you work too much. itâs a fact, an undeniable truth, but sonny feels the need to oppose everything kitty says. the real, undeniable truth: thereâs nothing to do but work. selling alcohol to girls barely old enough to drink and men that have been drinking longer than those girls have been alive, itâs his only reason for getting out of bed every morning (or afternoon, rather). the splendors of boot hill donât extend much beyond inebriation. having something to do every day, working so much, keeps his thoughts from focusing inward on himself, every failure heâs ever produced, every reason heâs just as much of a piece of shit as everyone has always told him he is. it keeps his mind and hands busy so he doesnât get wrapped around the svelte fingers of a rotten aphroditeâagain. heâs clearly impatient, eyes only glancing at her while he huffs hotly, begging the earth to swallow him whole. the weight of her stare and the weight of her hand feel like concrete, keeping him standing there instead of walking into the stock room or the menâs room where she canât follow, but sonny knows more than anything that nothing gets in the way of what kitty briar wants.
if she called, would he have picked up? a question that he barely has to consider; heâs her dog and heâll come running when she rings the dinner bell. maybe this time, he wouldâve let it ring a few times before picking it up. he hopes, at least. his response is a lie, but kitty doesnât need to know it: âno.â alison prevaricates, attempting to sound confident but his eyes flutter like mothâs wings as he avoids making direct eye contact with kitty. her stare, so pervasive, he can feel those eyes boring into every inch of his body, connecting the dots of his freckles and seeing right through him to the wall, like she can see right into his soul. he decides then that kitty should be a cop or something, thereâs not one crook that wouldnât fess up immediately, even to crimes they didnât commit, if they just had her eyes on them for a fleeting moment. itâs why he has to steel himself, turn his own eyes into hard blue fire, a barricade that canât be breached. he has to steel his heart, he has to make it into a pit. an endless, black one that kittyâll fall down on her way to his soul.
her hand leaves his, a relief. itâs supposed to be a loving, caring touch, the salve to his raw nerves, but it only burns like spilled acid. as kitty searches her purse, sonny lets his eyes rest on her and nearly feels that barricade crumble, an instantaneous demolition that only has his little sister finolaâs voice in his head, begging him to stop before it crumbles to dust. his gaze rips from her to the phone, met with a picture of him looking so happy, so lovesick and utterly pathetic. he doesnât see a picture of two young kids, carefree and euphoric. all he sees is a boy that he desperately wants to tell to run far away, run into that desert until he reaches what lies beyond the amen county line, run until kitty briar or deputy holm can never find him. run until he becomes just like eileen, maybe thatâs where heâll find her. the little memory kitty supplies doesnât make him smile, like he supposes was her intention. his stomach flips, but not from butterflies, only bitterness, like bourbon that wonât settle. perhaps if he wasnât irritated with her, itâd work. he knows it would. he knows his anger is all that saves him from kneeling at her feet, the loyal subject thatâs only been given a recess from her service instead of a reprieve. he looks from that phone to her openly sincere face, the pretty veneer. âkatherine,â alison spits, knowing just how much she hates to be called that, just as much as he hates to be called alison, âiâm not seventeen anymore. canât you go play with someone else? havenât you finally gotten bored of me?â she mustâve, she hasnât been around in ages. victims on rotation, he shouldâve known it was only a matter of time before kitty came back, but it hurts all the same.
          This had worked in the past. Kitty had seen a time when Sonny wasnât nearly this difficult to reel in, but times change and broken boys only grow harder. Raised a particularly fickle child, Kitty was never as certain about anything as she was when choosing which of her toys to play with for the month. Like dolls, all of her lovers were all special to her until they werenât. There was always a new doll with prettier eyes and softer lips that managed to catch her greedy little eye and distract her from the one that she was playing with.Love was a game that few were ever willing to play with her, but when they did, Kitty would always play to win. Children are allowed to be selfish in that way when theyâre playing with dolls, but Kitty was no child and Sonny was the furthest thing from a doll. His anger towards her, while understood, was unsettling in a way that she never quite expected. What made this time any different than all the others before it? They werenât that much older now than they were the last time their paths crossed one another, so what had changed? Yes, Sonny would add up another wall to guard his heart every time she came barreling back into his life, but never before had Kitty worked this hard to break through those walls. Sonny intended for the poison that dripped from his tongue to hurt her, to keep her far away from the wall of ice that concealed his bruised heart, but Kitty was never one to give up that easily. Sonny, didnât anyone tell you that Kitty dealt in flames?
          The very moment that her full name fell from his lips like a curse word, Kitty could feel her skin start to melt right off the bone. He was hurting and that was a sure-fire way to show her that she no longer meant anything to him. So long as Sonny only saw Katherine and not Kitty when he looked at her, she was sure that he would be able to continue icing out his heart. Kitty might have been like the elusive and mysterious wizard to the rest of oz, but Katherine was the girl the behind the curtain who worked all those pretty brass bells and whistles. Calling Kitty by her real name was the equivalent of pulling back that velvet curtain to see the fraud for what she really was. She needed him to seeonly Kitty if she had any hope of permanently replacing the bone chilling frost that coated his words with golden sunlight. Winning him over again would take some time, but Kitty was nothing if not determined. She had nothing but time in a town as small and uninteresting as Boot Hill. âI deserve that.â Kitty answered, releasing her gaze from his. She deserved to swallow every last bit of poison that he sent her way, and she would do just that. Kitty would endure his anger to show him that she cared about his feelings, that she was actually listening this time around. If making her feel small made him feel better, then she would suffer through it for him. Truthfully, Sonny was the only one that Kitty would ever suffer through it for.
         âIâm not playing with you, Sonny. I meant what I said.â A lie. Playing games was all that Kitty Briar knew how to do. What use were real feelings when artificial ones were so much more fun? "I want you to know that Iâm sorry.â Once again her hand found its way back on top of his in an attempt to draw him in. Part of her fully expected him to snatch it away from her given how disgusted he was with her, but she put all of those negative thoughts out of her mind and enjoyed the moment while it lasted. âI know you donât believe me or even want to hear me apologize to you, but itâs the truth.â Apologies, genuine or not, were often overlooked by Kitty. Girls like her were rarely ever sorry for the choices that they made, but she felt different this time. It almost felt right to apologize to him, but she quickly suppressed that thought. Of course it wasnât right, this was all for fun, he was for fun. Why should she feel bad about playing with Sonny when he was the one that allowed himself to be played with? Yes, thatâs a much more appropriate thought for her to have. That thought justified it all. âYou donât care about what I have to say and thatâs more than fair, but just let me prove it to you.â Sliding her fingers in between the spaces of his own, Kitty locked their palms together as she looked for an answer in his eyes. Let her in Sonny, she promised to be better. Her own cool blue eyes were soft and glossy, preparing for a fake flood of warm tears should he further reject her. There was no greater actress in Boot Hill than Kitty Briar when she really wanted something.
