Chapter 17 - Wait a minute, the sun doesn’t shine out my ass?

Taylor

I watched the interaction between Brooke and Abby through the living room window with heavy apprehension. I could tell by the flirtatious look in Brooke’s eye, she wanted a goodnight kiss. And by the look of pure terror on Abby’s, she could as well.

It was if I’d been watching a movie staring myself. Everything moved in slow motion as Brooke closed her eyes and leaned toward “me” ever so slightly. I could hear the cheesy orchestrated music in the background, playing softly, as it would before erupting into the loud climax of the kiss.

Except there was no kiss.

I gawked out the window with my mouth hanging open. No, I didn’t just see what I thought I saw. My eyes were playing tricks on me or something. Maybe Abby needed new contact lenses with a much, much stronger prescription. Because, there is no possible way that life could hate me with so much intensity to make what I just saw a reality.

She. Shook. Her. Hand.

The look of sheer confusion on Brooke’s face made me want to suffocate myself in a plastic Walmart bag. There was no way in hell that she’d actually want to go out with “me” again. Not after being insulted like this. I wanted to scream in frustration at this point.

Okay, maybe asking Abby to kiss a girl on the lips is a bit much to ask. I can understand that. I’m hardly unreasonable. However, would it have killed her to kiss her on the cheek? Was taking Brooke’s hand and kissing it romantically too much to ask for?

Brooke slowly entered the house and closed the door behind her. I rushed over to her, ready and willing to plead on my knees to give me a second chance. I bit my lip nervously as Brooke just sank onto the floor with a loud thud.

Oh hell, the girl is traumatized now.

“Brooke?” I squeaked, feeling my insides quiver in horror. She would never give me, as a male, the time of day ever again. My life is now officially over... Oh my God, that sounded like something Abby would say. Excuse me, I need to go throw myself in front of a semi.

Suddenly Brooke looked up at me with wide green eyes. “He…didn’t want to... kiss me…”

“Taylor suffers from temporary retardation…” I was desperate. “It’s quite tragic, really. It, uh, comes without warning. It passes eventually though. He probably shouldn’t be driving home…” Maybe I should stop talking.

She slowly stood on her feet again. She took off her jacket and hung it in the enormous front closet, still looking incredibly dazed. I followed her silently, unaware of how exactly I was going to try to rectify this abhorrent situation. But I did know one thing for certain. Abby was going to die a very slow, very painful death.

With leeches. Lots of them.

“I don’t know what to say,” Brooke continued, shaking her head. “I was this close to kissing him and then he backed away and… shook my hand...”

And centipedes. Hairy ones.

“Abby,” Brooke said, grabbing my shoulders suddenly. “He shook my hand.”

“Yes, I noticed.” I wonder if they have a plane that flies to hell? I mean, how else could Abby visit her relatives?

“I’ve never gone out with a guy hasn’t wanted to kiss me, fondle me, or fuck me,” she continued, letting go of me. I was thankful. That girl has quite a grip. “I’ve never... been out with someone so gentlemanly before…”

“WHAT?” I asked, shocked. I was expecting her to fill in the blanks with a less respectable adjective. Something comparable to weird, strange, inept, retarded... You get the point.

“I’m serious!” Brooke exclaimed, breaking out into an infectious grin. “Taylor has got the be the sweetest, most chivalrous boy I’ve ever met! I’ve never been with a guy who didn’t want something extra from me on the first date. I feel, I don’t know, innocent? Girly?”

Horny?

Bad, Taylor! Bad! I mentally slapped myself on the wrists.

“Really?” I asked, grinning from ear to ear. I don’t know how this happened, since what I saw of the date was nothing short of a disaster. I sure wasn’t going to complain though. Someone high up must have felt an immense amount of pity for my pathetic soul.

Brooke gave me another one of her breathtaking smiles. I had to remember to breathe. “Abby, I want to thank you so much for setting this entire date up. I don’t remember ever having this much fun on a first date.”

I wanted to do a cartwheel. Hell, I wanted to do ten. “Don’t thank me. I was my pleasure, I assure you.”

We skipped up to her bedroom, both of us feeling as though we were frolicking through fluffy clouds, lame as it sounds. I had brought a bag in with me from the car filled with toiletries and clothes for the night. Brooke had a giant waterbed in the corner of her room, which I saw fit to throw my bag on.

“I just can’t get over how amazing he was,” Brooke babbled, flopping down back first on her waterbed. I forced myself to ignore the dirty images involving Brooke and her waterbed that immediately popped into my perverted male brain.

“Do tell,” I encouraged, enjoying the “I love Taylor” conversation we were having. Maybe instead of brutally murdering Abby, I’d merely just hit her a couple of times with a steel baseball bat.

“Where do I begin?” Brooke sighed, wistfully. With each sigh I felt more and more compelled to kiss her. “First of all, he wasn’t afraid to be himself. I hate it when guys take me to the most expensive places and the finest shows just because they think I’ll like it! If that’s what they like too, then it’s cool. Generally it’s not though and I LOATHE it when people change themselves or act differently just to try to impress me! I mean, how do they know what’s impressive to me? They have no idea who I am!”

I nodded. “I can relate.” Oh boy, could I!

“And that was the very first thing I liked about him. When he took me to Molly’s, I knew I was actually seeing the real him. Not just some imposter posing as the perfect Taylor.”

I bit my lip. The term “imposter” could be translated in such a wide variety of different meanings... “Um, he was hardly perfect.”

“Yes, he was,” she insisted, grabbing one of her expensive-looking stuffed animals and pulling it close to her. “The lame jokes, the farting conversation, the way he laughed at himself… it was all perfect! I can’t believe how badly I misjudged him!”

“Oh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You judged him badly?”

She looked at me guiltily. “Yeah, and it was obviously my mistake! I don’t know, the first impression I got from him was nothing more than that he was this pretentious asshole who thought the sun shined out of his ass. To me it seemed as though he thought he was above everyone and everything in school, like he was too good to be there or something. I hate boys like that.”

Wait a minute, the sun doesn’t shine out my ass?

Kidding. I swear I’m just kidding.

“You really got that impression from him?” I asked, in a small voice. Did I actually act pretentious in school? I didn’t want to be there, no argument in that, but it was because I don’t like people staring at and talking about me. It has nothing to do with being in love with myself.

“In the beginning of the year, yes.”

My heart sunk. I had been myself then. If she knew the real me, would she be disappointed? If I had been myself tonight, I would have taken her to The Singing Dolphin, then to The Perplexed Octopus, and then I would have kissed her goodnight. If she’d have let me, I probably would have done more than just kiss her.

I most certainly wouldn’t have dragged her to some cheap diner, made horrendous jokes, discussed flatulence with my brother, or made an ass of myself on the dance floor. And damn it, I sure wouldn’t have shook her hand goodnight.

Maybe I am a pretentious asshole.

“Abby? Are you okay?” Brooke asked, touching my shoulder gently. “You look sick.”

“Sure.” Oh God, Abby is more charming and likeable than I am! Is that… possible? Abby B. Deluca, where the B stands for Bitch of the Millennia, is more enjoyable to be around than I am. It must be thirty-two degrees in hell.

“Are you sure? Your fainting spell tonight scared the life right out of me,” Brooke exclaimed, sincerely.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I lied. Honestly, I’m a great liar. “I think it was the heat that got to me.”

I hate myself.

I felt another stab of guilt in the middle of my chest. All I did was lie to this girl, who I really care about, about everything. The truth was that the fainting spell had been an act of pure desperation. I saw that Abby was making a complete jackass of me and I needed to make the agony of watching myself dancing cease immediately. Of course, my selfish desire to help myself only caused her to worry.

And I still can’t get over that Abby is more fun than me.

“Well, I think Zac is adorable,” Brooke began, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

I feel the urge to vomit. My brother is about as “adorable” as a baboon’s ass. “He’s annoying. He thinks he’s a laugh riot.”

“You guys look good together,” Brooke insisted, giving me a look. “I don’t know why you’d say something like that. I can tell that behind his playful personality there’s a very loving side to him.”

Yes, that loving side of him is otherwise known as the “I love to fuck my brother over” side.

“Oh, he’s a dreamboat all right,” I muttered, picking at the hem of my skirt. “He sucked his thumb till he was eleven.” Brooke burst out laughing. “I swear it! The only reason he stopped was because we started to get famous then and he didn’t want the world to know that he was a thumb-sucker.” That will teach the callous runt to try to mess with me.

“We?”

Shit. “I said they.”

Brooke winked. “You said we.”

Damn her for being so observant. “Did I? I meant to say they.”

“I have an idea,” Brooke exclaimed, excitedly. “Why don’t we change into our pajamas, raid the refrigerator, and spend the rest of the night watching movies!”

My stomach rumbled in agreement. “Sounds like a plan.”

***

Brooke had an excellent DVD collection. Not that that was surprising, but I think she owned practically every DVD ever made. I’m a big fan of movies, almost as big of a fan as Isaac, so I leapt at the chance to have an enormous collection at my fingertips. My older brother has an unnatural fetish for anything entertaining and electronic. Put him next to a Playstation and he won’t even pause for bathroom breaks. I’ve actually seen him hold it for as long as twelve hours.

“Have you picked one yet?” Brooke asked, from the other side of the room. Yes, she had an entire room dedicated to her DVD and CD collections. This room would have been Isaac’s wet dream.

“Almost.” I continued searching patiently. There were so many good choices that it was hard to select just once. “If you already have yours, we can watch yours first.”

“Nah, you’re my guest!” She insisted, waving a hand at me. “Take your time. I’ll go check on the popcorn.”

I smiled and returned my attention to the DVD’s. Within moments, I had found one that struck my fancy. I’d wanted to see it in theaters but hadn’t had the chance to actually go. Brooke returned into the room with an enormous bowl of steaming popcorn.

“What’d you pick?” She asked, flopping down on the couch in the entertainment room and flipping on the 60-inch television. That’s right, her television had a 60-inch screen. The thought of watching Star Wars on it makes me salivate like a Saint Bernard.

I held my selection up proudly.

“The Gangs of New York?” She asked, her nose scrunching slightly. She immediately caught herself and her expression became unreadable. “I didn’t know you liked violent, historical movies. You like action flicks, huh?” I could tell she really didn’t want to watch this but was too polite to say so.

“Oops! I picked up the wrong one!” I lied, setting it down quickly. I wouldn’t want her to think I wasn’t feminine or anything. God forbid a girl likes a good, old-fashioned blood and gore movie. I aimlessly picked another movie beside it. “I meant to grab this one…ugh...”

Damn me. Damn me to an eternity in hell.

“EEE!!! DIRTY DANCING!” Brooke screeched, nearly dropping the bucket of popcorn. “I haven’t seen that in forever! I absolutely love that movie!”

I batted my eyelashes and forced myself not to regurgitate all over myself. “Oh my God, Brooke, who doesn’t?”

Brooke put in the movie and turned off all the lights. We sat down together on the couch and I couldn’t help but feel how our arms innocently brushed one another’s. It sent electricity shooting through my entire body. The way the light from the television screen illuminated her beautiful face was enough to make me forget there was even a movie playing.

Whoever wrote/directed this movie should be shot. This was inhumane torture. Not only was it corny and ridiculous, but Jennifer Grey’s nose was really getting on my nerves. What was Patrick Swayze thinking?

“I love this part!” Brooke exclaimed, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. I looked down at the bucket and smiled. I was too busy trying to pick out all the things I hated in this movie to realize there was food nearby. And within reaching distance!

“Me too!” I grabbed a handful and shoved it in my mouth. I began chewing the popcorn before I realized there was something a bit off. Gagging, I spit out the half-chewed popcorn into a napkin and looked at Brooke questioningly. “What’s wrong with your popcorn?”

Brooke sighed. “It’s fat-free, no sodium, low-carb popcorn. My stepmother won’t let any other kind into the house.” She grimaced. “As soon as she married my dad, she felt the need to cleanse the house of anything she deemed inappropriate.”

I suddenly wished I hadn’t fed Zac all six of the chilidogs I had bought.

“That sucks,” I replied, taking a small handful. I didn’t want her to feel bad if I didn’t eat anything. I prayed that after awhile I’d get used to the stale, flavorless taste. It was like eating Styrofoam. “Have you tried talking to your dad?”

Brooke snorted ruefully. “What’s the point? He doesn’t give two shits about me. He’s more concerned with his damn dick.” She shoved another handful of the popcorn into her mouth angrily. I decided not to push her. If she wanted to talk to me about this kind of stuff, she’d let me know. The last thing I’d want to do is piss her off.

“And I’ve… had… the time of my life…”

“Is it over?” I asked, hopefully. There was only so much a man could take.

Brooke sighed and turned off the DVD. “I’m afraid so. But fear not, you’re going to love my choice!”

Oh, the anticipation is killing me.

As is the vision, that’s stuck in my head, of Patrick Swayze doing the mambo.

She quickly put on the other DVD and I felt my stomach lurch. I didn’t know what it was yet, but it began with a discussion of a painting and… damn it, it’s a Cinderella story.

“Have you ever seen Ever After?” Brooke asked, turning to face me. I shook my head and feigned interest.

Have I not suffered enough for one night?

Thankfully, I fell asleep during this one. Brooke elbowed me a couple of times and threw popcorn at me once, but I couldn’t fight the boredom any longer. First of all, Drew Barrymore is ugly and the prince in this movie is insipid. And he’s wearing tights, which only make my eyes scream out for mercy.

My ribs were poked roughly and my eyes opened ruefully. Brooke was peering at me, with a light smile on her face, and thankfully the movie was no longer on the large screen. I breathed a hefty sigh of sweet relief.

“Ready for bed?”

As soon as the hormones calmed themselves, I was okay to reply without revealing my innermost desires. “Yeah, I’m beat.”

We made it up to her bedroom quickly. My insides, meanwhile, were squirming anxiously. Even though I was sleeping on the floor, I would still be in the same room as Brooke for the night, completely alone. The very thought made me want to erupt in a happy dance of pure joy.

“Do you have a sleeping bag I could borrow?” I asked, after a big yawn. I didn’t feel like dragging one with me, especially because Brooke could house an entire army comfortably within her mansion.

Brooke cocked her head to the side. “A sleeping bag? You can just sleep with me in my gigantic waterbed. Why would you sleep on the floor?”

Jesus loves me! This I know, for the Bible tells me so; Little ones to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me! Yes, Jesus loves me! Yes, Jesus loves me! The Bible tells me so.

“Do you not want to share a bed with me?” She asked, noticing my vacant expression. She pulled the comforter off and sat down on the sheets. “If you feel uncomfortable...”

“Would you prefer the right or the left side?” I asked, eagerly. I literally jumped onto the bed and let Brooke’s satin sheets engulf my tired body. They smelled like vanilla and heaven and felt so soft I thought my skin was going to melt off. She pulled the comforter over us both and turned to face me.

“Comfy, isn’t it?”

“YES.”

She sighed and stretched her limbs. I physically ached to touch her. “I couldn’t imagine anything feeling better than this.”

I grinned wickedly to myself. I could.

It seems as though the stimulating Dirty Dancing has brought out my perverted side.

“Do you have enough pillows?” She asked.

If I need more, I’ll use your gorgeous breasts.

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” I replied, staring into her beautiful green eyes. Oh, to be a boy at his moment. My kingdom for a penis.

“Ugh, I cannot sleep in bras,” she muttered, sitting up suddenly. I watched in utter fascination as she unhooked her bra and removed it from underneath her t-shirt. She chucked it to the other side of the room and laid back down contently.

This was definitely my kind of woman.

“I wonder if he’s thinking of me,” Brooke whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. “I just cannot get his face out of my head.” I grinned happily. I just knew she was referring to me.

“I can honestly say he is.”

She looked at me with a small smile. “I really like him.”

“He likes you too.” God, I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to tell her that I was really Taylor and that I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I wanted to tell her that all I wanted was to be with her and to be able to whisper all the indecent things that were running through my head in her perfect ear.

“Goodnight, Abby.”

I sighed. “Goodnight, Brooke.

Something tells me that I won’t be getting much sleep tonight.