Dad waved the packet around. “I wanted to wait for you to come home to celebrate, but I couldn’t—wait, those aren’t happy tears. Taylor, what’s wrong?”
Without answering him, I ran right into his arms and burrowed my face into his shoulder. All I could do was hold him tighter as the tears poured out.
27
-Evan-
After I dropped Lauren off, I sat on the beach for hours to clear my head, but it didn’t work. For once in my life, not even the water could make me forget my problems. I was still pissed at Taylor, but I wanted to see her. To talk to her. My fingers ached—literally ached—to feel hers. Time dragged on until each second was like an hour, each hour was like a day, and—well, you get the point. And all because I missed Taylor. Really missed her. Like I was seconds away from writing sonnets about her. Yeah, I don’t know what the hell she did to me. God, I should have been annoyed at her for screwing up my life if I didn’t love her so much.
It was way after dinnertime when I finally got home. Mom attacked me as soon as I came through the door. Her hands were covered with flour. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for ages.”
“Sorry, I had it turned off.” So I wouldn’t be tempted to call Taylor. I grabbed an oatmeal cookie from the counter. “What’s wrong?”
“Taylor was here.”
The cookie crumbled in my fist as I stared at her. “Why? When?”
“She was looking for you earlier. Said she needed to talk to you about something.” With a sigh, she nodded at something on the counter. “And she wanted to give you back your necklace.”
“My neck—” On top of a pile of magazines, I spotted the silver chain nestled around the twisted coin. No. I grabbed it from the counter, not wanting to believe that this was really my necklace. That she actually gave it back to me. That it was all really over. “Shit. I screwed everything up with her.”
My fist hit the granite countertop in frustration. Maybe if I had just let her talk. Maybe I could have been able to change her mind. I bet stupid Brian would have listened to her. Stupid, tall Brian who’s always there for her.
God, I hated that dude.
Mom’s hand curved around my arm, leaving a dusty flour print on my forearm. “Then fix it with her. Go tell her you’re sorry for whatever you did.”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. She picked Brian. She’s going to be with him now.”
“Are you sure? Because she looked really sad when I told her that you were moving in with your dad.”
My head snapped up to look at her. “You told her what?”
Her fingers laced together and white dust fell onto the tile floor. “Yeah … it was an accident. I thought you already told her about it yourself!”
I meant to. I was going to tell Taylor all about Dad and my plans and the fact that I actually had plans because of her. And that my plans for the future now included her. But when she told me about kissing Brian, everything just disappeared. I didn’t know what to do.
I was kind of hurt that she didn’t stay to talk to me. To tell me she was proud of me. To break up with me in person. But what did I expect? She tried, but I was the one who left first.
Maybe I shouldn’t have run away. I should have just stayed to talk to her. That would have been the responsible thing to do. At least then she could have given me back the necklace, and we could have said goodbye properly. And I could have hugged her one more time.
Or I could have gone to Brian’s house and kicked his ass. Yeah, that’s what I should have done.
Still not too late.
* * *
Later that night as I laid on my bed, I stared at the stars on my ceiling. My hand clenched the necklace so tightly that the edge of the coin cut into my palm. I didn’t care about the pain in my hand. I didn’t even care when Brandon came into my room earlier to gleefully drop off a calendar marking off the days until graduation, when I would move out.
There was another knock, and Mom poked her head in for the tenth time in the past hour. “You have company.”
I shot upright but scowled at the sight of Aaron instead of Taylor at the door. “Oh, hi.”
Instead of leaving, Mom just lingered at the doorway while Aaron sat down on the desk chair. It squeaked a little under his weight. “Your mom told me everything. Look, we’re all used to you making an ass of yourself, because that’s not really anything new. Usually, it’s kind of fun to watch. But this moping is just sad.”
Mom cleared her throat. “Honey, what Aaron is trying to say is that we’re just worried about you.”
“Yeah, worried.”
“Well, I’m fine. And I’m not moping. I just don’t feel like doing anything.” I flopped on my back and went back to counting the stars.
He rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re the mayor of Mopetown. And for no reason. Taylor’s not with Brian.”
“How would you know?”
The chair squeaked even more. “Carly told me. I called her to ask.”
I rolled on my side to stare at him. “What else did she say?”
“Carly? She just told me that Taylor is definitely not with Brian and uh…” He coughed and glanced at Mom. “Basically, she told me to tell you to man up and get Taylor back before it’s too late. Or at least that’s the PG version of what she said.”
A spark of energy hit me, and I sat up. So … she wasn’t with Brian. Yet. “Before it’s too late. Does Carly mean before she starts dating Brian?”
“Actually I don’t think she intends to date him. Ever,” Mom spoke up from the doorway.
“What do you mean?”
Her wide gray eyes were the picture of innocence. Fake innocence. “I’m not sure, but I think I heard that Brian turned down that scholarship to NYU. Now, I’m not positive, but wouldn’t it make sense for him to go to NYU if they were going to date later on?”
“Where did you hear that from?”
“Just … around.”
“But…” I stared down at the necklace in my hands. I didn’t doubt Mom’s sources—whoever they were—for a second. But if Taylor wasn’t going to be with Brian, then why was she giving me back my necklace? Why didn’t she stay to talk to me? What was she thinking?
Unless … she thought she was doing this for me.
Everything clicked into place. I saw everything through her logical, practical eyes. This was all for me. She probably thought she was being noble by stepping back. Letting me do whatever I wanted to do without being a burden. That noble idiot. I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her. Have this chance. I needed her by my side, cheering me on and nagging me to be better.
The problem was, how would I change her mind? “What should I do now?”
With an irritated sigh, Mom marched over to sit on the edge of the bed. “You do whatever you have to and get her back! Why would you want to lose a girl who’s so sweet, smart, beautiful, polite—”
“Stubborn, rude, nagging, and snarky,” I finished.
Aaron snorted. “You two are so perfect for each other.”
Mom had a smug grin plastered on her face. “You love her, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” There was no denying it. I loved her smile. I loved her sitting next to me, fidgeting with Rudy’s stereo buttons. Heck, I even loved her complaining to me about my schoolwork. It was a Friday, and all my homework was finished because doing it made me feel closer to her.
And to think she was worried about her reputation before. My reputation was shot to hell because of her. See what I meant about Taylor screwing up my life?
Mom patted the top of my head like I was a kid again. “You’re not too bad, either. You have my genes, so you’re pretty handsome. And you’re smart, even if you don’t like to show it. Really lazy, though. Don’t really think with your head much. Impulsive. And stubborn. God, you remember when you broke your arm on the jungle gym when you were eight? Or the second time two months later, because you wanted to show me your arm was fine when the doctor tol
d you it wasn’t?”
“Uh, are these insults supposed to help me feel better?”
She shook her head. “What I’m trying to say is that you’re stubborn. And it was obvious earlier that she loves you, too. I could see it written all over her face. Now go get her back.”
Mom was right. “So should I go over to her house? Get her flowers? Candy?” Pizza and blue cotton candy would probably be better.
Aaron cleared his throat. “Carly said you need to bring your A game. I mean, you really need to romance the crap out of her.”
I snorted. Yeah, that sounded like her. “Then did she have something in mind?”
“Dunno. Something really big and grand to show her that you’re not afraid of what anyone else thinks as long as she’s with you. But still something that’s personal and sweet so that she knows that you’re thinking of her. How about skywriting over the school! Or a picnic in a hot-air balloon!”
“Taylor gets scared when we’re on a bridge. I’m pretty sure she would die before getting in a hot-air balloon. A dead girlfriend really isn’t what I’m aiming for right now.” I felt a little dazed. I had no idea what to do. Big and grand but personal and sweet? Dude, what was I supposed to do with that?
His face fell, and he spun around in my chair. “Okay, maybe not that, then.”
Mom leaned back on her elbows. “You know, when your dad asked me out, he took me to this fair in the next town. Or tried to. His truck broke down halfway there, and it started raining when he was fixing it, so we were both soaking wet. He had a blanket in the back, and—”
Oh god. I leaped to my feet. My arms crossed in an X in front of my face to try to make her stop. “Please don’t finish that sentence.” I didn’t want to think about my parents in the back of any truck. I paced over to my desk. My fist lightly smacked against the back of the chair as I turned toward Aaron. “I’m surprised you had the guts to call Carly in the first place. Aren’t you scared of her?”
Aaron snorted again. “Hell no. I’m on the football team. She’s barely half my weight and—and I actually didn’t call her. I texted her.”
“Yeah, you sound really tough now.” I held the necklace up in front of my face and watched it spin around. It caught the light and reflected like a real star. “Thanks, man. You, too, Mom. I really appreciate your help.”
Mom beamed and reached out to give Aaron a high five. “Anything you need, sweetie. We’re here for you.”
He nodded. “You know we got your back.”
28
{Taylor}
“So did you and Evan really break up?”
Kimmy poked her head in my room, looking even tinier than usual in an oversize purple sweater. Her dark hair stuck out of the side of her ponytail, making her head look oddly shaped. She’d done her own hair this morning. At least she got an A for effort. I turned away from the bookcase, dropped the dust rag on the ground, and sat on the bed. “What are you doing? I thought you went to the store with Mom.”
“She had too many errands to run, so I told her I’ll just stay at home with you.” Without an invitation, she came into my room and leaped on my bed, making me bounce a few times.
I didn’t mind. I was happy for her company. Any company, really. I had talked to Carly a few times over the weekend, but she was always busy with something. And she said she could only take my moping in small doses. She promised to be back to lend a sympathetic ear tomorrow at school, but not a day sooner.
When Kimmy leaned her head toward me, I tugged at the pink scrunchie on her head and combed my fingers through her curly locks. Separating her hair in three sections, I braided it, concentrating on keeping each section even.
She fiddled with the strands on my quilt. “So did you? Mom told Dad that you did, but I didn’t believe her.”
My hands paused at the nape of her neck. “Yeah. I did.”
“Oh.”
The room got quiet as she rocked back and forth on the bed, waiting for me to finish. I took my time tucking in each of the strands that tried to escape until the braid was perfectly trailing down the center of her back. I finished the braid and tied off the end.
She scratched the bottom of her chin with the end of her braid. “Was it his fault?”
“No, not really. It was—we couldn’t—” How was I supposed to explain our relationship to a nine-year-old? Heck, I didn’t understand why we couldn’t be together. I mean, I knew the reasons, but I couldn’t help thinking they were stupid now. I was stupid. “It’s complicated.”
“Did you want to break up?”
“No,” I admitted, unable to lie to her.
Her lips puckered into a pout. “Then it has to be his fault.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic. “Maybe.”
She leaned back against my chest and let me hug her. “Taylor?”
“Yeah?”
“I miss him. He was nice. I don’t think any other guys would let me put makeup on them.”
I laid my chin on the top of her soft head and closed my eyes. “I miss him, too.”
After Kimmy left to watch TV, I finished rearranging my bookcase by genre and favorite authors and dove into the closet next. I’d already divided the clothes that I would bring to college, the ones I’d leave behind, and the ones I’d give to charity, but there was no harm in double-checking. Maybe there was something I was missing. Something I’d need in the future.
And that’s why I was partially buried in T-shirts and sweaters when Dad came in with a plateful of cookies. “Do you want to take a break for a minute?”
“Sure.” I carefully maneuvered around the piles and came over to sit with him on the bed. “Do you have—” Without waiting for me to finish, he slipped two extra plates from beneath the plate of cookies and handed one to me with a grin. “Thanks, Dad.”
“No problem. Wouldn’t want any crumbs to fall on your immaculate carpet, now would we?” he asked, leaning backward against my pillow. “Who taught you to be so clean?”
I stifled a laugh. He was such a dork sometimes. “That would be you. Remember? As soon as you married Mom, you taught me that organization and structured plans were the key to happiness.”
“Yeah, I forget how brilliant I am sometimes.”
I laughed and was about to pop the cookie into my mouth when I realized that it was homemade. “Uh, where did this come from? Did Mom bake?” I asked, sniffing the cookie. It looked safe enough. And it was my favorite—oatmeal chocolate chip.
Dad grabbed one for himself and set it on his plate. “Good god, no. Do you hear the smoke detectors buzzing? I think someone gave a whole basketful to your mom. She didn’t tell me who, though.”
With a sigh of relief, I took a huge bite. It was delicious. Sweet and chewy. Within a minute, I had inhaled two more. I swear, I didn’t even need to chew. I just blinked, and they were gone.
Chocolate really is the key to happiness. I was feeling better already, although the sugar crash would probably get me later. The cookies did make me feel kind of wistful. They reminded of the desserts Evan’s mom used to make for me. And of course, that made me think of Evan, and bam! We were right back where we started.
Dad had a major sweet tooth, so I was surprised that he only ate two of the cookies. He dusted his hands over the plate before setting it aside on my nightstand. “So, are you ready to leave the ol’ nest?”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Graduation’s not for a while, Dad. And I’m not moving until the end of July. Believe me, there’s plenty of time.”
“It’s one month, three weeks, and two days until graduation. I have a feeling time is going to fly by.” Dad jabbed his thumb at the overflowing chaos on the floor. “Why are you packing so early if there’s still ‘plenty of time’? Are you that anxious to leave?”
“No, of course not. I just…” I shrugged. “I just didn’t have anything else to do today.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Is it because of that Evan boy?”
I shoved another co
okie in my mouth to delay answering him. If I lied and told Dad no, he’d just interrogate me some more and find out the truth. But the thought of talking to him about boy problems made me want to throw up all the cookies I’d just eaten. This was one time where having a lawyer for a dad sucked.
Finally, I just nodded and kept my gaze down.
“I can’t say that I’m sad that you two broke up. I mean, he seemed all right at first. But that was before you two—I’m not saying that you—hopefully you didn’t. It’s just that I know boys are into, hmmm…”
Oh god. Now I was considering deliberately throwing up to distract him. I’d never seen him stumble over his words so much. Not even when he accidentally ran over some lady’s dog and ended up having to pay for the cremation.
Dad let out a sigh. “You’re my little girl. To be honest, I don’t think I want you dating anyone. Ever. At least, not while I’m still alive. Or while I can still see.”
“Well, that’s not really a problem now…”
“But I don’t want you to be sad, either.” He tugged on a strand of my hair. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen up. Organization and structured plans aren’t the key to happiness and success. It might make life easier if things were perfect all the time, but they won’t be. You can’t plan everything. Things happen. And that’s okay. You shouldn’t do something just because it’s easy and neat. Because sometimes messy isn’t that bad.”
My eyes widened, and I gaped at him. “Can you say that again? I think I need to record that as evidence that you’ve gone crazy.” I dug out my phone and held it up.
“No way, I already told you I’m only saying it once.” He gathered up the plates and headed toward the door. “Besides, you know that in order to use the recorded conversation as evidence, both parties would have to consent, and I already said I wouldn’t. Therefore, this conversation would be inadmissible in court.”
I smiled sweetly up at him. “And you know that rule only pertains to certain states. And a good lawyer could always find a precedent in the conversation and obtain it as evidence if needed.”
The Way to Game the Walk of Shame Page 22
