by J. Benson
Hardly waiting for Taylor to follow me, I made my way slowly up the stairs towards my bedroom. I sat down at my desk and started up my laptop. Taylor stood in the doorway and looked around for a moment before taking a few steps inside the room.
"Your room is so... neat." Taylor observed, standing in the middle of my bedroom with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans.
"I like to keep things in place, so what?" I demanded defensively. I moved to sit on the edge of my bed so he could take the desk chair. The notion of him sitting on my bed seemed strange to me.
"You don't have any posters or pictures of friends or family... there's no... personality here." He continued. He walked to the bookshelf and glanced at the books I had just purchased the day before. I felt oddly self-conscious with the way he was scrutinizing my room.
"I have plenty of personality, thank you." I seethed. He was already annoying me, and his wandering around my room was making me nervous.
"Yes, I can see that." He muttered, and reached out to pick up something from the bookshelf. "What's this?" He held a dried white rose in the palm of his hand.
I could see it was starting to crumble at his touch, and sprang from my bed to rescue it. "It's nothing. Just a dried flower." I took it from his hands and carefully placed it back on the bookshelf before it disintegrated into nothing.
It was a rose that had once sat in the middle of the arrangement on top of my father's casket. I had taken it from the funeral when no one was looking, and it dried in my pocket on the buses and trains I took to reach Oklahoma. Aside from some hazy and faded memories, it was the only thing here I had to remind me of him.
"Was it a gift? Maybe from a boyfriend back in New York?" He asked obliviously.
"No, no boyfriend." I replied distractedly, still admiring the flower. My voice was soft as I replied, "It's just an old memory." I couldn't help but feel that like the rose, my memories of my father were also fading and crumbling as they decayed and died.
"Ah," He replied. "You seem to have plenty of those." He sat down and propped his feet up on my desk, folding his arms behind his head.
He was breathtakingly gorgeous and I hated him for it. He slicked his hair back, pushing the blond tendrils out of his eyes. I pushed his feet off the desk. "So what? You think you know me now?"
"I think I know you well enough." He replied smugly.
"Oh really? Enlighten me." I challenged. "Astound me with your incredible perception of my personal life because I for one am just dying to know what you have to say about me." I let the sarcasm coat my words thickly.
"Okay." He sat forward in the chair and balanced his elbows on his thighs. He tented his fingers between his knees. "You left New York suddenly, something happened. I don't know what. But you needed to escape and start over so you left everything there. You came here, because it's so different from what you're used to."
I folded my arms over my chest. "Are you finished?" I asked, impatiently.
"No." He smiled. "You're acting like a bitch and trying to push people away so they don't get close enough to know the real you. You're afraid to let anyone in because you don't want history to repeat itself; you don't want to end up broken-hearted again. You keep everything in order because you crave it. You need to order your surroundings because you can't order the emotions and the thoughts inside your own head right now. You're trying to create some kind of stability in your life because without it you would be completely and utterly lost."
I hated him. He was dead on.
"But there's one more thing." He continued.
"And what would that be?" I demanded icily.
He grinned, "You haven't been able to push me away." He stood suddenly and crossed the room and with a jump sent himself sprawling across my bed with his arms tucked beneath his head. His feet hung over the edge of my bed.
I felt as though I needed to be as far away from him as possible, so I stood and crossed the room, folding myself onto the desk chair, desperate to change the subject to anything other than my past. "So what are your ideas for this project? Anything new?" I asked.
Before Taylor could say anything, I interrupted. "I took out some books from the library." I stood up and retrieved the stack of books from the rocking chair in the corner. "I couldn't find any books specifically on our poet, but I found some books that have little blurbs about her. That takes care of the biographical aspect of our project." I mused, dropping the stack of books into his outstretched hands.
"Great." Taylor mused. "I can work on doing the bibliographic citations for these. I mean, I can't screw that up, right?" He grinned at me.
"I don't know, it's pretty tough." I mused. "We need all the marks we can get."
Taylor smirked. "Alright then, smarty-pants. How do you want to handle the presentation part? We need something that gets our point across, but keeps the idiots at the back of the class from falling asleep."
I raised one eyebrow. "Yes, well, those idiots just so happen to be your friends, so you tell me what's going to keep them awake." I challenged, smugly crossing my arms over my chest.
"Well," He sat up on my bed, balancing the books on his knee. "By the looks of that computer, maybe we can pull together a Power Point Project." He suggested. "Nothing too flashy. Just something that'll keep my idiot friends from falling asleep." He added with a grin.
I pursed my lips together, impressed. "That's great. Are any of the other students in the class doing that?"
"I don't think so... not that I've heard. It would be brilliant. We would get major points for creativity, and it would be a good visual aide."
I turned suddenly to my computer. "I've never used Power Point before; can you walk me through it?" I asked.
"Yeah." He pushed himself to his feet and stood behind me. I was trying to maneuver the mouse pointer through the start menu, when Taylor leaned over me. "There. Try that."
I clicked on the icon and the program opened.
"Okay," I sighed. "How do I do this?"
Taylor leaned over me, "Well, try going to format and then slide design, and you can change the background colors and stuff."
"Okay." I agreed, slightly conscious of the way he was leaning over me. "Which color?"
"You choose." I saw him smile in the reflection of the computer screen. "I'm terrible with design and stuff."
We worked late into the evening, until I heard my grandmother go to bed. She didn't say anything about us working so late, and didn't ask Taylor to leave at a certain time. Taylor finally felt the need to disappear when I couldn't stop yawning.
"I should go," He said softly.
"Okay," I nodded. "I'll walk you out."
"You don't have to; I think I can find my way..." He suggested.
I smiled. "I don't mind."
I stood and followed him toward the door. He slipped on his shoes and I sat down on the stairs to watch him. He stood with a sigh, and lifted his arms high over his head. His sinewy muscles stretched slowly, revealing a thin line of skin beneath the bottom hem of his t-shirt.
"Well, I think it was a pretty productive night." He smiled. "We're almost done."
"Yeah, yeah. I think so." I agreed. "I think we're doing really well too. We have to get a good mark; I doubt the other morons in the class have worked as hard as we have."
He smiled. "You really are tired, aren't you?"
"You can tell?" I asked softly, smiling lightly.
"Yeah, you're actually being nice to me, for a change." He smirked. "It's weird."
I laughed dryly. "Sorry. I know, I'm a bitch sometimes. I just... have issues, I guess."
"Everybody has issues." He shrugged.
"Not like mine." I replied quietly.
"Yeah? Maybe some time you can tell me about those issues. We can compare notes." He shrugged.
I sighed, leaning my head against the newel post. "I doubt it. You definitely don't want to hear any of my issues. I happen to have the absolute most depressing life on the planet." I assure
d.
"Yeah? Do you know that for a fact?" He challenged.
I nodded. "Yeah. I have a trophy and everything. It has my name on it." I smiled.
He chuckled. "Well, I know you barely know me and everything, but if you ever want to talk, I'm a pretty good listener." He shrugged and smirked. "And I'm such good friends with your grandmother, we're practically family."
"Thanks, but I doubt I'll be requiring your services." I mused. "Besides, I've managed this far, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to completely fall apart." I pushed myself up onto my feet and leaned against the railing.
"Alright, well, it's late. I'd better get out of here. I'm sure my parents are waiting up for me." He mused with a shrug.
I nodded, chewing at the corner of my mouth.
"We'll have to get together and finish the assignment," He mused. "Let me know when is good for you. I'll see you in class tomorrow."
I nodded. "Yeah, see you tomorrow."
He opened the front door and waved as he pulled it closed behind him. I stepped down the last few steps and crossed the entry way to the front door. I pushed on the door to ensure it was closed before I clicked the handle lock and locked the deadbolt. I turned around and leaned back against the door with a heavy and defeated sigh.
I suddenly hated myself. I was starting to like him. In fact, I was almost completely sure that the way I was feeling was a little more than just liking him. I was starting to fall for him. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to push away the stomach churning disgust and self-loathing.
I stood there for several moments with my eyes squeezed shut tightly. I heard his car pull from the driveway, and I waited several minutes longer before I finally forced myself to go upstairs and into my room. I changed into my pajamas and climbed into bed. I turned off the lights and lay awake in bed for hours.
Chapter 10:
Invitations
I stood at my locker first thing in the morning and shuffled my books around. I removed one of the books I had recently purchased and slid down my locker to sit on the floor. I opened my book to read. It was a little cold out, and I wasn't looking forward to sitting in my car and freezing while I waited for school to start. Instead I decided to sit in front of my locker to read. I was entirely lost in my book.
I was halfway through the third page when I noticed a shadow cast over my page. I looked up in alarm to see Taylor standing over me.
"Hey," He smiled down at me.
"Um, hi." I replied, closing my book slowly and reluctantly.
"What are you reading?" He asked, leaning against the lockers. He slid down the lockers to sit in a position that mimicked mine. I lifted my book from my lap and moved it to the floor on the other side of my body; safe out of his line of sight.
"Nothing." I replied. "Can I help you with something?"
He grinned at me and pretended to shiver. He dramatically rubbed his arms as if to warm himself. "Brr, it's cold in here. Someone is back to their regular icy exterior."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I haven't even started yet."
Taylor chuckled. But instead of leaving, he easily plopped down on the floor next to me and sat cross-legged just inches away.
I drew in a sharp breath, "I'm trying to read, here. Could you please make your point? My book is just getting good." I allowed the irritation to leak into my voice a little more than usual.
"Alright, fine. I'll cut to the chase." He cleared his throat. "I've got a friend, who thinks you're cute. He's going to ask you to the dance on Friday."
I groaned internally. I did not need this. "He doesn't have the balls to ask me himself?" I rolled my eyes.
"Oh, he is going to ask you himself." Taylor chuckled. "I just thought you could use a little warning."
"Thanks. I'll go easy on him when I tell him to go to hell." I replied, picking up my book and placing it back into my lap. I opened it to the last page I was on and pretended to immediately ignore Taylor.
Taylor laughed. "Okay, that will work."
"You could tell him not to bother." I tested, "It would save a lot of effort on my part. It would be a lot easier for me if I didn't have to turn him down."
"I did, actually." He replied with a grin. "I told him you thought school dances were lame and that you weren't interested. I even told him you had a boyfriend back in New York, a big guy with lots of tattoos. But he didn't really believe me... and... Well, frankly, I think he could use the opportunity to be taken down a few pegs," He leaned toward me and whispered "He thinks he's God's gift to women."
"Right. So there is more than one of them at this school? Do you all hang out together?"
Taylor didn't get the hint. "He's planning on asking you to the dance today sometime. I thought you might like the heads up. I take it you're going to turn him down, then."
"What do you think?" I demanded sarcastically.
He laughed, "Right. And what exactly is your strong aversion to high school dances again?"
"I don't see the point. Being felt up by horny teenage boys desperate to get laid is not my idea of a fun Friday night." I pushed myself up to my feet and opened my locker. I shoved my book inside. Clearly I wasn't about to get much reading done.
"Right, and what if it's a guy who genuinely likes you? What if you were actually going to have a good time?" He asked, pushing himself up onto his own feet. He stood next to me, leaning against the lockers.
I rolled my eyes. "That would never happen." I grabbed my books for my next class and tucked them under my arm.
"What would never happen? Finding a guy that actually likes you? Or actually having a good time?" He asked, folding his arms casually in front of him.
"Either one of them." I replied with a shrug.
"It could happen..." He offered.
"Yeah, and pigs could fly and a purple money could jump out of my ass." I bit sarcastically.
Taylor sighed and opened my locker door wider. He peered inside. "Hey, you don't have any pictures in here either."
I slammed my locker door and clicked the lock into place. "I don't feel the need. I'm only here for another nine months." With that said, I walked quickly toward my next class. I hadn't even been asked out yet and I already felt embarrassed and humiliated. I had to think of something to say; some witty and polite way to turn down whichever one of Taylor's friends was going to ask me out.
I tried to push the thought from my mind and concentrate. I took careful notes in English class, but took a minute or two during the lecture to glance around the room and take note of Taylor's friends.
Taylor was slouched back casually in his seat at the back of the room, hardly paying attention to the teacher. When he caught my eye, he smirked at me and winked. But there was no indication of which of his friends was going to ask me out. Or at least attempt to ask me out. I just hoped that whoever it was, they weren't asking me out as a dare or some hideously cruel trick on the new girl at school.
I shut my books at the sound of the bell and set off to my next class. I wasn't entirely eager to get to Gym class, and the class itself didn't disappoint. We were playing basketball, but I couldn't concentrate. My conversation with Taylor still sat fresh in my mind. I couldn't help but wonder which of his bone-head friends were going to ask me out. And that made me wonder if I was making the right decision turning them down without giving them a chance.
At lunch, I ate in my car again. It seemed like the logical place to avoid Taylor and his friends. Inside the school I felt like a sitting duck, waiting for someone to pick me off. It felt like someone was out to get me, but since I didn't know who that person was or what they looked like, I couldn't properly hide. Sitting in my car felt like a safe place.
My afternoon classes seemed to drag on unbearably. There was a pop quiz in math class, which was difficult, but I felt as though I had at least passed it. For a few brief moments, I forgot about all of the other drama in my life and focused solely on passing the quiz.
At the end of the day, I was exhausted. I walked slowly
from my math class, searching through my messenger bag for a package of gum I was sure I had left in there.
"Emma!" I heard a voice come from behind me shortly after I had left the math hallway.
I half turned to see a boy that I vaguely recognized from one of my classes. For the life of me, I couldn't remember his name.
"Err... hi." I replied. I searched my brain for his name, but came up blank. I chose the name I thought was closest to his actual name. "Umm.... You're... Mike, right?" I asked.
"Matt." He quickly corrected, his stride matching mine. "We have math together."
"Right, right. I remember." I replied distractedly. I found the package of gum and popped a piece into my mouth, chewing slowly.
"Uh, listen, I don't know if you know or not, but next Friday... there's a school dance..." He began, shifting awkwardly.
"I'm aware of that..." I murmured slowly, trying to choose the right words.
I wasn't sure if I was supposed to let on that Taylor had mentioned to me about one of his friends asking me out or if I was supposed to seem surprised. I was completely unfamiliar with how these social interactions worked. I had no idea what to do.
"Uh, right... I was wondering if you... uhhh..." He paused to nervously and loudly pop his knuckles. I stole a glimpse at him out of the corner of my eyes. He was vaguely attractive. He was clearly into sports, his muscles stuck out prominently from beneath a purposely too-tight. His hair was dark brown and kept short and neat. He also had the most attractive pair of green eyes I had ever seen.
He coughed nervously. "I was wondering if you maybe... wanted to go with me. I mean, you're new here, and I don't have a date, and I was thinking we could go together. You know, it might be a good way for you to get to know some people here at school, and have a bit of fun too..."
I sighed and stopped in the middle of the empty hall. "Listen, Matt..." I began.
I decided that being rude wasn't fair. I didn't need to take out all of my frustrations and issues on him, he didn't deserve that. He was just a sweet guy who was looking for a date to the school dance. And judging by the fact that he was asking me, he probably couldn't get anyone else to go with him. I needed to let him down easily.