Randy woke up bright and early on Thursday morning. She had never felt so apathetic in her life. School was a huge ordeal she wished to avoid entirely. Everyone was so annoying, rattling on and on about how sorry they felt for her and how Taylor was now in Heaven smiling down on her, blah, blah, blah. She just wished they'd shut up and believe her. Taylor isn't dead. He couldn't be. It was a prank. Taylor loved to pull pranks on people...
"Randy!" her mother called.
"Coming!" she called back. She examined herself in her vanity mirror. It showed everything from her hips up. Her dirty blond hair was swept back in a bun, and she wore a plain black dress. If anything, she looked worse than usual. She'd spent very little time on her appearance over the past few days. Downstairs her sister, Lia, was quietly waiting on the couch. She looked as icy and pristine as ever, her blue eyes glancing at Randy complacently, then sliding back to the opposite wall. She'd come home as scheduled, but had not expected to find everything in such turmoil. She was more quiet and distant than usual. She's probably just trying to avoid having me pretend to be her closest friend and having an intimate sisterly moment, Randy thought dully. Why would I be emotional though? Taylor's alive. There's nothing to be emotional about.
The ride to Tulsa passed uneventfully asides the fact that she noticed a run in her panty hose and that the seam in the sleeve of her good jacket had a hole in it. She couldn't help but be aware of the fact that she must be the polar opposite of Lia, Ms. Perfect, who was sitting next to her in the back seat of the car. The only things they had in common were parents and twirling, which was really just a quick way for Randy to get a good scholarship. The sun was out and shining despite the cold outside. This early in the morning, the frost was still nestled on the ground. Everything outside the window was sparkling and clean. It all looked so inviting. Soon, though, the highways gave way to suburbs, and then to freeways and the city. It vanished again into suburbs. Familiar streets passed slowly as the car crept down the road at 30 miles per hour. Her parents sitting in the front seat were very silent.
The street, which Taylor lived on, was packed with cars. Randy was mildly surprised. Cars lined the sides of the street in front of his house. Several girls sat on the sidewalk before his house, wailing and crying. Her father parked the car a block away explaining that it would be easier to get out this far away. Randy and Lia walked beside each other a few steps ahead of their parents. Up the block, past the menagerie of crying girls, and to the Hansons' front door. As they stood on the front porch, Randy could hear the girls whispering, "I wonder if one of those girls was his girlfriend." They made her uncomfortable, and she was so glad when the door opened to reveal one of Taylor's aunts. She thought her name was Virginia, and she was Mr. Hanson's sister because of her dark hair.
"Randy, Lia, Mitch, Belinda," the woman said, naming them off like guests on a list. "My brother and his wife are waiting for you." Randy was positive that her name was Virginia as they followed her to the living room. The woman had struck her as being snotty and formal before, and Taylor had agreed that she was.
Mrs. Hanson was sitting on the couch with Mr. Hanson, their hands wrapped tightly around each other's. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were streaked with abandoned tears. Mr. Hanson looked exhausted. They both looked so out of place in their nice, formal clothes. This was a Thursday, Randy remembered. Not a Sunday! Why was everyone wearing their church clothes on a Thursday? This was all a gag. A show that Taylor was putting on.
Good one, Taylor. When are you going to come out of hiding, and tell the truth?
Mrs. Hanson acknowledged Randy by reaching out her free hand to her. Randy took it. The woman applied a reassuring pressure, and pulled her closer to the couch. Randy sat down next to her. "The kids are upstairs getting ready," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Do you think you can go get them? I don't think I can bare to move."
Randy did as she was told. She walked past the family members. As she went by, their voices rumbled behind her like the girls on the front lawn. "Poor thing. She was Taylor's girlfriend. They were so close..." She ignored them and hurried on. Upstairs, everything was quiet and isolated. She knocked on the girls' door first. Avery opened it.
Her brown eyes widened and she burst into tears. Randy took a step back. She was wearing a dress made of dark green crushed velvet and tights. Despite her pretty clothes, her hair wasn't brushed and there was a bit of food from her last meal on the corner of her mouth. Avery turned and ran back into the room. Jessica came to the door. She looked like her mother, serious and serene, but still heartbreakingly sad. "Hey, Randy."
"Hey, Jess."
"Come in?"
"No," Randy replied. "Brush Avie's hair for her, and wash her face. Your mom says it's almost time to leave."
Jessie nodded, so Randy turned and went to the next door. She knocked. Mackenzie opened it. He looked so handsome in his suit. "Are you ready?" she asked.
"Hi, Randy," he said, then darted past her and out into the hall. She watched him until he disappeared at the stairs. She stepped inside the room. Zac was standing in front of a dresser with a small mirror on top. He was attempting to get his tie straight. He looked frustrated and upset.
"Zac?" she asked. He looked at her.
"Can you help me fix this damned thing?" he asked. She nodded and walked over to help him straighten his tie. After a moment of tugging and adjusting, he was set. He observed himself in the mirror. "How'd you get so good at that?"
"Taylor can't tie a tie for anything. With all the dances I've dragged him to, I've had to learn how to tie them for him so he doesn't look like a fool," she explained. Pain etched itself into Zac's face. She suddenly remembered that he thought Taylor was dead. She thought, Okay, Taylor, I'll play your game. "I'm sorry. I forgot..."
"I know," Zac sniffled. "Yesterday morning I went to get in the shower. I forgot to get a towel so I went to the door and yelled for Taylor to bring me one from the hall closet. I stood there for a few seconds before I realized that nobody was going to bring me a towel. I called for Mac to bring me one instead."
Her eyebrows knit, and she walked over to Taylor's bed. She bounced a bit, enjoying hearing the familiar squeak of bedsprings. She looked at Zac, who was still looking closely at himself in the mirror. She lay down on the bed, and pulled his pillow over her face. The smell of his cologne tingled in her nose. Zac's voice still came through the pillow loud and clear. "Do you think I look like him, Randy?"
Randy put the pillow in her lap and sat up. She studied Zac, who was now staring back at her almost pleadingly. "Well, yeah," she said. "I mean, you don't have the blue eyes, and your jaw is more round. Your mouth is more like your dad's, and your eyebrows are more like your mom's. But I see Taylor there, too."
He smiled a bit, looking as though his heart was being ripped from his chest. "I miss him so much." Randy was surprised when he fell down on his knees at her feet and hugged her legs. His tears dampened her skin through her pantyhose. Her eyes widened, and she nervously stroked his hair.
"We all do, Zac," she said. "We all miss him."
Her voice was stiff, though. She was bitterly thinking that it was awfully mean of Taylor to try to trick people like this; how could he make his own brothers and sister and family and friends cry? She would have to reprimand him for his behavior.
"C'mon," she coaxed. "We've got to get down there."
He looked up at her, his brown eyes full of tears and confusion. "Why aren't you crying, Randy?"
She looked back at him, her blue eyes very dry. Her mouth was dry, too. "I just can't bring myself to let go yet."
His eyes were downcast. "I see," he murmured, before he got to his feet. "Please don't tell anybody I did that," he said. "Especially not Mac. He's really depending on me."
"I understand," she said back, and went out into the hall. The smell of Taylor went from concentrated to a distant smell of a long time ago. He hadn't walked through this hall in five days, she remembered. It wouldn't smell like him after that long. Especially not with all of the other people who were trampling in and out. She walked the rest of the way to the stairs, then crept down them, afraid to draw too much attention to herself.
She stood at the base of the stairs, looking at the teeming swarm of people who had collected. She felt loss in the masses. A hand fell on her shoulder. She didn't even look back, because she knew it was Zac's. He leaned forward and whispered, "I wish they would all just leave."
She nodded, but didn't really know what to say. She eased forward, careful not to allow herself to be swept up by the crowd. It was odd to feel lost in such a familiar and usually cozy house. She was so out of place here, suddenly. Somehow, she made it to the couch. Here, her mother and father sat next to Taylor's parents. Lia sat on the outside of the couch by their mother, her elbow on the armrest, and her chin propped up by her hand. Her eyes were inspecting the room; summing up the people whom even the Hansons' were lucky to recognize. She suddenly spotted Randy, and her eyes grew into large blue platters. She moved as close to the armrest as possible. "You can sit here," she offered.
Randy turned and looked at Zac, whose face was still anguished. "Mom, could you scoot down a little more so that Zac can sit down, too?" Randy asked her mother. Her mother looked from her to Zac, then moved down as far as she could. Randy sat next to Lia, and made room for Zac. He sat down by her. "I've never seen your house more crowded," Randy told him in a measly attempt to make conversation. "I never thought I'd hear myself say that."
Zac nodded. "You spent a lot of time with my brother," he noted.
"Yeah," Randy said.
"I wish I'd have spent more time with him," he confessed. "He'd ask to hang out sometimes. You know, he'd say, 'Hey, Zac, wanna go to the courts and play some one-on-one?' I'd always tell him I was busy or maybe tomorrow. I don't know why I never went with him. He'd shrug and go off to find Jessica or Avery. I took it for granted that there would be a tomorrow to go do that sort of thing."
Randy chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes watering. What if this is real? she suddenly wondered. She quickly shunned the thought, and stopped wringing her hands. Taylor would be here tomorrow. He might be grounded for his antics, but he'd be here. It was something to look forward to. She refused to give in to his juvenile joke. She knew Taylor better than that. He would never leave her.