by Tucker, RH
I push his stomach with my foot. “Okay, Mr. Party Pooper.”
He laughs, and we return to watching the movie when Felicia walks into the apartment.
“Hey,” I call to her, grabbing another chip. We’ve talked since our argument, but not about the argument itself.
“What’s this?” She nods to the TV.
“Sthaswe thrd th deurk,” I answer her with a mouth full of chips.
“You’re disgusting,” Taylor laughs, shaking my foot. “Slashed thru the Dark,” he answers her.
“Oh.” I catch her looking back and forth, between Taylor and I. “Hey, Mom wants to have lunch tomorrow. Taylor, you finally ready to meet the ’rent?”
“Felicia!” I send her an exasperated look. She’s done that three times already. Of course I want him to meet my mom, but he always seems uneasy when it’s been brought up. “But she would love to meet you,” I add timidly.
“Yeah, you talk about him enough,” Felicia remarks with an annoyed smirk.
A quietness falls among all three of us. Taylor raises his eyebrows. “I can’t tomorrow. Sorry.”
“No, it’s totally fine. It’s not a big deal.”
Felicia lets out another scoff and heads to the kitchen. Turning down the volume on the TV, Taylor lifts my legs and scoots closer to me, laying my legs over his.
“Hey … if you really want me to, I will.”
“It’s okay. If you can’t, then you can’t.”
Another round of quiet falls between us before his phone starts ringing. I glance over and see the name on the screen. AJ. An unsure expression crosses Taylor’s face as he answers.
“Hey, it’s late. You okay?” The unsure expression switches to concern. “Whoa, whoa, calm down. No, it’ll be okay. I know, I do too.”
He’s not paying any attention to me, moving my legs off of him and standing up. He’s entirely focused on the call.
“It’s gonna be okay. Yeah, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Hanging up the phone, he slides it in his pocket and reaches for his shoes. “I gotta go.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine, but I have to go. Now.”
“Are you sure? That sounded serious.”
He ties his shoes furiously. “It’s fine.”
I sit there, quietly, watching him finish putting on his shoes, throwing on his jacket and grabbing his helmet. Then he’s out through the door. The TV plays softly in the background, but I barely recognize it, trying to figure out what just happened.
“Oh, no booty call tonight?” Felicia laughs, sitting on the couch, with a pint of ice cream.
I roll my eyes at her. “How many times have I told you I hate that phrase? I’m not a booty call.”
“I know that. He’s the booty call.” She laughs again, while I roll my eyes at her. “What am I supposed to call it? You don’t call him your boyfriend, even though he seemed to be acting mighty boyfriendly a second ago with those foot massages.”
“We’re just … friends.”
She laughs, scooping out a spoonful of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. “Friends? Right.”
“Fine, monogamous friends. Happy now?”
“No, I’m not.” She licks the spoon and then points it at me. “Sash, I get that you’ve had shitty luck with guys, but this is not the one.” I don’t respond though. Instead, I look down at the couch cushion. “I know you like him, and yeah, it seems like he likes you enough, but he’s hiding something. You have to see that.”
“I do.”
“So, please know, I’m not saying this because I think he’s an ass. He seems nice enough most of the time, but I know he’s not fully invested in you guys, and that sucks. I don’t want that for you.”
“Gimme that,” I reply, grabbing the ice cream and spoon from her. “You think I want that?” I say with a mouthful of ice cream. “I don’t. I know he’s got some stuff he doesn’t want to talk about. But we do have these moments when he lets that wall down. He hasn’t told me everything, but I feel like he will. Eventually.”
“Eventually isn’t good enough,” she returns, grabbing the spoon from me. “I’m serious, Sasha. He’s not any better than any of those other jerks that were still hung up on a girl they went crawling back to. You’re way too good for that. Whatever his issue is, he doesn’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth. I’m sorry, but it is. You’ve got your life in order, you’re chasing your dreams, working at the restaurant. You’ve got more of your life together than most of the people I know. Please, just drop him. Maybe then he’ll see how good he has it with you.”
“Licia, stop already.”
“Sasha, he’s not the only guy out there. Hell, even—”
“I said stop!” I yell. Her blue eyes lock on mine, and I can only hold the look for a second before I stare back down at the carton of ice cream. “I can’t just let him go now. I’m … falling in love with him.”
“Sasha, no.”
“Thanks.”
Sliding closer, she takes the ice cream from my hand and sets it on the coffee table. Putting her arm around me, she draws me closer. “It’s only been a couple of months.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Staying silent, she keeps her arms around me. “Sorry.”
I wipe my eyes before any tears can fall, and let out an unbelieving chuckle. “This is a crappy way to tell you that.”
“We could go get Tara, and TP my ex’s car again. That was fun.”
Another small laugh. “Thanks. Maybe tomorrow,” I answer her, leaning into a hug, wrapping my arms around her.
Chapter 22
Taylor
Speeding along the freeway, I try to only focus on getting to AJ as fast as possible. He’s not hurt or in trouble. He’s scared. I know exactly what he’s feeling, only I had the luxury of being older than him when I felt as frightened as he sounded. And as much as I love Reese, she was his big sister. That’s something I’ll never know what it’s like to feel for him.
When I pull up to their house, in a small, quiet suburb of Santa Monica, I don’t think about all of the time I spent in their front yard growing up. I don’t think about the times me and Reese walked home from school, or the nights sneaking into her room or her sneaking into mine. And I don’t look at the house next door. My parents’ house. My bedroom facing the driveway of AJ’s house, dark and quiet. I lived there for over seventeen years, and in the time I’ve been gone, I think I’ve stepped foot in it less than a dozen times.
Knocking, I can see it’s dark inside, so I’m not sure if AJ finally fell asleep, but I still have to check. A light ticks on and Cynthia answers the door, tugging her bathrobe tighter, covering herself from the cold air of the night.
“Taylor? What’s wrong, honey?”
“Nothing,” I answer, looking past her, but see and hear a quiet house. “Um, AJ called me. He sounded scared. I think he was crying.”
“What?” She opens the door wider, letting me inside. “Come in, come in.”
“Thanks.”
Locking the door behind us, we walk over to AJ’s room. I do my best to fight off any memories I have of being in here. No matter the memories I try to block, my subconscious betrays me, and I look over at Reese’s door. It’s shut.
Quietly, I knock at AJ’s room and then open the door. The light breaking through the darkness of the room, I see a bed with no one in it. Opening it wider, Cynthia trails in behind me, and we see him sitting at the foot of the bed on the ground, a blanket wrapped around himself.
“Hey, buddy,” I whisper over to him. “Everything okay?”
Without a word, he jumps to his feet, his blue pajamas hanging off of him. He wraps his arms tightly around me. His soft whimpers tear at my heart, and I kneel over, embracing him. “Shh, it’s okay.”
“AJ, baby, what’s wrong?” Cynthia kneels next to me, running her hand over his hair.
“I … I had a ni
ghtmare. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I have nightmares all of the time,” I whisper to him. I catch Cynthia’s eyes jerk toward mine before looking back at her son.
“AJ, why didn’t you wake Daddy or me?”
His red eyes meet hers before he looks down and pulls out a worn picture from his pajama pocket. He has a few pictures of Reese up in his room, but the one he’s clutching stabs at my heart. It’s one of the last photos I took with Reese.
We were at the county fair with her parents and him. He asked if I’d take him on a ride, so I did. Reese was not invited. “Boys only,” he told her, and we laughed about it later. After the ride, we all jumped in a photo booth and made funny faces while the pictures snapped. We each got one row of pictures, three images to a row, and he’s kept it on a desk in his room since.
Lifting his gaze to meet mine, he wipes away his tears. “Could you tell me a Reese story? Please?”
“Of course,” I answer and look back at Cynthia.
She nods before heading out.
AJ tugs at his blankets, crawling back in his bed, and I lie down next to him. I’m an only child, but growing up around him, he’s always felt like my little brother, even more so when I lived next door.
“Your jacket’s cold,” he says, pointing at the leather.
“Sorry, buddy.” Shrugging it off, I lean back against his headboard, and he grips his pillow tighter. “So, let’s see. What kind of story do you want to hear?”
“A funny one.” He smiles up at me, before laying his head back on his pillow.
“Hmm, a funny one.” I tap my finger against my lips, trying to recall something funny that happened to Reese or me in the past. Then I remember a situation that involved me, her, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and both of our moms screaming at the top of their lungs after finding out we replaced their eyeliner filling with chocolate syrup when we were eight.
He giggles quietly, sleep setting in as I conclude the story. “Your mom was so mad. I’ll tell you a little secret though,” I whisper and look at the door, knowing Cynthia isn’t listening, but trying to play it up for him. “Your dad gave Reese and me a high five for such a great prank.”
Another soft laugh, and then a yawn. After a couple of minutes, I think he’s fallen asleep when he starts talking. “I’m scared, Taylor.”
“I know, AJ. Being scared is okay. I get scared, too.”
“But … I’m forgetting her. I don’t want to forget her. That’s why I called you. I didn’t have a nightmare.” I look down, and he lets out a sniffle, wiping away tears. “I was thinking about her before I was going to sleep and … I couldn’t remember what she sounded like.”
Another slice to the heart, knowing the exact same feeling.
“It’ll be okay. I’ll tell you what, I’ll have my mom send you some of her recitals to your phone. That way you can always have them to listen to whenever you want. How’s that sound?”
He smiles through his tears, nodding. “Thanks, Taylor. I love you.”
“I love you, too, buddy.”
Taking a deep breath, I do everything I can not to break down and cry along with him. I know I can’t do that. He’s just a little boy. Her baby brother.
I’m not sure when, or for how long, but I must’ve dozed off because a soft shaking of my shoulder awakens me. “Taylor,” someone whispers.
Looking up, I find Cynthia offering me a comforting smile, and then I look at my side. AJ is fast asleep, still holding my arm. Getting up quietly, I grab my jacket from the floor and head out of the room. Taking one last look back, I softly close the door and follow her into the kitchen.
“Coffee for your drive back?” she asks, grabbing the already brewed pot.
“Sure.”
She pours some into her coffee mug, and another memory hits me. It’s a Garfield coffee mug that Reese got her as a present years ago, which was her mom’s favorite comic strip. “Thank you for coming over, Taylor. That was sweet of you.”
“Of course. I’ll always be here for AJ, Cyn. Always.”
“I know.” Leaning against the counter, she smiles down at her steamy drink. Truth be told, I’m not a coffee drinker, but I take a sip of it anyway, hoping the caffeine will help on the drive back.
“How’s everything else?”
“Everything is everything,” I answer aimlessly, staring at my drink. “Same ol’, same ol’.”
“Your mother told me you passed your personal trainer certification a while back.”
“Yeah.” I let out a slightly annoyed chuckle. “A lot of good it’ll do me now with no job.” Glancing up, she waits for me to go on. “I quit. My boss wouldn’t give me the sixteenth off.”
“Oh.” She’s quiet for a moment. “I’m sure Reese would’ve understood if—”
“Never.” My jaw clenches and I look up again, feeling slightly ashamed of how hard I snapped. “Sorry. It’s just … I don’t care what happens in my life, I can’t forget that day. I can’t and I won’t.”
“Taylor, I’m not saying to forget. I know you won’t. None of us will. But … You need to move forward too, Taylor.”
A cynical chuckle escapes. “Yeah. That’d be nice. Maybe in twenty years I might get to that point.”
“Your parents miss you.” I don’t respond, instead opting to give a knowing nod. “Haley and Paula stop by every now and then. Have you kept in touch with them or anyone from school?” Another nonverbal answer from me, only this time I shake my head. “Any new friends out in Irvine? Any girls?”
I swallow the uncomfortable thoughts of Sasha and Micah, scowling down at my cup of coffee.
“Sorry, that’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s not that,” I reply. “I … I mean, there are people. But I can’t … Getting close to people is hard. I had a really good friend for a while, but he … I pushed him away when I think all he was trying to do was help me.”
I don’t realize she’s crossed over to me until she puts her hand on top of mine. “Taylor, you owe it to yourself to still have a life. Reese would want that.”
“I know. But it’s … difficult.” Setting down the cup, I take a deep breath, gathering myself. “How about you guys?”
“Oh, you know. Same ol’, same ol’,” she laughs, repeating my words. “Your mother and I have our shopping days and spa days. I think she really does it for my sake, but it’s nice, you know? It keeps a sense of normalcy in my life. And we still have AJ, so I want to be strong for him.”
Her last words pierce through me, and I wrap my arms around her. “I’m sorry, Cynthia. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Hey, no. No, Taylor.” She pulls back enough to hold my face in her hands, looking up at me.
This lady, who I’ve known my entire life and looked at as a second mom, still being strong for me when she has absolutely no reason to, and I have no right to ask that of her.
“We’ve talked about this, you have nothing to be sorry about. I won’t listen to any more sorries from you, okay?” I nod. “What happened, happened. The only person you have to come to terms with about what happened is yourself. You have to, Taylor. We love you, and she loved you. I know she’d want you to keep living your life. You can’t continue blaming yourself for everything.”
“I’m trying to,” I answer her, wiping my eyes. “It’s just so hard, Cynthia. I didn’t know it was going to be this difficult.”
“And that’s why we’re here. Your parents are here. We’ll always be here for you. You don’t have to face everything you’re feeling alone. That will only tear you apart.”
Chapter 23
Sasha
Stopping outside of Taylor’s apartment, I see his bike parked. I haven’t been to his place in a couple of weeks, and I’m not sure why, but I definitely haven’t been complaining. It’s been nice having him around, getting closer to him, or at least as close as he lets me get.
I texted him the following day after he abruptly left the apartment, a
nd he said everything was fine. Not wanting to be too pushy, I decided not to text or call, hoping he’d reach out first. He hasn’t in two days. So I’ve decided to swing by, unsure if he’d be working or at class since I’m still not sure of his exact schedule. You’d think after being whatever we are for almost two months, I’d know more.
Knocking at the door, I nervously twist a ring on my finger, unsure what exactly I’m nervous about. Showing up unannounced? Wanting to finally put everything on the table and nail down exactly what we are? Just wanting him to be more open with me? All of the above?
“Hey,” Taylor answers, opening the door. “What are you doing here?”
I fight off the frown from his less than welcoming greeting. “I missed you. We haven’t talked in a couple of days, and you kind of just ran out of the door. Is everything okay?”
I wait for him to invite me inside, but he doesn’t. “I told you, everything’s fine.”
“That’s what you said, but it seemed serious. Taylor, you can talk to me.”
“I know I can,” he replies, almost rolling his eyes. “Sasha, it’s nothing. I had something come up, and I had to go.”
“Right.” I nod, staring down at the ground. This is going even worse than I thought it might. Looking back up at him, my eyes catch a cardboard box behind him. I peer around him and see a few more, stacked on top of one another. “Are you … are you moving?”
Taking a step back, he glances over his shoulder, before opening the door a little wider. “Oh, yeah.”
“‘Oh, yeah’? Taylor, that’s kind of a big thing, don’t you think?”
“Calm down, it’s not like I’m moving back home or anything.”
His flippant attitude strikes a chord. A hard line crosses my brow, and I fold my arms over my chest. “Back home? And where exactly is that, Taylor?”
“What?”
“Where’s back home?”
