Chapter 3 - Yes, they’re REALLY leather pants!

TAYLOR

I have now completed my first torturous week at the infamous Dayton Academy. Though I’ve managed to avoid Tony the Tiger and his insidious posse, my experiences there have been less than worthwhile.

I have scored perfectly on each one of my tests and quizzes. Feel free to applaud. I do believe this “school thing” is just a major waste of time and I cannot fathom why Mom would make me waste my time by suffering there for six hours every weekday. My teachers are practically morons, except for Ms. Tulley, just because they show such blatant favoritism to the athletes of the school. They pass them just so they can throw a dirty pigskin around on some grass. The very notion that these delinquents are going to be the future of America makes me completely nauseous.

I have participated in absolutely nothing in school. I speak to no one besides Ashley and Eric, and even sometimes try to avoid conversation with them. They just don’t understand me. Nobody does. Everyone stares at me like I’m some sort of two-headed circus freak and I know they talk about me. Hormonally charged underclassmen females stalk me to every class, hoping I drop a piece of paper or that a hunk of lint will somehow jump out of my pocket and land on them. In Spanish class, some loony chick ripped a strand of my hair out as a souvenir.

Freak.

The only high point of my petty, depressing day is in English when I get to gaze at the lovely Brooke Thompson. She was extraordinarily quiet and wasn’t exactly the nicest person towards young males, but hey, everyone needs a flaw. I was bound and determined to get to know her better. I wouldn’t allow one little hint of rejection to possibly get me down or make me believe I had no chance with this angel.

“Tay, honey?” Mom asked, knocking softly on the bedroom door that Ike, Zac and I shared. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

She walked in and sat on the bed with a concerned sigh. Uh oh, this couldn’t be good.

“What are you doing?” She asked me, peering out my window into the vast yard. The closest house to us was over a mile away for personal safety reasons.

“Nothing, why?”

“Exactly. Do you know that it is seven-thirty on a Saturday night?” She questioned. I nodded. Was she getting to a point?

“Uh, yeah. The fact hasn’t escaped me.”

Mom smiled. “What are you doing home? Don’t you think you should call some of your new friends at school and maybe go out and do something tonight?”

I grit my teeth in a mixture of a forced smile and a wince. “I don’t have any NEW friends, Mom. You know that. They all think I’m the weird new kid. No one wants to talk to me except whiny little girls. And I refuse to spend more time than necessary with them.”

“What about Eric and Jason? They’re your friends, aren’t they?”

I fought the urge to scream. “I see them everyday. I just don’t feel like going out. Then I’ll have to get a disguise and sign autographs and stuff. I’d rather stay here in the comforts of my own home in the company of my lovely mother. Is that so wrong?”

“Zac and Isaac never feel the need to wear “disguises.” Why do you?” Mom asked, putting a hand on my knee to put me more at ease. It only made me more jittery.

“They don’t get accosted like I do.”

“How do you know?” Mom questioned, pointing a finger at me. “When was the last time you went out with them? Taylor, I’m really getting sick and tired of this worn tale of pity and laziness! I want you to get out of this house right now. I don’t care what you do or who with, but you’d better get out of here before eight o’clock or I’ll make you go to therapy and this time I mean it. I have the doc’s number right in my pocket and I am not afraid to use it.”

I groaned mournfully but she wouldn’t hear my cry. “Mom…” I began to protest, but the phone’s high pitched ring silenced me.

“Hello?” Mom asked, never removing her unnerving stare from me. She turned and grinned wickedly. “Taylor? Yes, he’s here. Hang on a second, Jason.”

I muttered a curse as I grabbed the phone with disgust. “Yeah?”

“Tay, man! I’m so glad you’re home!” Ashley exclaimed, sounding unusually excited. “I have the news that will rock your world, my man!”

“What’s that?” I asked, with less than enthusiasm.

“I managed to finagle a couple of invites to the illustrious Brooke Thompson’s party of the year! Are you in or what?” He practically shouted, giddily.

“Wait a minute, how did a bloke like you get an invitation to Brooke’s?” I asked, a little skeptical of the entire situation. “Isn’t that pretty high society?”

“It doesn’t matter how I got it!” He insisted, quickly. “All that matters is that we dress to kill and get us some ladies! Come on, man. Don’t make me take Eric. He’ll repel all the hotties!”

I looked at my mother, who was giving me the evil eye. “All right. What time?”

“Eight! Oh, man! This is going to be so freaking sweet!” Ashley remarked. “Make sure you dress good, okay?” I tried not to laugh. Here was the school’s laziest, smelliest, dirtiest guy giving me advice about dressing up. Ah, what I could teach the guy.

“So you’re going to a party, hmm?” Mom questioned, delighted. “That sounds like fun, doesn’t it? It seems you’ve gotten in tighter than you thought with the kids in the school. Stay out as late as you want, but be smart. Understand? Don’t you dare touch a drop of alcohol, you hear me? You do and I promise that breathing will become a chore.”

“Mom…” I whined, pushing her out the door. “Get out so I can get dressed, will you?” As I shut the door behind her, I couldn’t help but feel a little excited. I was going to Brooke’s house. Sure, she had no intention on inviting me herself, but I would be in her house nonetheless. The outcome was deliciously the same.

Ah, what to wear? I definitely wanted to impress. I rummaged through my closet to happily find a pair of black leather pants and a snug-fitting black t-shirt. Black was always a classy way to go, and I’ve been told that it looks good on me. After dousing myself in cologne, tousling my hair so it had a shaggy, messy look to it, and brushing my teeth twice with the mintiest toothpaste I could find, I decided I was ready to go. About ten minutes after I’d completed my transformation from a sloppy looking boy to a polished, damn fine smelling fellow, I heard Ashley’s blaring horn blasting from the driveway.

“Damn, Hanson, I hope you don’t hog all the ladies tonight!” Ashley exclaimed, whistling at my outfit. “Are those really leather pants?”

“Yes, they’re REALLY leather pants!” I exclaimed, grinning. I was in an especially good mood suddenly, and Ashley’s idiocy wasn’t nearly as stifling as usual. “And besides, I only want one girl.”

“Yeah, yeah, Brooke!” He replied, the tires screeching as we turned the corner. I clutched my seatbelt in fear. “But seriously, if you wanted you could totally get some ass tonight!”

“From Brooke?” I asked, hopefully.

He shot me a look. “No, sorry man. But from any other girl in the entire school, I’d bet you’d have no problem with.”

“Nah, they’d be a waste of my time.”

“Are you kidding me?” He exclaimed, laughing. “You could get so much pussy if you put in even the tiniest bit of effort! Come on, Tay, how much have you gotten? Were they foreign chicks?”

I tried not to gag. “Ash, it’s none of your damn business. I’m not going to kiss and tell.”

“Come off it, Hanson! This is what guys do! Guys tell each other dirty stories about women they’ve screwed! Tay, I know you have a soft spot for women so why are you refusing to confide in your best friend?” He grinned at me pathetically. “We’ll be there in two minutes. Just tell me shit until we get there, okay?”

“Why are you so insistent on butting in on my private life?” I asked, determined to tell him absolutely nothing.

He stared at the road for a minute before answering. “It’s stupid really.”

“So tell me and let me decide exactly how stupid you are.”

He smiled. “Okay, I want you to tell me so I could use your approach. I mean, women are drawn to you like nothing I’ve ever seen and I just wanted to feed off your energy. Girls think I’m such a reject. They never take me seriously and therefore, I get no action.”

“You want help on getting sex?” I asked skeptically. I hoped to God that Brooke’s house was quickly approaching because this conversation was crossing a very serious line.

“No…” he trailed off. “Well, kind of. I don’t just want sex. I want to meet some girls and have a good time. My problem is that every time I get around possible flings, I freeze up and totally blow my chances with them. Do you have any lines that work? I mean, how do you get women to fall all over themselves when you’re around?”

“Sell millions of records and you’ll have women falling senselessly at your feet,” I retorted, blandly looking out the window. “It’s not ME they’re after. They’re after Taylor Hanson from Hanson, international pop star. They want the pouty face on the cd cover. They want the witty musician from MTV. They do NOT want Tay, the coffee addict and social outcast.”

Ashley remained silent for the rest of the ride to Brooke’s mansion. When we got there, I all but choked on my saliva. There were so many people there, and the place was absolutely enormous. Music was blaring and I highly doubted I’d ever find Brooke in the mass of people.

We entered, giving the front man in black our invitations. People were covering the expensive chairs and making out on couches. Alcohol was pouring out of a keg into the glass of Frank Keller and cigarette smoke contaminated the air. Scantily clad women were grinning sexily at me, obviously heavily intoxicated already. Wow, it was only eight-thirty and nearly everyone was already plastered.

I grabbed a cup and poured myself a glassful of alcohol. Ah, it was nicely chilled. But anything less than perfect would be intolerable in Brooke Thompson’s house. I still couldn’t find her anywhere.

“Hi, Taylor!” Tiffany exclaimed, waving sweetly. I couldn’t help but take notice of her bikini top and Versaci short shorts. She was twisting her blonde hair around her finger while Uma, the girl walking with her, stared down at me with contempt. She was practically a man in my mind, since she was the first girl I’d ever met that was taller than me and her voice was deep, but silky. She had brown, chocolate colored hair that fell straight to her shoulder. If she didn’t have such a dreadful puss on her face all the time, she might have been attractive.

“Hey,” I replied, without much interest. All I knew was that she was friends with Brooke. She may prove to be useful in the future.

“Ugh, how did YOU get in?” Uma sneered, sipping on her beverage. She had vodka, since she was far above drinking beer. “I didn’t think that has-beens were on the invitation list.”

“Ah, don’t act like you aren’t glad to see me, Sweetness,” I drawled, teasing her. I’m a has-been, huh? She narrowed her eyes at me.

“You are such vermin.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Is that your pet name for me?” I had no idea why this girl hated me but I seemed to be really good at pissing her off. “Just keep pretending you don’t want me. Maybe someday you’ll convince yourself you don’t feel those insistent pangs of lust whenever you look at me…”

“You disgusting, vile piece of…”

“I like your pants, Taylor,” Tiffany cooed, slyly creeping up against me. She felt my ass while giggling. “They’re real, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.” I took another swig of beer.

She backed away from me. “Act a little more disinterested, will you?” She asked, sarcastically. I grinned cockily.

“Tiff, let’s go. I’m getting nauseas,” Uma muttered, turning her nose up at me. “I’ve had enough of these high school boys!”

“I always figured you’d be more into girls with that butch look you’ve decided to go with,” I retorted, causing Ashley to snicker at the lesbian innuendo. Uma turned around and gave me the dirtiest look.

“You’ll pay for that one, Hanson. You’ll never be accepted. I’ll make sure everyone knows what a has-been loser you really are. That’s if anyone possibly NEEDS to be told.” Her grin intensified as she noticed the dark look on my face. “Ooh, that touches a soft spot, doesn’t it?”

“Come on, Tay,” Ashley commented, softly. He pulled me away from the glaring contest Uma and I were participating in. “Don’t let that bitch get you down. She just wants to get to you for some reason. Don’t let her do it, man.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then let’s find us some ladies and get our swerve on!” He shouted, bursting out into some psychotic spasm. I just shook my head and laughed.

For the next hour, I had to admit that I had a pretty swell time at this party. I met a lot of college women, who were more than agreeable to the prospect of talking to a boy in high school. In the back of mind I knew they only associated with me because of my fame, but it was nice to allow myself to wallow in superficiality for a while.

“Um, Taylor?” An energetic voice asked, tapping me on the shoulder. Tiffany was smiling sweetly at me, flipping her hair over her shoulder flirtatiously. The smoke was practically flaring out of the women’s noses that I had been talking to previously. I’ve noticed women tend to be a little on the possessive side at times.

“Hey, Tiff. What’s up?” I asked, casually. Tiffany liked me. I could smell it. The others could as well, judging by the look of extreme provocation on their faces.

“I was wondering if you wanted to dance with me,” she began, twirling her hair. “The beat’s pretty phat and you weren’t dancing so I was wondering if you wanted to.”

“Sure,” I replied. I turned to wave at my entourage of college women, who looked slightly peeved at the news of my departure. “Thank you for the lovely conversation.”

Tiffany pulled me out onto the area designated as the dance floor and I was amazed by the sexual gyrations she performed on me. She was trying her hardest to arouse me, with all that lip licking and bottom lip biting, but my eyes wandered fiercely in search of Brooke. This was her party, wasn’t it? Where the hell was she?

“Who are you looking for?” Tiffany asked, slightly perturbed her actions weren’t working. She continued to grind her hips against mine, and needless to say, I am still a red-blooded American boy and I couldn’t say I was exactly repulsed by it. She was definitely hot…very tan and lean. She looked very healthy and athletic, not pin straight and emaciated like Uma. Uma was pale with straight brown hair with no volume in it whatsoever. She looked like one of those exotic foreign models, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. She looks like she just got out of Auschwitz.

“No one in particular,” I replied, blatantly lying.

“I think you’re really hot, Taylor,” she exclaimed, forgetting my reply immediately. She rubbed her entire body against me. “I think you and I would go well together, you know. You wanna get a room upstairs or something?”

Whoa, now. Isn’t this quite the predicament? This girl is practically salivating on me and she’s so needy. It’s almost a turn off. Yeah, she was a good-looking girl, but did I really want to have sex with her? No, I’m not a virgin but that didn’t mean I’d fuck any girl willing.

“I hardly know you,” I replied, looking desperately for Brooke. “Wouldn’t that be kind of awkward?”

“Not if you don’t make it that way,” she explained, placing her hands on her hips. “This isn’t my first time so you don’t have to get all paranoid about popping my cherry or whatever.”

“Somehow I didn’t think you were a virgin…”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Let’s just dance and see where it takes us, okay?” I offered, extending my hand. She extended it and I twirled her around to some unknown rap song. In no time she seemed to forget our conversation and just giggled feverously. When she wasn’t giggling, she was filling our cups with more alcohol. She was downright smashed while I was still in tipsy mode.

“Brooke!” Tiffany screeched, bouncing up and down, waving enthusiastically at her friend. My head immediately jolted up, excited to finally see her. When I did, I’m pretty sure I started to drool all over myself. She came down the stairs slowly, confidently and the whole room just sort of stopped and stared in complete awe. She was wearing this amazingly tight red, sparkly dress with a plunging neckline and a short skirt. There was so much leg…they seemed to go on for hours.

“Wow,” I murmured, as Tiffany continued to bounce up and down (and nearly out of her bikini) to receive Brooke’s attention. I stopped dancing since movement was suddenly too complex at the moment.