by Amy Clipston
I couldn’t stop my grin. “You’re a smart girl, Vanessa.”
Taylor shot me a feigned glare. “Don’t encourage her.” He turned back to his sister. “I appreciate your concern, but I have a ton of homework. Maybe we can both go with her to her youth-group meeting next week.”
A car steered down the street.
“There’s Mom.” Vanessa punched Taylor’s arm. “Let’s ask her opinion.”
“Oh no. Now three of you are going to gang up on me.” Taylor seemed more amused than annoyed.
“Hey, I’m staying out of this,” I said. “It’s a family matter.”
I watched an older-model Ford sedan pull into the driveway next to my Jeep. Vanessa and Taylor both moved to the car and grabbed grocery bags from the backseat.
I stepped over and held out my hand toward Taylor. “Give me a bag.”
Taylor shook his head. “You don’t need to help.” He turned to Vanessa. “Let’s carry these in for Mom.”
“Hello.” The woman climbed from the car, looking at me. “I’m Maria.”
She was a few inches shorter than I was and wore jeans and a short-sleeved, tan shirt dotted with a few bleach stains. She seemed to be quite a bit younger than my parents, which intrigued me. I wondered how old she was when she had Taylor, but I knew it wasn’t my business to ask.
“Hi.” I shook her hand. “I’m Whitney Richards. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Martinez.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you finally. I’ve heard such nice things about you from Taylor and Vanessa.” Her smile was genuine. “Thank you for being so nice to my Vanessa. She’s really enjoying your cheerleading training.”
“You’re welcome. I’m enjoying helping her. She’s a sweet girl.”
Maria nodded as we stood together by the car. “Yes, she is. Taylor is worried Vanessa may not fit in with the other cheerleaders.”
“I completely disagree,” I said. “If Vanessa is good enough to be on the team, then she deserves a spot. I think I know who is going to replace me as team captain, and she’s a fair girl. She’ll recognize Vanessa’s talent.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” She paused. “I think she should at least try rather than spending her life wishing she had. I know I think about things I should’ve done every day.” She pointed toward the house. “Would you like to stay for supper?”
“Oh, no, thank you. I’m going to go grab something and then head to church for a youth-group meeting.” I fished my keys from my bag. “I appreciate the offer, though. It was very nice meeting you.”
Maria nodded. “Yes, it was very nice meeting you too. I hope to see you again.”
“Mom,” Vanessa called, walking out of the garage. “I think Taylor should go with Whitney tonight.”
Maria turned toward Taylor standing behind his sister. “Do you want to go with her?”
Taylor nodded. “Sure. I’d love to go, but you just got home. I need to help you make supper.”
Maria crossed her arms over her chest. “So you don’t think I’m capable of making supper?”
I was almost certain I spotted the hint of a blush on Taylor’s cheeks. I bit my lip to prevent myself from laughing. His mom was cool!
“I know you can cook, Mom,” he began, “but I just didn’t know if you’d prefer it if I stayed home.”
“Why would I want you home? I see you every day.” She waved off the comment. “Go have some fun.”
“I told you Mom would make you go.” Vanessa lifted her chin in defiance of her brother. “You need to go out and have fun. Take Whitney out to dinner too.”
“You two enjoy yourselves.” Maria placed her hand on Vanessa’s shoulder. “What time will you be home, Taylor?”
Taylor looked at me. “What time is youth group usually over?”
“We usually end by eight,” I said.
“Sounds good. See you later.” Maria gave Vanessa a gentle push as if to tell her to go into the house and mind her own business.
“Bye, Whitney!” Vanessa waved before disappearing into the house.
Taylor moved over to me and pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Does going to dinner and then youth group sound like a plan? My treat.”
I hoped my embarrassment didn’t show on my face. “That’s really not necessary. I can pay for my own dinner.”
“I don’t mind. I managed to get a few extra hours in last week.” He looked down at his bookstore shirt and then motioned toward the house. “Just let me run in and change.”
“Okay. I’ll call my mom and let her know what’s going on.” Taylor disappeared through the garage, and I climbed into my Jeep and dialed the house.
My mother picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, Mom. How are you?”
“I’m fine, dear. How are you?”
“Fine, thanks. I just wanted to let you know I’m going to grab something to eat and then head to youth group. I’ll be home by eight thirty.”
“Okay, dear,” she said. “Have fun. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Thanks, Mom.” That was easy!
I flipped down the sun visor and checked my hair and makeup, almost out of habit. I had brushed my hair out after having it in a ponytail during the training session with Vanessa, and I noticed the dark roots lining my part were becoming more pronounced. My mother insisted I looked better as a blonde, but I was so sick of the appointments. What if I just let it go back to its natural light-brown color? I realized I needed to stop checking my appearance so often. After all, if Taylor truly liked me, he wouldn’t care if my makeup had faded or my hair wasn’t perfectly styled.
I looked out the window just as Taylor reappeared. He had changed into light-blue jeans and a long-sleeved, blue shirt, unbuttoned, with a black T-shirt underneath it.
I rolled down the window. “Hop in.”
“Oh.” He pointed toward the garage. “Have you ever been on a motorcycle?”
“No, I haven’t.” I looked down at my legs. “I can’t today because I’m wearing a skirt, but I’d love a rain check.”
“That’s a deal.” Taylor climbed into the passenger’s seat.
“Where to?” I asked.
He shrugged. “How about the diner?”
“Sounds good.”
Thirty minutes later, I sat across from Taylor at the Cameronville Diner. The restaurant was bustling with the dinnertime crowd. Families crammed the booths and tables while servers weaved through the sea of chairs, delivering food. I inhaled the warm smell of our bacon cheeseburgers and fries.
“This is heaven.” I plucked a fry from my plate.
Taylor lifted his glass of Coke. “Are you talking about our dinner or my company?”
“Both, of course.” I ate another fry. “My mother would flip if she saw me eating this.”
“Why?” He held his burger.
“My mother is always worried about my appearance, and I usually can’t risk eating fattening food, or my cheerleading uniform will be too snug.” I picked up a fry and waved it around. “But cheerleading is over, so I can eat whatever I want.”
“I don’t think you need to worry about your appearance, Whitney. And you looked just fine in your cheerleading uniform the last time I spotted you wearing it at school.” He set his burger on the plate and ate a fry.
“Thanks.” I felt the tips of my ears heat, and I tried to think of something to change the subject. “Your mom is nice.”
“Thanks.” He lifted his burger and took a bite.
“Vanessa told me you want to be a lawyer.”
He nodded while chewing.
“I think that’s great. You definitely have the intelligence and personality to be one.” I took a bite of my burger and wiped my mouth with the paper napkin.
“What do you mean by that?” He peered at me over his glass of Coke.
I wiped my mouth again. “You’re super smart, and you’re not afraid to speak your mind or stand up for what you believe in. Is there a particular f
ield of law you’re interested in?”
“I want to concentrate on family law and help single parents like my mom who are struggling to support their kids.”
“That’s awesome, Taylor. You’ll do a great job.” I took another bite of my burger while imagining Taylor dressed in a suit and sitting in a fancy office surrounded by law books.
“What do you want to do?”
“I’m pretty sure I want to be a teacher. I’d love to teach high school and also work as a cheerleading coach.” I picked up a fry and tried not to cringe while I waited for his reaction.
“That’s cool.”
“My mom doesn’t think so.”
He tilted his head. “Why not?”
“Well, isn’t it obvious?” I asked, and he shook his head. “Teachers don’t make any money. It’s not prestigious like being a lawyer, doctor, or banker is.”
Taylor continued to look confused. “Is that all your mom worries about?”
“You have no idea.” I leaned back in the seat. “She’s pressuring me to go to Kentwood.”
“You got into Kentwood?” He stopped eating and studied me. “Whitney, that’s amazing.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “With your grades, you could’ve gone there too.”
“Not really. Money is a big factor. There’s no way I could’ve gotten a full scholarship, and without that, I can’t go anywhere.” He picked up a fry. “Why don’t you want to go? It’s a great opportunity.”
“I don’t know.” I glanced out the window at the traffic rushing by on Highway 29. “I guess I’m tired of being told what to do, what to wear, how to do my hair, what to eat. I don’t have anything against the school, but I want it to be my choice, not hers. She just wants me to go there, join her former sorority, and walk around campus with her Greek letters emblazoned on my hoodie. It’s like she’s living her life again through me.” I met his curious gaze. “Is making my own choices too much to ask, or do I sound like a spoiled brat who doesn’t appreciate her opportunities?”
He rubbed his chin. “That’s a tough one.”
“You think I’m spoiled and ungrateful, don’t you?” I picked up a fry and wished I’d kept my feelings to myself. Maybe he didn’t understand me as well as I thought he did. “I guess I am. Here you are trying to figure out how to pay for college, and I’m whining that I don’t want to go to the fancy school my mom picked for me. You must think I’m terrible.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think you’re terrible at all. I also don’t think it’s my place to judge you.”
“I’m certain you have an opinion, Taylor. You’ve been very outspoken with me about other things.”
“Are you saying you want the truth?”
I nodded. “The whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
Taylor popped another fry into his mouth. “I think your future is your decision, but you should weigh all of the options before you decide you don’t want to go to Kentwood.”
I sipped my soda while mulling over his words. Silence stretched between us as I ate a few more fries and then bit into the burger. I realized I was comfortable with Taylor, more comfortable than I’d ever been with Brett or my ex-boyfriend Chad Davis. With Taylor, I didn’t feel compelled to fill the silence with meaningless conversation. It was as if we’d known each other our whole lives.
And then it occurred to me—we had known each other our whole lives. At least our whole school careers.
While running a french fry through the puddle of ketchup on my plate, I thought back to our time together in elementary school. “Do you remember sharing your dessert with me in fourth grade?”
He lifted his drink. “How could I forget begging my mother to make chocolate-chip cookies twice a week so I had some to share with you?”
“You had your mother make those cookies just for me?”
“I used to run into the lunchroom so I could sit across from you and be the first one to ask you to trade.”
I studied him, wondering if his story was a joke. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope, I’m not. I couldn’t stand the celery or carrot sticks you offered me in exchange, but I made the sacrifice just to be able to share with you.” Taylor picked up three fries and ran them through the ketchup on my plate. “I’m surprised my mother didn’t ask you if you still like chocolate-chip cookies when she met you, but she probably didn’t want to embarrass me.”
I paused for a moment as his words sunk in. “You brought those cookies to school just for me?”
“Did I stutter? Yes, Whitney, I did it for you.”
“Why would you do that?”
He gave me an “Are you serious?” expression. “Why do you think I did it?”
“You felt sorry for me because my mother wouldn’t let me have sweets and would only let me bring in fruits and vegetables.” I sipped my soda. “I told you she’s always been obsessed with weight.”
“Not even close. That’s not why I did it at all.”
“So what was it?”
He continued to study me with a look of disbelief on his face. “I think it’s obvious I had a crush on you, Whitney.”
“You did?” I waited for the punch line. I was certain at any second he’d laugh and say, “Just kidding.” But the punch line never came.
“Yes, I did. But even in fourth grade, you were too busy with the Brett Steeles and Chad Davises of the world to notice me.”
“That’s not true. I liked you.”
“No, you didn’t. You only used me for my cookies.”
“All right, you caught me. It was all about the cookies.” I joked and then laughed while grabbing another fry.
“I still can’t believe Brett broke up with you on Valentine’s Day.” He ran another fry through the lake of ketchup on my plate. “That’s unreal. What a moron.”
“Yeah, my friends got candy, stuffed animals, and jewelry from their boyfriends. I got a cheap box of candy and a speech that basically said, ‘You’re sweet and pretty, but I just don’t like you that way.’ ”
“What a total moron,” he muttered.
My heart swelled with admiration. I enjoyed having someone defend me. “So, tell me something. Why do you like motorcycles?”
He shrugged while chewing a fry. “Why not? They’re cool.”
“Yes, they’re cool, but is it more than that? I saw all of the posters of bikes in your room, so it seems like more of an obsession.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” He wiped his hands on a napkin. “I like the feeling of getting on my bike and just driving without a care in the world. I can be free of all of the stress in my life. It’s just me and the open road. Well, as open as it can be in traffic. It’s freeing and exhilarating all at once.”
“That sounds amazing.” I blew out a sigh while imagining that freedom.
“You’ll have to try it sometime.” He grabbed another fry and then glanced at his watch. “We don’t have much time, do we?”
I shook my head.
“We’d better order our ice-cream sundaes now, then.”
“Oh no.” I touched my stomach. “I can’t.”
He lifted his chin and grinned. “I won’t tell your mom if you don’t.”
I laughed. “It’s a deal.”
Later that evening, I pulled into Taylor’s driveway. “I had a really nice time.”
“I did too.” He unbuckled his seat belt. “Thanks for the invitation.”
I rested my arm on the steering wheel. “I can’t take credit. It was your sister’s idea.”
“I really liked your church. What time is the service on Sunday?”
“It starts at ten. Do you think you might want to come?”
“Yeah, I do.” He held on to the door handle. “My mom started a second job a while back, and she has to work most Sundays. We got out of the habit of going to church because of her work schedule, but we shouldn’t have. We used to go to another church, but I really liked yours. I’d like to give it a try.”
&nb
sp; “Cool. I’d love to see you at church.” I contemplated our dinner and suddenly felt guilty that he’d paid, since his mother had to work two jobs to keep them afloat. “I owe you dinner, though. You shouldn’t have paid.”
“Do you know what my sister would do to me if I’d let you pay? She’d be really upset. Just consider it a payment for helping my sister.”
“How could I take a payment from you?” I asked. “If it wasn’t for you, I never would’ve had dessert in elementary school.”
We both chuckled, and I relished the warmth of his laugh. I wished we’d had more time together. The evening had gone too quickly.
“Well, I guess I should get going.” He pushed the door open.
“Yeah. I actually still have some homework to do.”
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “I don’t want to keep you. Have a good night.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He sprinted around my Jeep and up to the front step, stopping to wave before disappearing into the house.
I thought about the evening as I drove through Great Oaks toward my neighborhood. Taylor and I had enjoyed burgers, fries, and hot-fudge sundaes at the diner before heading to church.
During the youth-group meeting, we’d divided up into groups and played board games. Taylor and I stayed together and played a game in the back of the room. Emily arrived late and joined us. I spotted her smiling at me every time Taylor teased me or made me laugh. However, I also noticed a few of the other girls in the group giving me strange looks as if to ask why I’d brought him with me. It bugged me to see people react to Taylor that way, but it didn’t change my opinion of him.
I merged onto the main road and gripped the steering wheel. I knew I was falling for Taylor, and it excited and frightened me all at the same time. I was flattered and surprised to hear he’d had a crush on me in elementary school, and I wondered how he felt about me now. Did he like me just as a friend, or could it be more? And if he did like me, would it even matter after we graduated in June?
As I turned into Castleton, I thought more about the youth-group meeting and Taylor. I knew I needed to put my faith in God, but I couldn’t help but feel confused. I didn’t know where I belonged. Did I belong at the University with Emily and Taylor, or was I supposed to go to Kentwood and make new friends?