The horrid day finally came. The day I'd been dreading ever since I was confronted with the morbid news was finally here, right under my very nose. It's strange how you don't notice the tiniest little perfection's of life until your life's about to change. As I was packing up my belongings in my room the previous night, I realized just how convenient and comforting it was to have my best friend there for me all the time. Taylor had always been there right next to me through everything, from when I won first place in a jump rope competition to when my dog Pillsbury died last year due to heart failure. It was then when I realized that once I left him, I wouldn't have anybody to rely on.
As much as I'd like to think that I could, I know I'll never find anybody like Taylor. Sure, he was your normal twelve year old and had his little queer "moments", but he would be the greatest listener when he wanted to. And even when he didn't, he still listened. Take for instance, the little breakdown I had in the treehouse the other night. He was there before the shake of a lamb's tail, and had miraculously made me feel so much better. I then realized what I needed. I needed Taylor…immensely.
Even though it was only one o' clock in the afternoon and I wasn't supposed to be leaving until three or four, I needed to see him. I ran down the stairs and out the door, oblivious to the fact that I'd left the front door wide open in plain view of the neighborhood. The crisp wind chilled my body, but I seemed immune to it as I fled to my best friend's house. When I stepped up to their front door, I contemplated whether I really wanted to do this. Not even taking time to negotiate with myself, I rang the aging doorbell. Even if I had changed my mind, it would have been too late. The door opened a moment later, revealing the angelic face of four-year old Avery. "Hi, Lana," she said, flashing a toothy grin at me. She'd pronounced my name wrong ever since I met her, but it was so cute I decided against changing it.
"Hey, Avie," I greeted the enthusiastic girl, kneeling down so I could make direct eye contact with her. "Is Taylor home?"
"Yeah, he's upstairs with your present," she explained, then realized her mistake. Clamping her hand over her mouth, she squeaked. "Oopsies. Pwease don't tell Tay-Tay."
"Don't worry, I won't," I assured her, patting her on the back before walking upstairs. When I arrived at his bedroom door, I decided against knocking and just walked on in, obviously startling him. He was sitting on his bed reading a magazine, and when the door opened, he fell off the bed, the magazine landing on his head.
I chuckled, and walked over to his covered head, lifting up the magazine like a tent flap. "Fancy meeting you here."
He groaned and sat up, his back cracking in protest. "Very funny, Al. What are you doing here? I thought you were leaving at three."
"Well, I got bored," I lied, hoping it wasn't too obvious.
"Bored?" Tay raised an eyebrow at me questioningly. Okay, maybe it was a tad too obvious. I never was that good at lying. "How can you possibly be bored on the day you're moving?" Damn, he knew me way too well.
I sighed dejectedly, and sat on the floor next to him, brushing the magazine aside. "Taylor, I…I…" I had no clue how to say the words I'd been contemplating for a long time.
"What?" he was now intrigued in what I was stammering about. I was always one to speak my mind openly, but I sure as hell wasn't doing that right now.
"I…I love you," I blurted out. I'd ran over in my head how I was going to say it nearly a thousand times, but not once had the thought crossed my mind about his reaction.
He just stared at me, blinking in utter disbelief. Then he threw his head back and laughed, catching me way off-guard. I was insulted, and very confused. He sensed this, and said, "You know, Al. You could have told me that before the day you're moving away."
I could not believe him. He had no clue how much courage saying those mere three words had taken. Obviously he did have a clue, though. A slight one, at the least, because he replied, "I love you, too." Hearing those words from him sounded like one of the lines from a Shakespeare play. I just wanted to replay those three words over and over again until I died, just letting them fall into my ears gracefully, leaving a slight tingling sensation where they landed. I looked up at him, and he smiled warmly at me, showing no signs of embarrassment or regret.
The feeling I then encountered was the queerest I'd ever felt. I wanted to kiss him, to hold him so badly, but the other part of me just wanted to run out the door and never come back. It's strange how I just confessed my true love for him but now couldn't even work up the mere courage to kiss him. Then…it happened.
I wasn't sure if it was real or if it was fake because I wanted to feel his lips on mine so badly. But when he ran his tongue along my lips, I knew it had to be real. I tried to absorb the feeling of everything from how his lips felt on mine to how his hands felt in my hair, smoothing its tangled mass. I wanted to stay there in his arms forever, but of course we knew that couldn't happen. We were both too practical. When he finally pulled away, he ran his hands alongside my cheek once more before dropping it to his side, where it rightfully belonged. We were both nearly breathless, and had to sit there recollecting our breath for a minute before we could speak. Luckily, we didn't have to say anything because Ike chose that particular moment to walk into the room.
"Tay, have you seen my…oh, hey Al," Ike nodded, acknowledging my presence.
"What are you looking for, Ike? Why have you become so absentminded all of the sudden?" Tay inquired, eyeing his older brother curiously.
"That's not important," Ike brushed the question aside. "I need to find my guitar?"
"Your guitar?" I knew I shouldn't have, but I started cracking up, finding it immensely hilarious. "How'd you manage to lose your freaking guitar?" Then I heard some faint strumming from the next room, followed by one-year-old Mackenzie's delighted squeals. We all turned to each other and said, "Mackie…" Ike then rushed out of the room to save his beloved instrument from his baby brother's grasp.
I shook my head and chuckled briefly at his foolishness and tendency to misplace things. I then noticed a shiny silver package in the corner of the room, and had a faint clue to what it was, thanks to Avery. "What's that?" I pointed in the direction of the neatly wrapped box.
He turned away and quickly replied, "Oh, that's nothing."
"It doesn't look like nothing," I pried in a sing-song voice. I was teasing him and we both knew it.
Taylor sighed dejectedly. "Fine, you got me. It's your going-away present. But you can't open it until you leave. If you open it now, it'll ruin the surprise," he said, a wicked tint to his anxious blue eyes which were enchanted with some spark of magic that overpowered him.
"Humph," I pouted, and looked up at him innocently. He just laughed and shook his head. Then I glanced at my Timex Indiglo watch and realized a very crucial point. "Crap, it's past two. I'd better go."
"Bye," he called nonchalantly over his shoulder as I jogged down the steps. * * *
The time came too soon for when we had to move. We had one hell of a time dragging all of the luggage outside that wasn't going to be in the U-Haul and putting them in the car. Many neighbors, including the Hanson's, gathered at the edge of their driveways to see us off. I smiled to myself. They were actually going to miss us. Either that, or they wanted us to leave A.S.A.P. Anyway, after we were done packing things away in our petite car, I walked over to the Hanson's to bid my farewells.
Hot tears stung the corners of my eyes as I approached them. No, I was not going to cry. Not now. I forced them back and gave Mackie a high five, hugged Jessica and Avery, did a special handshake with Zac, and shared a comforting embrace with Isaac. Then I stood before Taylor. Being right there reminded me how shy I was of his tall frame. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I ran into his arms and hugged him with all my might, burying my face into his golden hair. When I pulled back, I sniffed a few times, and he slipped a package into my hand. I recognized it as the one I'd spotted in his room earlier. I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and one more hug and then reluctantly approached our car, clutching the gift like there was no tomorrow. But for me, there really was no tomorrow. At least in my past life. It was time to move on.
