Taylor
Damn phone. Would somebody shut it up? How many times had it rang? Where was everybody? Pick up the phone!!
Grouchily, Taylor did the task himself.
"Hello?" he barked.
"Whoa, hi."
"Cheyenne?"
"Who else would phone you?" she smiled, jokingly.
"Who else would let it ring a trillion times?" he returned, suddenly happy, and in a joking mood.
"You tell me," was the innocent reply, "Look, I need you to come over."
"Why?"
"Let's just say that if you don't have a decent excuse, I will send you to an early grave."
"Whoa! No need to resort to violence!"
"Taylor, be polite! Don't say anything smart-allecky. Or, joke sarcastically. And on't slurp whatever they may give you to drink! These are the Springs!!"
"Mo-om," Taylor whined. Why hadn't he gotten Isaac to drive him?
"Okay, have fun. I want to know everything that comes out of Mr Spring's mouth."
"Bye, Mom," he persisted, slamming the van door. Ugh! His mom? A teeny? Dear gawd!
Luckily for Taylor, Cheyenne answered the door. Off to the living room they went. Unluckily for Taylor, Mr Spring was already there.
"Dad," Cheyenne began, scrunching her eyebrows, "You promised."
"Chey, just let me get a good look at what I'm leaving my 15 year old daughter with. He looks just the kinda kid who would pull something on you."
Okay. So Mom isn't going to get every word he says.
"DAD!"
"Okay, okay! Lay 1 finger on my girl, what's-your-name-"
"Taylor Hanson." His voice broke. It was the first time it had broken in months, and it had to do it right in front of Mr Spring. Dammit! He glanced at Mr Spring and Cheyenne to see if they had noticed.
"Hanson? He's musical, eh?" A small amount of admiration and interest lit Mr Spring's face, "Well, in that case! No, wait! I know about what occurs in a music-"
"DAD! We aren't even going out! BYE!"
Grumbling, Mr Spring admitted defeat, and left them alone.
"That was embarrassing," Cheyenne blushed, ringing her hands.
"Don't worry 'bout it. Now what'd you want to ask me?"
"Why does Britt suddenly want to kill me?"
"Huh?"
"She told me that if I ever interferred with her again, she would make sure that I never could bother again. Huh yourself. You tell me."
"I dumped her," he shrugged.
"You did?" She sounded surprised.
"Uh huh. In her warped mind, she probably blames you."
"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!"
"Ugh!" Taylor added.
"So, who's your next victim?"
"Why, you of course," he joked, "No, seriously. I've sworn off girls forever."
"Who's next? Guys?"
Shut up! Girls are only trouble."
Cheyenne slapped him gently and giggled.
Zac
Stephanie swung the door open and grinned.
"Zac, hey!"
"Hi, Steph." Why'd he come? A) He was bored. B) He was bored. And C) He was bored. Well, he'd wanted to see her too, "Wanna come over and play my new Play Station?"
"Sure. Feel like losing?"
"What the hell?" he asked, shrugging.
She yelled where she was going, and took off after Zac.
It was a ten minute walk to Zac's house. They did it in silence. A boring, but comfortable silence.
When they got their, he took their coats, and off the went to play his dream machine.
"I bet I win," she stated.
"I bet you lose," he stated. Suddenly, he grinned wickedly.
"What?" she asked.
"I'll make you a bet."
"A bet? What are we betting?"
"Kisses," he told her, deviously.
"Kisses?" A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lip, but she sounded unsure.
He nodded, grinning naughtily, before explaining, "If I win, you can walk your butt over to Wickit and give her a big smack right on her doggy lips!"
"Ew. And if I win?"
"I'll kiss 'er," he shrugged.
"Okay."
Zac ended up kissing the dog (on her head. He didn't like his original rule, so he changed it), then brushed his teeth after.
"Okay, Zac," Stephanie slyly began, "I have another wager which, even though it was funny watching you kiss Wickit, I like more."
"Go ahead. But-"
"No buts! If I win, no kisses. If you win, you can kiss the loser."
That Zac liked. He never fought so hard in his life, but to no avail.
"Stephie! I lost!" he gasped in disbelief.
"Told you that you would. I'd better go."
"Okay. Phone me?"
"Sure."
He watched her walk to the door, and began to flip through the TV stations. He'd gone through 2 when he stood up, and went after her. She was all of the way down the driveway before he did.
"Steph, wait up!"
She stopped and had her arms open for Zac when he got to her. He squeezed her tightly, and tried to catch his breath from his run. The driveway wasn't exactly short. She hugged him back, and he could smell her perfume, as faint as it was. Pulling away so that he could see her face, Zac whispered, "You smell pretty."
She blushed, and Zac knew exactly what was going to happen, exactly what he had to do.
Softly, she whispered, "I've never kissed anybody before."
"Me either," he breathed, blushing slightly at his inexperience.
She nodded slowly, and he moved his hand from her back to her cheek. After looking into her eyes for a moment, Zac brushed his lips against hers.
Giggling giddily, we whispered into her ear, "You are better at it than the dog."
Isaac
"I dumped her," Taylor blurted.
"Britt?" Ike wanted to jump for joy, or do a jig, whatever.
""Heehaw, the witch is dead! The wicked witch is dead!"" Isaac sung, from the Wizard of Oz.
Taylor laughed, "You seriously need help!"
"Don't we know it?"
Both of them laughed again, Britt forgotten.
"Shae," Isaac said into the phone.
"Isaac."
"Come over for dinner."
"I don't know..."
Every since Mr and Mrs Hanson had found out she was a teenage mom, she hadn't felt comfortable around them. Not because they made it that way; they were pleasant people. But, she was afraid of what they thought of her.
"Come on!" Ike persisted, "Bring the twins."
"Issac!! I don't think-"
"Shae, I love you." Whoa!! Holy!! Man!! Where had that come from? Did he? He winced, he wanted to take it back. More than anything, he wanted it back.
"Is-a-c?" her voice shook, "Jonathon Laurier said that too. Look where that got me."
"Shae-"
"I love you too," she rushed, "You are different."
'I love you too'? Isaac felt warm inside. Four words that just meant the world to him.
"So, you'll c-come?" Strike when iron's hot, he always said.
"Yeah," she mumbled, dreamily, "Bye."
"Bye."
Taylor
Tay opened his eyes. It was misty out. He yawned and kicked off the covers.
Lazily, he drug himself downstairs, and gave his mom a hug.
"Morning, Mom," he yawned.
"Morning, Baby. Sleep well?"
He yawned again, stretched, and nodded.
"Tht's good, dear. Cheyenne Spring phoned."
"Did she?" Tay asked, reaching for the phone, and dialing her number.
"Yup."
Taylor left the kitchen, and went back to his room. Cheyenne answered the phone, just before he was about to hang up.
"Hey?" she greeted, drawling lazily, "Cheyenne speaking."
"Hey, No Name," he said, pulling up the old nickname.
"Oh, hi Tay. Could you come over?"
"Why?" was the guarded response.
"'Cause I found something I want to show you."
"Okay. I'll leave in a couple minutes."
Cheyenne held a trumpet out for Taylor to see. Softly, she ran her hands over the metal and sighed.
Mr Spring wasn't home, and Cheyenne had ushered him off to the music room in their house.
Taylor made a move to take the trumpet, but Cheyenne was acting extremely reluctant to give it up. He looked into her eyes for an explanation.
"It was Mom's. She was teaching me to play it," Cheyenne snorted, "Took a month for me to learn 'Mary Had A Little Lamb.'"
"Play it," Taylor instructed.
Absolute nervousness claimed her, and she pushed the trumpet at Taylor indignantly, "No, you!"
"Okay," he shrugged, taking the trumpet. The honk that was produced was enough to make even Cheyenne wince.
"Maybe. With practise." And she laughed.
"Oh, shut up. You're just happy that you found someone worse than you." With that, he raised it to his lips again, and blew for all he was worth.
The sound that greeted Mr Spring when he came through the door was enough to make him go out again, almost. It resembled the sound of dying elephants, and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He wondered who was honking. Not Cheyenne. His daughter played better music than that.
He stopped short at the music room door. Eck. That Hanson kid. He knew what....wiat! He was holding THE trumpet. Rachel Anne's. Mr Spring's breath came short. He hadn't seen that since he'd packed it up after she'd passed. A thousand emotions hit him at once. Slowly, he backed out of the doorway to where he could see, and not be seen.
That Hanson made a few more painful sounding toos before handing it back to Cheyenne.
"Play something now," he instructed.
"I can't."
"C'mon, I did."
"You call that playing?" she asked, slyly.
"I don't have anything to compare it with, do I?"
Groaning, she grabbed the trumpet, and played "Mary Had A Little Lamb" faster than ever before.
Pride took over all other emotions. Cheyenne looked so much like her mother when she played the trumpet, it was eerie. Almost like seeing her over again, he reasoned. The two of them had been so proud of "Mary Had A Little Lamb". Quite a team, his wife and daughter. Sadly, he recalled Rachel Anne had gone three weeks after. And the music had died, in him and in his house. But, yet, years later, there it was again. It was at times like this that he knew Rachel Anne was smiling down at them. Her music was alive again.
Quietly, he walked away from the music room.
How about you tell me what you think, please?