by J. Benson
"What do you want to watch?" He asked.
"Anything. It doesn't matter to me." I replied.
"How about a movie, then?" He offered.
I nodded with a smile. "Sounds perfect."
"Which movie? Between my brothers and me, I think we've got everything that has come out in the last two years." He opened one of the cabinet doors surrounding the television to reveal that he wasn't exaggerating. There had to have been thousands of movie titles, all neatly arranged with the spines sticking out to show the titles.
"It doesn't matter to me. I haven't seen a new movie in almost a year... other than last week." I admitted.
"Okay..." He paused over the DVDs and at last selected one. He popped it into the player and sat next to me.
I folded my legs beneath myself. "So, did you talk to your parents about coming with me to New York?"
"Yeah." He replied. "They're surprisingly okay with it. I actually sort of thought they would freak out... but they're okay with it."
"You didn't think they would be?" I asked curiously.
"To be honest, I didn't know how they would react to their teenage son running off to the big bad city with his teenage girlfriend," He laughed. "My mom was a little apprehensive about it, but my dad was fine with it. He thought it was an excellent idea. He insisted that your mother would be there and was capable of looking out for us. Or in other words watching our every move to ensure we don't get into too much trouble..."
"Okay, so you left out the part about her being a lousy drunk who can barely function beyond a bottle and-"
"No. I didn't think that was imperative...." He replied quickly.
I nodded and reached from my purse. It was sitting where I left it on the coffee table. I reached inside and removed a blank white envelope and placed it in his hand.
"What's this?" He asked curiously, turning the envelope over in his hands and searching for an answer.
"It's your plane ticket." I responded. "We leave early Friday morning and back late Sunday. Are your parents okay with you missing a day of school?"
"I imagine so. My grades are fine..." He paused. "I was planning on paying for my own ticket..."
I sighed. "I know you wanted to, but I made a deal with my mother. If she wants to see me, than you're coming too. We're kind of a package deal. I need you to be there, you're my moral support."
He smiled at that. "Okay, I guess I can live with that."
I rested my head on his shoulder with a small smile. I lightly ran my fingers down the skin on the inside of his arm. My fingers slid across his palm until my hand matched his. Our fingers interlaced and he squeezed his hand closed around mine.
"You're really okay with me coming with you?" He asked curiously. "You seemed like you really didn't want me to go at first."
"I'm getting used to the idea." I agreed. "I mean at first I was a little worried about you coming. My mother is a real mess, and I kind of didn't want anyone to see it. But maybe it's important to have someone there to help me through all of this. Now, I'm glad that I have someone who cares enough to hold my hand while my mother hideously embarrasses me."
"That's not very optimistic, is it?" He teased.
I laughed. "Sorry. Born and raised a pessimist." I shrugged lightly.
He grinned. "Do you want popcorn or anything? Chips?" He offered.
"No, thank you. I'm fine." I answered. I was still full from the huge helping of macaroni and cheese he'd given me for dinner.
"Okay." He released my hand and his arm moved around my shoulders. I moved closer to him, laying my head against the inside of his shoulder and resting my hand just above his knee.
"I like this." I mused. "It feels nice. It feels... normal."
"Normal?" He asked, laying a soft kiss against my hair.
"Sorry." I sighed. "I don't know how to explain it further than that... I... I like being with you." I responded, feeling slightly embarrassed.
"I really like being with you too. I've never felt this way before... about anyone." He replied.
"Really?" I asked, shifting to look up into his eyes.
Taylor smiled down at me. "No, never. I actually didn't believe that there was anything to relationships other than sex... I mean I guess I'm my own form of pessimist. Or maybe I just needed to meet the right person." He shrugged.
My mind was running in circles. A part of me was burning to ask him what he had meant about relationships being only about sex. Did that mean he had had sex before? I was a virgin, but it wasn't really something I thought about. I wasn't waiting for any particular reason, but I also wasn't willing to give it away to someone who didn't deserve it. I wasn't going to regret who I gave my virginity to.
The other part of me was distracted by the last thing he'd said. When he said he was waiting for the right person before he had any faith in relationships, did that mean that he didn't believe in relationships? If so, what were we doing together? Was he just biding his time until he could get into my pants? Or did he mean that he considered me the right person.
Taylor kissed my hair again. "I'm going to make some popcorn. Do you want me to start the movie?"
I smiled politely. "No, that's alright. I'll wait until you come back."
"Can I get you something to drink? Soda?" He offered.
I smiled. "Water, please. I'll help you." I offered, standing.
I followed Taylor into the kitchen and watched as he removed the plastic from a bag of microwave popcorn. He placed it in the microwave and set the time. He grabbed himself a can of soda from the fridge and turned on the water. He let the tap run while he grabbed a glass from the cupboard. He filled the glass and placed it on the counter next to his can of soda.Taylor turned and caught me in his arms. He pulled me against him playfully and bent to kiss me. I laughed softly, letting him hold me tightly, kissing me.
"So, is there anything you want to do when we're in New York? Any of the sights you want to see?" I asked curiously.
Taylor's arms tightened around me in a firm embrace. He rested his chin on top of my head. "I don't have to do anything in New York. I want to learn all about you. I want to see the things you saw every day, and do the things you grew up doing. I want to learn everything about you that there is to learn. I want a glimpse into your life before you walked into mine."
I pursed my lips, swallowing thickly. That was arguably the most romantic thing I'd ever heard in my entire life. I felt myself blush a soft shade of red.
"That'll be awfully boring. Are you sure you don't want to see some of the tourist attractions?" I offered. I was so close to him, that I could hear his heart beating steadily in his chest. It was a soothing sound.
"Whatever you want to do." He replied easily.
The timer on the microwave went off, and Taylor released me. I wrapped my arms around myself awkwardly, feeling suddenly cold without his arms around me.
I watched as Taylor emptied the bag into a bowl and tossed the empty bag into the garbage under the sink. He picked up the bowl and balanced his soda can underneath my glass of water.
"Alright," He announced. "Movie time."
I smiled. "I can carry something." I offered.
"Nope, I've got it." He smirked, pausing long enough to lightly kiss me as he walked into the living room.
I followed him out of the kitchen and plopped down on the sofa next to him. He placed the drinks on the coffee table and sat back with the bowl of popcorn in his lap. He started the movie with the remote, and leaned back with his arm around my shoulders.
Chapter 43:
Stood Up
I was somewhere between awake and dreaming when Taylor's angelic voice called my name. I thought for a moment I was dreaming, until I heard his voice again.
"Emma? We're here." I could hear the smile in his voice before I even opened my eyes.
I groaned softly and lifted my head from his lap. He had placed a pillow on his lap, and I was perfectly content to sleep there. I hadn't intended to sleep as long as I had
, but once I was asleep I was out cold. But after a handful of sleepless nights worrying about bringing Taylor to meet the train wreck that was my mother, I was grateful for the rest. And sleeping on Taylor's lap made me feel more rested than I had in ages.
I blinked; the lights on the plane seemed much brighter than before I had fallen asleep.
"We're just about to land at the airport." He said, lightly smoothing my hair down. It was a gentle and loving gesture, and I expected nothing less from him. I assumed my hair was a mess. I wondered if I had a comb in my purse.
"Okay." I mumbled. I was still a little groggy and my mouth was parched. I hoped I hadn't snored. I glanced around wondering if there was a stewardess bringing around drinks. But knowing how close we were to landing, there wouldn't be any service.
"You know, I don't think I've ever had a girl fall asleep on me before." He mused, "Well, other than my sisters..."
"Sorry. I warned you that I couldn't stay awake on a plane." I was slightly embarrassed. I felt my cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.
"I don't mind at all." He replied immediately. He gently cupped my cheek with his warm hand, and stroked my skin with his thumb. I could feel his touch chasing away any embarrassment I may have felt. "You're pretty while you sleep." He mused.
My skin flushed a deeper shade of crimson. No one had ever told me I was pretty before, except for my father and grandmother. I'd never had a boyfriend before, but hearing him tell me I was pretty made my knees shake slightly.
"I think that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me." I smiled at him.
"I doubt that." He smirked. "But if it helps, I can find more sweet things to say to you." He lowered his lips to my ear and laid a soft kiss at the corner of my jaw. I had to hold my breath to keep from gasping as tingles surged throughout my skin. I shut my eyes instead, relishing in the private moment passing between us.
The pilot announced we would be landing in a few minutes, and the seatbelt light flashed and beeped. I immediately followed the blinking light's instructions, and turned my gaze out the window.
I had never been a religious person, but suddenly I was praying to every God I could think of that when my mother picked us up at the airport she would at least be sober. I hoped against all odds that she would be in a decent mood, and willingly accept my first boyfriend ever. Surely, as unreasonable as she could be at times, she could see that Taylor was kind and loving. He was exactly what I needed after losing my father. He was the normalcy and comfort that I was so desperately lacking. I knew I was grasping at straws. Just hoping she would be sober when she met us was a stretch.
Taylor's hand grazed across my knee and took mine, squeezing it tightly in his hand.
I looked up at him in confusion.
"You were chewing your lip." He replied. "Usually when you do that, you're either deep in thought or you're upset about something. I thought you might like a hand to hold." He offered.
I smiled, completely touched. "Thank you." I breathed.
"I'm here for you." He smiled warmly, "No matter what."
"I hope you're still saying that later." I mused darkly.
“At least we’re together.” He offered optimistically.
I nodded; my smile widening. A part of me was glad he had added the last bit on. He had no idea what was going to happen, and to be honest, neither did I. But I felt better just hearing him say that he would be with me no matter what.
Our landing was shaky, which worried me. If it were any kind of a warning as to what was to come, I was terrified. Taylor assured me it was probably simply snow on the tarmac.
I led the way off the plane and through the gate. Ours was the closest to the baggage claim, which was good since I hardly remembered this airport at all. I was sure I had been to it numerous times on family vacations, and picking up my grandmother from the airport on holidays.
"Where do we go to meet your mother?" Taylor asked, after we had retrieved our luggage. Luckily we had both managed to pack lightly. And what seemed even luckier was that neither of our bags had gone missing. I figured with my luck, our luggage would be lost somewhere off the coast of Antarctica. A huge part of me wished we were off the coast of Antarctica. The frigid temperature had to be better than the frigid reception we were bound to receive from my mother.
"The main gate." I replied, glancing from side to side.
"And where is that?" He pressed.
"I... don't know..." I responded slowly. I shook my head. "It's been a while, I can't quite remember. It's near a Starbucks though.... I think."
He smiled. "That's okay. We'll find it. Should we ask someone?"
"No, I can find it." I said, trying to draw confidence in myself.
"Right... I hear New Yorkers aren't friendly anyway." He teased, lightly nudging me with his shoulder.
I laughed, "Come on, let’s try this way."
I was carrying a massive purse—which I had bought solely for this trip—on one shoulder and wheeling my bag behind me with my free hand. It made it difficult to maneuver between the crowds of people. Taylor offered to help me carry something: having only brought his backpack and a bag on wheels which looked suspiciously like mine, except black instead of a burgundy color.
After what seemed like forever, we found the main entrance and found a large cluster of benches. "She said she would find us here." I relayed to him. I was less happy that we had found the entrance, and more happy that we had found a Starbucks. Traveling required liquid energy. And I was going to need every drop of caffeine I could get before reuniting with my inebriated mother.
Taylor saw me eying the coffee shop and mulling over the queue. He smiled. "How about I get us some coffee? Wait here?"
I nodded. "You read my mind. Thank you."
He squeezed my hand again and released it slowly.
I bit my lower lip, touched at how adorable he was being so far. I hadn't wanted him to come on this trip; but now I couldn't imagine making the trip without him. I hadn't believed that having someone with me to hold my hand through all of this would help, but he was already helping immensely. I was eternally grateful simply for his presence.
I sighed heavily, crossing my arms. I realized I was impatiently tapping my foot on the heavy industrial carpet of the main entrance. I glanced around the terminal and found a clock on the wall. It proclaimed the time as shortly after the noon hour.
As a result of the snow, our flight had taken longer than necessary. Even so, my mother was at least an hour late. I thought about calling her. She'd probably forgotten about us. Or intentionally drank until she forgot she even had a child. I dreaded an inevitable fight in front of Taylor, though at this point, I fully expected it.
"Here you go." Taylor's voice sliced into my thoughts. I jumped in surprise.
He laughed. "Sorry."
"It's okay." I replied before he could even ask. I took the coffee he was holding out to me and cradled it in both hands. I took an appreciative sip, even though the coffee was far too hot. It burned my throat on the way down.
He stood beside me, bursting with questions. I could tell by the expression on his face.
"So, what does your mother look like?" He questioned. "You know, so I know what to look for..."
"She looks like me. Only taller, thinner... and prettier." I sighed. "Her hair is a little lighter and has a more natural curl to it, but everyone says I look like her when she was my age... I think I've got too much of my dad in me." I sighed at the memory, staring at the coffee cup in my hand.
I wanted to leave out the fact that there was a huge possibility that she might be stumbling around drunk. Actually, it was more than a possibility. At this point, it was more like an inevitability.
"You miss your dad..." He mused. "A lot."
I nodded slowly, feeling tears spring up exactly when I didn't want them to. It was not something I liked to think about. Or even talk about for that matter. "Yes." I admitted, after a lengthy pause. Probably too long of a pause.
&
nbsp; "You were very close." He leaned closer to me. The way he spoke made it clear that it wasn't a question, it was a statement.
"I guess so." I sniffled involuntarily. "Can we not talk about this here? Can we not talk about this now?" I pleaded.
"Sorry." He replied.
I took a sip of my coffee and he drank deeply from his. An almost awkward silence filled the air around us.
"What time is your mother supposed to pick us up?" He asked curiously.
I sighed. "Over an hour ago."
"Okay, so there's traffic. Or maybe the weather..." He offered, making excuses.
"She would have called. She should have called." I replied.
"It's okay that she's late. We can hang out here, it's... kind of fun." He took a drink from his coffee.
"Right." I rolled my eyes. "I'll go out and see if I can find her." I suggested.
"I'll come with you." He offered.
"No, no. It's okay. There's no point in us both getting cold. Besides, I know what the car looks like." I smiled. "Stay with the bags?"
"Whatever you want me to do." He agreed.
I smiled and lightly kissed his cheek before hurrying out into the freezing weather without my parka on. It was snowing in large flakes that were floating gracefully to the ground. There was no sign of my mother's black Mercedes anywhere; simply a sea of yellow cabs.
I slipped back through the doors, and without Taylor seeing me; located a pay phone. I dialed my home number, surprised that I actually even remembered the number. I let the phone ring. It seemed to ring a thousand times before the machine finally picked up. I left an unimpressed message on the machine, and in a fit of rage told her to forget picking us up; we would take a cab.
I marched back to Taylor who was waiting expectedly.
"Is she on her way?" He questioned.
"No. We're going to take a cab." I replied, irritated. I picked up my heavy parka, and shoved my arms through the sleeves.
"But what if she is on her way?" He asked standing and shoving his arms into his coat.
"That's her problem." I replied. I was beyond angry. And I knew I shouldn't be short with Taylor, and I was trying not to be. But I was angry at my mother, and feeling humiliated in front of the one person who fully understood me, and supported me no matter what.