry for?

@rider1: The void between what I assume are the sexiest legs on the shore

Kat: The void?

@rider1: I know you don’t still feel him.

Kat: It’s far too early to deal with you.

@rider1: Have a good one.

Kat: U2

I wake up when we pull in the driveway.

I don’t say a word when I get out of the car, walk into the house, and go straight to my room. I throw the covers down, drop my shorts, kick them and my shoes off and flop on the bed.

I grab a pillow and cover my face.

“Oh, sorry.”

I flop the pillow off of my face. “Shit. I’m upstairs.”

“Scoot,” she says and flops down beside me.

I start to sit up and she holds her hand out. “Just stay.”

I do.

Every time I am about to fall asleep either Mom’s or my phone pings.

I force myself to roll over and turn my phone off. Then hers goes off and she groans and does the same.

I wake up to my hair being twirled and snuggled up against a warm body. When I open my eyes I see boobs. Mom boobs.

I jump and she gasps. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay.” I hold my head as I stand up.

“Thank the Lord one of us is,” she groans and rolls to her side.

****

I walk out and grab two cups from my cabinet and the bottle of ibuprofen. I fill up her cup and dump two pills in my hand. I walk in my room on severely shaky legs.

“Drink this and take these,” I whisper because if I don’t my head will explode.

“Thank you Kather-” she pauses, “Kat.” She sits up and sighs, takes the cup that says, ‘I Like Peen’
,
and takes the pills.

I start to walk out and she says, “You can stay in here.”

“I need to start laundry,” I whisper.

“It’s done,” she says and pats the bed.

“Thanks, but I can’t lay here all day.” My words contradict my actions as I climb into my bed.

Mom smiles and then grabs her phone.

“Please don’t turn that back on.” I hold my head.

“Just looking to see if Sam or Darby called or messaged,” she says looking at the screen of her iPhone Plus.

“Did they?”

She lays back down and groans, “No.”

“Just pot right?”

“Just pot?” she asks wide eyed.

“Well, it’s not coke or meth Mom,” I defend.

“Right,” she says laying back.

“Is there more?”

She shakes her head no.

We lay there quietly, both waiting for the other to say something.

“Aside from how I feel this morning, I had a great time yesterday,” she says.

“Yeah.” I shake my head almost disbelieving what is about to come out of my mouth. “Me too.”

“Watch some TV?” she asks.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

****

We spent the whole day in bed together,
Netflix and talkin
. We switched between TV shows because we couldn’t agree on a movie. She likes chick flicks, I like horror. She got thirty minutes of HDTV’s Fixer Upper with Chip and Joanna Gaines, she apparently thinks I resemble Joanna, with art. When she calls my tattoos art I nearly die. I got to watch an hour of
The Walking Dead
, she only looked away once in a while.

When we needed a break for hydration, the bathroom, or a meal, I voiced my opinion on Darby living in Wildwood if she is having issues with drugs, and she assures me she knows what she’s doing.

“I raised you, Kat, and even though I don’t approve of everything you do, you seem to be doing fine. You own a home, have a stable...job, and although you may drink too much, you are a very responsible young woman.” She continues, “I know where I failed and I will not do it again.”

It actually warms my heart a bit.

“There is another reason for me being here,” she says looking over at me.

“To get help hooking up,” I joke. “Get offline and get out. You did fine yesterday.”

“I was
drunk
,” she whispers ‘drunk’ like someone may hear her. “I like the safety of being behind the keyboard.”

“It’s a joke,” I laugh.

“You’ve had two dates,” she says giving me the Mom-ster eyebrow raise.

“Let’s be honest here. I’ve had two hook-ups.”

“Hook-ups are dates,” she states.

“No, hook-ups are supposed to end between the sheets.”

She looks confused.

“When someone asks you if you want to hook-up it means sex. Netflix and chill is banging on the couch while Netflix plays in the background. Boff, smash snatch, bump fuzzies, stanky on the hang low-”

“Katherine!” she gasps and laughs.

“Horizontal bop, hit it, home run, knock boots, put your feet on my rug, pound the duck, sexy time—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” she laughs.

“I’m not sure you get it Mom, it’s a different world.”

“I am beginning to see that.”

“Do you know what a meat thermometer is?” I ask trying to drive the point that no, she doesn’t get it, home.

“Of course I do. 135 to 140 degrees is how we eat our steak.”

“Tube steak, wankie, trouser snake, Mr. Happy, boom stick, Jimmy Johnson, bald headed yogurt slinger, love shaft, the D-”

“Okay, yes, I get it.”

“Get what?”

“A meat stick is a penis.”

“Yeah.”

She grabs her phone and hands it to me. “Here, pick one you don’t think is a sexual deviant or married, or a serial killer for goodness sake.” I take it. “Now give me yours.”

“I don’t think-”

“Kat and Carrie,” she says still holding her hand out. “Not Katherine and Mom-ster.” I feel my eyes widen. “Don’t act like it’s a shock. I know you and Darby call me that behind my back.”

“She told you that?” I’m shocked.

“There was a baby monitor under her bed until she was ten.”

“That is so damn wrong,” I say because it is, and because I am wondering what else she heard.

“She used to walk in her sleep and have nightmares,” she shrugs. “I won’t apologize for trying to keep my child safe.”

I don’t say anything because I feel that she’s being sincere. I also sure as hell, don’t want to discuss what else was said.

“The other reason I came,” she says redirecting the conversation to where we had veered off track. “Your trust fund.”

“My what?”

“When your father passed we had life insurance. I was very careful with the money for the year it was just you and I. When Sam and I married, we put half of it in a trust fund for you. There is quite a substantial amount in there.”

“Is that how you bought the house on the beach?” I ask because my mother had no money of her own. Sam worked outside of the home. He worked full time as an accountant and a few hours a week at the Catholic school helping with curriculum development.

She nods. “Sam was not happy with me.”

“It’s not Sam’s money,” I say.

She nods. “I know.”

She looks away and there is sadness in her eyes that I rarely see.

“Hey Mom?”

She turns back and smiles. “Yes?”

“Who’s that smile brought to us by?”

“Confusion?” she giggles.

“What does Sam say about Darby’s pot issue?” She doesn’t answer. “Mom?”

“I told him it was mine.”

“Come again?” She rolls her eyes. “Did you just say you told him it was yours?”

“He was so angry, the look on his face when he walked out of the bedroom,” she pauses and shakes her head. “I never wanted her to see him look at her that way, so I-”

“Are you kidding me?” I gasp.

She shakes her head no.

“You have to tell him the truth,” I almost yell at her.

“No.”

“Mom, be serious.”

“I never want any man to look at his daughter the way he looked at me. That’s not something you get over.”

“Why would he even believe it was yours?”

“I found it, and put it in my dresser drawer.”

“Why was he in your dresser drawer?”

She looks away.

“Come on, you found a laundry basket full of plastic peens, if that’s what he was going for—”

She laughed. “He would have died.” She laughs harder. “Oh my good Lord, he would have died.”

“Shitty sex life?” I can’t help but ask, I mean that would explain some of her issues.

“Katherine,” she scolds.

“Kat,” I correct.

“He’s not your father, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, that may be TMI.”

“Your father was the love of my life. Every girl in the neighborhood wanted to be his and all he wanted was me.”

“But he got shit faced every day?”

“He stopped for drinks more than he should have, that’s for sure. That day, it was much longer than usual.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “I’ll never know and Kat, I know he loved us, so it wasn’t us.”

“I never said it was.” I look down.

“But I’m sure you thought maybe he needed a break from me. Maybe I drove him as crazy as I do you. Heck, maybe you’re right.”