"Jesus, what happened?" I said, shocked at the sight. "Are you okay? Come in!"
When she walked in, I shut the door, and she fell into my arms. Just crying and crying.
"What's going on?" My mother said, coming down the stairs. I gave her a bewildered expression, and she approached cautiously. Annissa looked up at her for a moment when my mother placed a hand on her shoulder, but didn't say a word. "Oh gosh, honey! What happened?" Annissa's sobbing increased, and I held her tighter as she shook her head from side to side. My mother's face contorted into one of concern, the kind of concerned face that only a mother can wear. "You're soaked, let me go get you some dry clothes..." She said, and quickly walked into the other room.
"Did you walk here?" I said, as Annissa calmed slowly.
She sniffed thickly and nodded. "Where's your bathroom?"
"Right over there." I said, pointing to a door down the hall. She sniffed again and pulled away from me, shutting herself behind the bathroom door.
"What happened?" My mother whispered to me, now returned with dry clothes that belonged to my sister.
"I don't know." I said, "She just showed up like this. She hasn't said a word. Just cried."
"Well, you tell her to stay here tonight. I'll go make up the guest bed and get her an ice pack for that eye."
I nodded, and knocked gently on the bathroom door. "Ani? I have some dry clothes for you."
"Okay," she said softly. She opened the door and I handed them to her.
"My Mom's setting up the guest bed so you can stay the night."
She nodded, and I smiled at her because I couldn't think of what else to do. She smiled back, and I began to walk away.
"Wait... Taylor." She called. I turned. "Can... can I stay with you?"
"Well, I guess..." I said, shrugging, "I don't have an extra bed or anything. I mean, I guess we could pull in the extra mattress..."
"No." She said, "With you."
"You mean... like... in my bed?"
"Yes. It's just... I-I don't want to sleep alone."
Before I knew what I was saying, I had already said "Okay." She closed the door and my head was swimming. The prospect of her sharing a bed with me completely frightened me. It took all of my strength not to bang on the door and tell her I changed my mind. I hadn't shared a bed with anyone that I wasn't related to, ever. Not in all the twenty two years of my life. Not even with old girlfriends and fuck buddies. My bed was always exclusively mine. Sharing was for family and people in love. Sleep was so vulnerable. What if I snored, or drooled, or rolled over and crushed her? I am a restless sleeper. I knew that, my brothers told me so. What if I unintentionally pushed her off the bed? Or hurt her? What if I started talking in my sleep, or I had a nightmare? What if I woke up with morning wood, would she notice? Would she take it wrong and not like me anymore? I couldn't control what happened when I slept, and that was the scariest part about it. I was afraid that maybe she'd see something in me that she hated and I wouldn't even know it. I couldn't lose this friend. She was the only one I had.
I was in deep thought when she emerged, and the touch of her hand in mine startled me.
"Are you okay?" She smiled.
"Yeah...yeah. Uhh... I was just thinking... if you want to take the bed, I can sleep on the floor..."
"Taylor..." She looked confused, and a little hurt. "If you're not comfortable with this... just tell me, okay?"
My hands were shaking, so I gripped her tighter to hide my anxiety. To no avail. She noticed. She always noticed.
"Taylor, why are you so nervous?"
"I've never shared a bed before." I admitted, shyly. "What if something happens?"
She smiled, "This is what's bothering you? Taylor, we're going to be asleep. Nothing will happen."
"You don't know that! What if I'm weird when I sleep? What if I kick you, or grab you...?"
"Then it's okay. Don't worry about it, okay? Listen... if you really don't want me to I can stay in the guest room... it's just..." She sighed, "I just... I just want to be near you."
"I do, too."
"Then, what are you so afraid of?"
"I-I... I'm not even sure."
"Well, let's go upstairs, okay? And we'll decide then."
Upstairs I let go of her hand to get the extra pillow out of Zac's room. I clutched the pillow for a moment, covered in Ninja Turtles and smelling completely vague - devoid of life - and for a moment - I felt like I was going to start crying. Bubble over and just cry. But I shook it out of my head. It wasn't important. Pillows don't smell like people for very long. Maybe it was better this way.
I returned to my room, which smelt intensely of stale cigarettes, and it was dirty. I hadn't cleaned in months. Generally, I'm not a terribly messy person, but my room was a sty. I was quietly ashamed when I handed her the pillow and settled in next to her. She had been here only once before, and I felt as if I left a consistent bad impression of my personal habits. I must have appeared like such a lazy slob.
"I'm sorry it's so messy."
"Forget it, Tay." She shrugged, "I don't give a damn what your room looks like."
"I'm normally much cleaner..."
"I know..."
There was a long silence and I looked her in the eyes, one outlined black and blue with a bruise on her opposite cheek. "So are you going to tell me what happened?"
She shook her head, "It's not important."
"You're hurt. It is important."
She was crying again, and she shifted in bed to grab my box of tissues. I reached toward her face to touch her and wipe her tears away, but she flinched. "Seriously, Ani... what happened? You don't show up at someone's house for refuge if it's not important."
She sighed, hesitating, and then finally giving in. "My Dad and I had a fight... He doesn't want me to see you anymore."
"Your father did this?" I was too astounded to even process the second part of the sentence. "How... how could he? He gave you that?"
"Taylor... just..." She wriggled away from my prying fingers and sat up, not facing me.
"Annissa, we have to call the police, or the domestic affairs people... or someone..."
"No!" She said. "No! He doesn't normally hit me..."
"Oh, so what? It was the first time so it's okay now?"
"This is why I didn't want to tell you. See? It's not important, okay? I just wanted to let you know that I might not be seeing you for a while. Until this all blows over, anyway..."
"Christ, Ani. You're running away from him. Just admit it to yourself. This isn't about not seeing me, or you wouldn't be sitting here, would you?"
"Taylor..."
"No! There's no reason. None." I got up. "I'm calling. And if you don't let me, my parents will..."
"Taylor!" She grabbed my arm. "Taylor! Stop it. Fuck you! God, you don't even understand! You're not even trying!"
I was infuriated, hurt, sad. "Since when are you the victim? I thought you were strong and confident! A strong and confident person doesn't let a bully push them around. If this is how he tells you that you can't see me anymore... then... then I don't know how to tell you to stay." Tears started to run down my cheeks. I hastily swiped them away. This wasn't fair. She was supposed to be the strong one.
"You can't call the police!" She squealed. "I'm 18! I'm too old to be sent off to a foster home! I have nothing left, Taylor. I have no family! I can't pay rent with my pay. No way. I can barely pay for my fucking car insurance! At least I have a roof to sleep under! He may be a drunk, but he's my fucking father."
"You have me! You have this roof! You don't have to pay for anything if you live with me!"
"And what? Become a part of your big happy family at the cost of mine? Should I just move into Zac's room and pretend I'm your sister? I'm not his replacement!"
I growled and turned to slam my fist into the wall. "No!" Tears coated my face. "No! No! You're wrong! You're not listening to me!"
"Well you're not listening to me, either..."
"I heard what you said." I turned on my heel and walked into my bathroom shutting the door in her face. My hand immediately found the side of the sink to hold onto as I sobbed. She was silent on the other side of the door. I wondered what she was thinking.
"Listen..." She said, finally. "I didn't mean it, okay? It's just... it's just that it's so easy for you to say these things, Taylor. You have so many brothers and sisters and two parents who love you. My Dad loves me too, he's just not always the nicest person. I'm moving out soon... you know. As soon as I get the money, and a student loan. It's only for a little while. I just have to finish high school, and I won't have to live with him. I can't send him away. He's the only family I've got. We need each other. Please... just please try to understand that. Even though it sounds stupid, just try."
"I don't hurt those I need." I said.
"Yes, you do." She said, "You do it in different ways."
We were silent for a few minutes, and I heard her sigh softly and walk away from the door. Shortly afterward, I heard my mother's voice.
"Oh there you are! Gosh, what on earth happened to you? I brought you an ice pack for your eye, and the guest bed is all set..."
I started the shower so I didn't have to listen to them talk. I felt like the world was off balance. She wasn't allowed to hurt. That was my job. She was the beacon of optimism and perfect light that fixed everything. The fact that I didn't eat. The fact that my mother slept all day. The fact that Isaac never left the basement. The fact that my sister had begun to make a habit of disappearing from the house, without notice or explanation, for days at a time. All I wanted, more than anything in the world, was to just turn it all off. To hit the stop button and rearrange the board. Like cheating at chess. I couldn't decide if I was angry at her, him, myself, or just sad. Why did she come to me? I was useless. So steeped in my own depression, I couldn't even see her's. And even after all of the thinking and crying and wondering about it, 'Unfair' was the only word I could think of to sum it all up.
When I exited the bathroom, dressed in a T-shirt and boxers for bed, she was waiting for me with an ice pack held to her face.
"Your Mom gave it to me. I told her I was sleeping in here, if that's still okay with you."
"I want to hate you." I said.
She looked hurt. Like she was about to start crying.
I sat down next to her. "Don't. You know what I mean."
"No, Taylor..." She said, "I don't know what you mean."
I sighed, softly. "I feel like I break everything I touch. I want to hate you, so that I won't hurt you. I want to kick you out of my house into the cold and forget about you. But I can't. I've only known you for two months and you've been the best friend I've ever had. Maybe it is better if we stop."
"Don't be stupid." She said, "This has nothing to do with you."
"It has everything to do with me."
"You could never hurt me." She said. "Nothing you could do could ever hurt me."
"You obviously don't know me as well as I thought." I said, and lie down in my bed. "I hurt everyone."
"No." She said, "You just hurt yourself."
I crawled under the covers, and raised the sheets for her to join me. She slid in beside me, and we both settled ourselves against our pillows. I turned off the light, and for a long time we were silent.
"Tay..."
"Yeah?"
"I want to cry."
"Then cry."
"It hurts. Everything hurts. The world is too mean for me."
I moved closer to her and put my arm around her, pulling her close to me, tightly. "Then cry."
"You make me feel so safe." She whispered, and those were the last words she said before she fell asleep. I stared at the ceiling for a long time, listening to the gentle rise and fall of her breath. As I drifted off, I swore I could hear her crying.
Things happened fast after that. She slept at my house for the rest of the week, and every morning I woke up to her playing with my hair. For the first time since I met her, I noticed how green her eyes were. We spent time with my family. Annissa, baking with my Mom while I played video games with my little brother. He annihilated me in Halo. I was disappointed in myself, having been substantially better at the game on tour. I showed her the infamous tree house at our childhood home. I showed her the studio, as well. Slowly, I was allowing her to become something that wasn't separate from my family. My mother showed her some of our childhood photo albums (the kind with naked baby photos), and she hung on every word. We were nearly straight that week, with the exception of the ritual toke we took before we went to bed, and after most everyone in my family was asleep. We didn't talk about what had happened much, but it was constantly on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to ask. I wanted to know, so badly. But I didn't want to destroy what felt like our perfect week. I was beginning to get used to having her around.
When Monday rounded the corner, she set the alarm early for school.
"Would you like me to drive you?" I said.
"Yeah." She said, "That would be nice."
"I could pick you up, too if you want."
"I'll probably just walk to work, it's no big deal. I should probably go home, as well."
"Okay..." I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Her eye looked better, but it was nowhere near healed. "I'm always here if you need me. You can stay anytime."
"Sure." She said, smiling. She stood up, rummaging through a pile of dirty laundry. I was admiring her, for the first time seeing her.
"You're so small." I blurted. "I want to like, put you in a cute dress and take you to Sunday School."
"You can only do that if you wear all black, all leather and don't shower for a few days." Was her smug response.
She was one of those girls - small, petite, and skinny elegant - like a model. Her jeans hung low on her hips, and my T-shirts were just a little bit too big for her. Her hair was always tied up into a messy bun, but it was bone straight and beautiful, next to her strong angular features. She was the most distinctively beautiful person I had ever seen in my whole life. Magazine beautiful, but not in a plain way. In an intense way. She was the type of girl who looked at you, and it made you feel as if she was staring into your soul. She carried herself with confidence and grace. When she walked she seemed unbreakable. And she never wore an ounce of make up, not even to cover her black eye, which, in an odd way, added to her charm as I ogled her that afternoon.
"Tay, what's up?" She said, glancing up at me.
"Oh." I said, snapping back to reality. "Nothing. Sorry, I was just thinking."
She was like a delicacy, or a piece of artwork. Michelangelo's David in female form. I shook my head, brushing the thoughts out of my mind. What was I doing? I was checking out my best friend, it just didn't seem right. But then I wondered why I had never noticed how absurdly beautiful she was before.
"You need to do your laundry." She announced. "And since I know you're a lazy ass I'm going to take this down for you."
The alarm rang early the next morning, and I groaned.
"Good God. This is torture." I mumbled. "They make you do this every day?"
She barely grunted as a response. Without saying another word she disappeared into my bathroom for a shower. I rolled over and went back to sleep.
"Taylor..." I heard, and there was a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. "Taylor, where do you keep your extra shampoo and stuff. We're out."
I moaned again, and rolled out of bed. My eyes were hardly open and I walked into the steamy bathroom to look under the sink. Nothing there, I suppose she had already looked. I went into the hallway and grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the hall bathroom. When I returned, she was sitting on my bed, hair dripping, with a towel wrapped around her body. It made me blush.
"Here."
"Thanks."
While she finished her shower I got dressed. We stood side by side brushing our teeth, and I shaved while she dried her hair.
"You're the only boy I know that would actually own a blow dryer."
"I'm a special boy." I said, winking.
I couldn't decide if we were more like siblings or married people.
She gave me directions as I drove her to school, and I felt quietly depressed about her departure. She had been at my side for the past week on a near constant basis, and I wondered if the course of the day apart would change anything. With her backpack and her school uniform I thought she looked like such a kid. It was the first time that it really occurred to me our age difference. When I pulled up to the main entrance of her school I kissed her gently on the forehead.
"Will I be seeing you later?" I said, a tinge of hope in my voice.
She smiled and shrugged, "Stop by my work. But I have to go home tonight. And have like, a somewhat normal life. But thanks for having me..."
"Anytime. You know that."
She smiled and waved as she disappeared into the building. For a moment, we both savored the idea of normal in our mouths.