“And then what happened?”
I felt terrible for taking such entertainment in my friend’s misfortune, but ever since Abby had burst into my room, declaring “I kissed Taylor,” I felt like I was reading a novel.
“Well, thank God for Mackenzie- just then, he started crying ‘cause he had gotten a splinter on the guardrail, so I, like, swooped down, grabbed him, and rushed inside like I was running from an atomic bomb. And then I made up some lie about feeling sick, and spent the rest of dinner in the bathroom, periodically warding off my mother and Clara.”
“What about Taylor and Reagan?”
“Search me. I haven’t talked to him since last night, before we...” Abby colored. “Since before I fled.”
I flopped back on my bed, landing on a couple of dated magazines and numerous stuffed animals. “I can’t believe it. That’s a lie. I can believe it, as a matter of fact. It makes sense, when you think about it, but still..” I propped myself up on one elbow. “So where do you go from here?”
Abby fell quiet and busied herself shredding a tissue. “Who do I look like, Kreskin? I don’t know.”
Abby
“The words we most want to say are difficult to find sometimes. Their journey begins far, far away- in the heart.” ~ Unknown
“I went on a picnic and I brought an apple, a bear, a cat, a dump truck, and...an egg. Your turn, Suzanna.”
It was a couple of nights later, and I was babysitting for the Ferris siblings, bailing Clara out of another job she suddenly couldn’t do because “something came up”. “Something” was probably the boyfriend of the moment, but it wasn’t like I had plans or anything. I did, however, wish that I could have watched the kids at the Ferris house as opposed to my own; that family is very well off, and I would have gotten to play with the vast Barbie house they have, the one with the automatic garage and working lights (I tend to regress when I babysit), but Mr. and Mrs. Ferris were having a party, so the whole point of the evening was to get the kids out of the house. Not to bring another one in to play with the toys.
Suzanna sat on the couch behind me and braided my hair as I played go fish with Jamie and kept an eye on Mikey, who was watching TV a little too quietly and peacefully for my comfort.
Suzanna added a fire hydrant to our list, and as Jamie, who’s six, struggled to remember everything we’d said before her turn, Suz finished braiding and informed me that I looked ready to go out on a date. “Speaking of dates,” she said, sliding off the couch and down next to me on the floor in typical nine-year-old fashion, “Do you have a boyfriend, Abby?”
Jamie lost interest in trying to remember what came after the cat, and waited for me to answer her sister’s question.
“Ummm...” said I. “Well, I’ll tell you something, Suz. I have a very good friend who’s a boy, but I don’t know if you’d call him a boyfriend.”
Suzanna and Jamie nodded. “But do you want him to be?”
I opened my mouth and, after a moment, realized I didn’t know what to say. “Mikey!” I sprung up and grabbed the remote control, changing the channel back to Nickelodeon- Mikey had put on HBO, and was watching When Harry Met Sally. “Figures,” I muttered.
I was about to suggest dinner when the doorbell rang and Jamie bounded towards the door, her brown curls flying. She looked through the window and turned to me wordlessly.
“Who is it?” I asked.
Jamie shrugged.
“Boy or girl?”
“Girl.”
I looked through the window myself, and saw Taylor standing on the front porch. The humidity in the air that had promised to become snow had warmed into rain, instead, and Taylor’s damp hair was sticking to his neck.
I opened the door. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Wanna come in?”
“Unless you wanna stand here with the door open.”
I nodded, and turned to the little girl standing at my side. “Jamie, could you do me a big favor and tell Suzanna that dinner will be in a few minutes, and to make sure the television stays on Nickelodeon?” I thought a moment. “There are coloring books and stuff like that in the basket next to the couch. Stay in the living room, okay? If you’re quiet, we’ll have ice cream after we eat.”
Jamie nodded happily, and pulled on the sleeve of my Tulsa University sweatshirt. I leaned down, and she whispered, “He’s not a girl, is he?”
I laughed out loud and shook my head. “Nope.”
Jamie nodded, and took off into the living room.
Taylor smiled. “What was that about?”
I shook my head, and prayed my voice wasn’t shaking as much as the rest of me was. “Girl talk. Um, go into the kitchen. I’ll get you a towel or something; you’re, like, soaking wet.” I bolted up the stairs and retrieved the only clean towel in the whole linen closet, a Ninja Turtles one that was practically threadbare. I briefly wondered if I should take out the braid, and then realized that with the dampness in the air, all my hard blow-drying work would be undone, and my hair would frizz up like it was so fond of doing. The braid was to stay.
I walked into the kitchen, tossed the towel to Taylor, wordlessly filled two glasses with water, put one of them on the table, and perched on the counter with the other one. I didn’t meet his eyes once, and was in the process of hating myself for it when Taylor spoke.
“Obviously, we have a bit of a situation here.”
“No kidding. God, I’m sorry, Taylor.”
His eyes snapped up. “Why? I mean, for what?”
“For doing this to you. To us.”
“What do you mean, ‘for doing this to me’? In case you didn’t notice, I kissed you back. It was probably you who did the kissing back, even.”
I still couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye. “Maybe, but still, how many times have you told everybody that you can’t handle a gir- that kind of relationship now? And here we have Abby, who’s supposed to be your best friend, and she can’t even be a good enough ally to respect those wishes.”
Taylor waved a hand in front of my face. “Uh, hello? Abby, you’re talking about this like it’s something you did on your own. In order for two people to kiss, there have to be four lips, and two of those lips were mine.”
As if to illustrate his point, Taylor got up and walked over to me. Lifting my face so I was forced to look into his eyes, he kissed me lightly.
And for a few moments, I kissed him back. I was sucked into a world beyond my manipulation, a world wherein I had no command... I felt dizzy. This was not happening. I, Abigail Gwenivere, could not let this happen. Taylor and I were friends. We were best friends, and best friends do not kiss. I broke away.
“Taylor,” I said desperately, feeling wildly out of control and more than a little miserable. “You are my best friend, and I can’t do this to that friendship. Or to you-”
“God, Abby, you aren’t doing anything to me!” he started, but I cut him off.
“Fine, then. Then I can’t do this to me. Taylor, haven’t you seen enough movies, or read enough books, to know what happens when people like us cross that line? It never works. Never ever. We’ll say, ‘Oh, well, even if it doesn’t work out, we’ll stay friends’. But I guarantee you, Taylor, it doesn’t work that way. Look at Meg Ryan and that other guy whose name I can’t think of right now in When Harry Met Sally.” I tried to come up with another example. “Christ, Tay, look at my parents. They were best friends, too.”
I was losing it. I hate getting like that, when the words just start tumbling out and I can’t stop them to save my life. I could feel the tears about to start, and I once again looked into the eyes of my bewildered friend. “Listen, Tayles. I’m sorry. I feel even worse now than I did before, and at this point I don’t know how to remedy that. I need you to let me think about this whole thing.” The fact that I used the nickname I reserved only for when I knew I was being bad just added to my wretchedness. “I’ll get this all straightened out,” I promised. “and when I do, we’ll get back to normal.”
Taylor nodded silently, but his eyes were filled with more questions then I could ever hope to answer in a thousand years. He got to the door before warning, “Just be sure that’s what you want.” He waved. “See ya around, Abs.”
Why do I do these things?
