by J. Benson
I stood with my hands on my hips and looked around the room. The walls were painted a soft shade of green, and the furniture and bedding was done in crisp clean white. The bed was pushed into a corner to make more room, and to accommodate the desk we had dragged up from the basement. There was a widow near the foot of the bed, framed with white curtains. Beside the window and hanging over the bed was a picture of a white flower framed in a black wooden frame. I supposed I should personalize the room if I was going to be occupying it, but I liked everything the way it was.
I had meant it when I said there was nothing I would change about this room. It made me feel free and relaxed, which was what I wanted. The view out my window was of a large elm tree, which provided me with some privacy.
I removed my new books from the white shopping bag and placed them lightly on the bookshelf which took up a full solid wall behind my bed. I was arranging the books alphabetically, when I was interrupted by a knock at the door. I turned to see grandma standing at the doorway, holding a mug of tea.
"Can I come in?" She asked.
"Sure, of course." I smiled warmly at her. "Come in."
She walked carefully into the room and placed the mug on the desk next to my computer. "I brought you some tea; I thought it might help you sleep. I always have trouble sleeping in new places, I don't know if you get that from me too, but just in case, this tea should help. Chamomile, I hope you like it."
"Thank you." I smiled.
"I'm going to take a bath and go to bed. I've got my bridge game tomorrow afternoon, so I'll turn in early. Not too late, you've got school tomorrow." She winked at me, and I smiled. It was so refreshing to be around someone who cared so much for me, and made no secret of it.
I crossed the room in a few short strides and embraced her tightly. "Thanks gran."
"Anytime, Emma." She gently patted my back.
I sat down on the edge of the bed. "Oh, gran. One more thing.... Is it okay if Taylor comes over tomorrow? To work on our project. He lives nearby, but he has a really big family and he said his house will be too noisy and distracting. And I really want to get this assignment done and over with. You know, quick and painless."
"Taylor? Taylor Green?" She asked curiously.
I nodded in disbelief. Was Taylor Green some local celebrity here? Did everyone know him?
"Of course! He's such a wonderful young man! He's so polite and very handsome. I bet he falls head-over-heels for you. He'd be stupid not to!"
I wondered if we were talking about the same Taylor.
I laughed and rolled my eyes. "Right grandma. Like a guy like that would ever fall for me." I wanted to add that no guy would fall for me let alone a guy like Taylor Green. There was no way. He was good-looking and popular; the exact opposite of whom I was. I wouldn't stand a chance even if I wanted to.
"Hey," Grandma insisted. "Any guy would be lucky to have you. You're my prettiest grand-daughter." She wrapped her arm around me and tightly pulled me closer into her body.
I laughed softly. "Grandma, I hate to be the one to point this out, but I'm you're only grand-daughter."
Grandma chuckled. "I know. But you're still my favorite grand-daughter as well." She smiled warmly and left the room. A few minutes later I heard the water running for her bath.
Chapter 8:
Second Day Blues
I slid into my seat for English, just before the second bell rang to signal the start of class. Despite a good night's sleep, I was feeling exhausted and already cursing the school for not having a decent coffee shop or even a Starbucks within a five block radius. I needed caffeine desperately, and the school cafeteria didn't serve anything other than soda. And nine in the morning was too early for a bottle of soda.
Mrs. North stumbled in with a bright orange coffee cup with a picture of Garfield the cat on the front of it. She had a newspaper tucked under her arm, and from my vantage point at the front of the class, I could see that she had only filled in a few spaces in the crossword, and already crossed out some of her answers.
While I plotted ways to sneak into the teacher's lounge and raid their coffee supply, the rest of the class took their seats.
I thought I caught a brief wink from Taylor as he made his way past me to his desk at the back of the room. I rolled my eyes. A wink was such a classy move, especially from someone like him.
Mrs. North loudly cleared her throat at the front of the class. "Well, I've had a few requests, and I would like to go around and talk to each group individually, just to see where you guys are with your projects. A lot of groups have come to me and asked for extensions, but I'm not going to grant anyone an extension until I'm sure how far every group is." She rambled.
I suppressed a yawn. I placed my elbow on my desk and rested my head on my hand. My curls tumbled down around my face, and I wondered briefly if my hair was thick enough to nap behind.
"So I'm going to ask you all to get into your groups now and I'll make my way around and talk to each group individually." Mrs. North announced. She picked up her coffee mug from her desk and took an obnoxiously loud sip.
The class erupted with noise again, as desks shuffled around and students began talking.
I decided I wasn't getting up; if Taylor wanted to talk to me, he could come over to my seat. I smelled his cologne before I could see him and I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. Sure enough, after a moment, Taylor approached. He hoisted himself up onto my desk, and sat on my books.
I rolled my eyes and sighed to convey that I was not impressed. I crossed my legs under the desk. "Do you mind?" I demanded.
"Not at all." He shrugged with a sly grin.
"I could probably talk to the teacher myself, if-" I began.
He immediately interrupted. "Nope, I can help."
"Then what do we have to talk about?" I asked.
"Nothing." He replied with a shrug. "We know what we're doing pretty much. Am I still coming over tonight?"
"If you think it's necessary." I replied evenly.
"Mr. Green." The teacher spoke from across the room. "Desks are for writing, chairs are for sitting." She reminded in a scolding tone.
"Sorry, I must have forgotten. But thank you for the friendly reminder, Mrs. North." He smirked, prompting a reaction from his friends at the back of the room. He moved from my desk and climbed over the empty chair beside me, straddling the chair backward to face me.
"You must be proud of yourself," I began, scribbling the date on an empty page of my notebook, "You have your own dim-witted peanut gallery." I pointed out.
He laughed a little too hard at that comment. "Right, well, it comes in handy to have a bunch of people behind you. Saves me from making an ass of myself."
"Right," I nodded. "Well, whatever helps you believe that when you are in fact making an ass of yourself..." I mused.
Mrs. North walked again to the front of the class, though she had never reached our side of the room. "Okay, so I've talked to a couple of groups so far, and I think it's safe to conclude that most of you are nowhere near being finished?"
This question prompted a murmur from the class. Taylor and I were both silent. He was still slouched forward in his chair and grinning like the Cheshire cat.
"So I think in the effort of having this assignment done well, I'll grant you all another week to prepare. But you'll have to get ready outside of class; I can't afford to give you any more time to work on the project. And this will be the first and only extension you'll receive on this project. So make the extra time count."
The class murmured in response.
Taylor shrugged and turned his attention back to me. "So, what now?"
I sighed, "I think we should get this project done as soon as possible. The quicker we get it done, the better."
"Right." He agreed. "That suits me fine; I guess we still have to read "The Sun Also Rises"."
I nodded slowly, intentionally not telling him that I had already read it.
Mrs. North c
alled the class to return to their original seats so that she could give a lecture, and the class began to noisily shuffle around. Taylor sighed, standing up and straightening his chair. "So I guess I'll see you tonight, partner." He said with a sly grin. He walked away, returning to his seat at the back of the class.
I didn't watch him go; I kept my back to him as he walked away. He didn't need the ego boost of having another person being a witness to his every move.
At lunch, I slipped between the crowds of people gathering around lockers and various groups of people. I walked around the largest group of people and spotted Taylor standing at the heart of it. He was casually leaning against a row of lockers, with his arm slung casually around a girl I recognized from my dreaded gym class.
I hadn't noticed in class, but Taylor was wearing a pair of loose black corduroy pants and a snug white t-shirt. He was wearing a leather jacket over top of his t-shirt. He was wearing his regular black converse shoes. His perfect shaggy blond hair was tousled in different directions, but he still managed to look like he belonged on a movie set instead of a high school in the middle of Oklahoma. I hated him for being so irresistibly gorgeous.
Caught slightly off guard by my distraction, I nearly walked past my locker entirely. I sighed irritably, and fumbled with my lock; it took me two tries to get it right.
I stole a small glance over my shoulder at Taylor. He was busy talking with the large group of people around him. They all laughed in unison, but I had missed what was said. The blonde was hanging all over him like some ditsy imbecile.
I sighed and shuffled my books around, collecting the binders I would need for my next class and a text book for math. I found my lunch, which consisted of a sandwich, a few raw vegetables, an apple, and a yogurt, a couple of my grandmother’s home-made cookies— which she had insisted I bring— and a bottle of orange juice. It was more than I usually ate at lunch time, but Grandma insisted I didn't eat enough. I was planning on taking my lunch to my car and eating there, away from the prying eyes of the other students.
I propped the books under my arm and closed my locker tightly, I checked the lock and turned to head off toward my next class just as I felt a strong arm around me, pushing me back toward my locker. I felt my body collide with a harder body, and a familiar scent of faint cologne wafted around me. It took me an extra minute to realize what had happened.
"What the hell?" I demanded immediately, but when I looked up to see Taylor's blue eyes glistening from beneath a curtain of blond layers, I was no longer upset. I was simply confused.
I followed his gaze in time to see a handful of high school football players in full uniform as they came barreling down the hall, grunting some kind of cheer like over-muscled zombies. Had he not shoved me out of the way, I could have easily been trampled by a set of twenty or so footballers in full gear. And each member of the team looked as though they weighed three times as much as I did.
I looked up at Taylor in confusion after they passed. The people in the hall who had moved aside to let them past refilled the halls and resumed their conversation. No one seemed to notice that Taylor had just saved me from both public humiliation and a complete trampling.
"Uhh, thank you." I muttered, still awkwardly conscious of his hand on my hip. I tucked my hair behind my ear and chewed at my lips.
"I was coming over anyway; I wanted to talk to you. Are we still on for tonight?" He asked, brushing off the fact that he had just saved my life.
I sighed and pushed his hand away from my side, "Don't say it like that."
Taylor's face contorted into a look of confusion. "What did I say? How did I say it?"
"Don't say it like that; don't make it sound like a date." I clarified.
"Would that be such a bad thing?" He seemed almost hurt. "I mean, I'm sure there are worse things than going on a date with me."
"Right, like your girlfriend would be so understanding if rumors got out that you were on a date with me." I tried for a jab below the belt, hoping it would knock him down a few pegs. Surely it couldn't hurt; he was so sure of himself I was sure his head would swell to the size of the hallway if it got any bigger.
"She is not my girlfriend." He said defensively as he pushed his thumb over his shoulder in her direction. "She's a friend... who's a girl. Frankly, I think she has a bit of a crush on me, but really who doesn't?" He grinned.
I rolled my eyes, and turned to walk away from him. I'd heard enough, and I wasn't about to listen to any more of his egotistical preening.
"Wait!" He grabbed my hand lightly. "I'm serious, am I still coming over tonight?"
I pulled my hand free, but not before I could feel how soft and warm his hand was as it held mine.
"I... I guess so." I sighed, "What time?"
"Well, that's what I'm wondering. What time would be good for you? When do you eat dinner?" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly; his personality was doing a complete flip in the opposite direction. He was like an awkward school boy.
"I ummm..." I looked around, trying to think of a reasonable time. I was interrupted immediately.
"School dance next Friday!" A peppy young blonde—in a skirt about two inches too short—came flouncing up to us. She handed me a sheet of paper, and one to Taylor.
He smiled politely, thanked her, and watched her leave in a way that wasn't subtle at all. He folded the sheet of orange paper sloppily
I rolled my eyes, and crumpled the invitation in my hands.
"Hey, whoa, you're not going to keep that?" He asked, stuffing his own copy into the front pocket of leather jacket.
"Are you kidding? High school dances aren't my thing. They are totally lame. There are a million other things I'd rather be doing then spending my Friday night at this pathetic excuse for a school." I replied, and tossed the crumpled ball into a nearby trash can.
"Ah, so there's no secret boyfriend you're going to invite then? No big biker dude with tattoos and a pony-tail that you're dying to show off?" He teased. "I mean, I was actually looking forward to meeting this guy. I mean, any guy who can put up with you must be some serious bad ass."
This comment actually brought a smile to my lips.
"Ha!" He cried suddenly, "I knew you could smile without cracking your face."
I rolled my eyes and my smile quickly faded. "Seven," I said, forcing the boredom and irritation back into my voice.
"What?" He asked in confusion.
"Come by around seven." I replied and walked away, feeling myself blush slightly.
I walked out to my car and climbed into the driver's seat. Through the windshield, I could see that the football team had made it out to the field and were running laps in their full gear. I took a bite of my apple first and opened my book on the steering wheel to read for the remainder of the lunch break.
Chapter 9:
Unwelcome Diagnosis
I drove home at the end of another long day at school. I had full intentions of taking a long nap after school, but instead I found myself going through the books I had checked out at the school library. I had managed to find some books on contemporary female writers, and our poet was featured in the books. I read each book and kept notes carefully so I would be prepared for when Taylor arrived.
I flipped through my newly acquired copy of Edna St. Vincent Millay's sonnets just to pass the time.
Grandma made dinner and I helped clean up, while impatiently looking at the clock and hoping the time would go by faster. I wanted Taylor to show up at the house so we could get our project done and over with. I wanted Taylor to get here so he could leave again and hopefully our project would be finished.
I opened the door for Taylor just as the clock struck seven on the dot. He was on time, perfectly. He stood at the doorstep in a pair of fitted jeans and a vintage band t-shirt. His hair looked like he had run the entire distance between the houses; as it was standing up in several different directions. But on him, it looked amazing. He was just as handsome as ever. I silently loathed mysel
f for noticing.
He smiled crookedly at me. "Hey, what's up?"
"Hi." I smiled. I was suddenly conscious of the fact that I had pulled my hair into a sloppy pony-tail. I was also wearing jeans and a t-shirt but I was sure I didn't look anywhere near as good as he did. "Come in."
I watched and waited as he kicked off his shoes and placed them neatly inside the front door, being extra cautious to keep them on the mat and not get dirt on my grandmother's pristine tiled floor. Clearly, he had been here before.
"Mrs. Hatfield!" He crowed, seeing my grandmother sitting in her favorite chair in the living room. "You're looking lovely as always!" He crossed the room and embraced her lightly; an act I was sure he created simply to spite me. It was just typical of him. He walked in and was drooling charm all over any female in the room, including my seventy-year-old grandmother.
"Taylor! You must have grown another two feet this summer!" My grandmother smiled over her needle-point.
He chuckled. "Well, you know. I do eat like a horse."
"Oh I know. You and your brothers used to eat an entire batch of chocolate chip cookies every time you came over to cut my grass." She teased happily. "How are your brothers? And the rest of your family?" Grandma asked politely.
"They're all doing great." He replied. "My youngest sister is walking and talking now."
"Oh, how precious!" Grandma gushed. "The last time I saw her I could hold her in one hand."
I cleared my throat, almost sorry to break up their lovely chat. "We should get this project over with."
Taylor smiled politely. "Right, I'll come by and talk to you later, alright?" He lightly dropped his hand onto my grandmother's shoulder in a friendly gesture. Clearly I had underestimated how friendly Taylor and my grandmother actually were.
"Okay, good luck with your project kids. Work hard, I'm sure you'll do amazing on it." My grandmother smiled and set back to work pushing a needle and thread through some thin canvas. "Have fun, and if you need anything, feel free to ask." She replied.