Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
taylor
An extra spray of cologne for good luck followed a lengthy and suffocatingly steamy shower because I liked pampering and wasn’t ashamed of it. Squeaky queen. Sue me.
The door banged closed behind me, and my feet pattered down the stairs to where Jason, Bennet, Greg, and Finn watched yet another film about some blue people nobody asked for. “Don’t wait up,” I said, sprinkling just enough intrigue to make them curious.
And the first to go for the bait was my self-adopted dad, Jason, rising from the semi-prostrate position on poor little Bennet. “Where are you going?”
“Uh, out.”
“It’s noon,” Finn pointed out. “We will very much wait up.”
“Don’t,” I said. I was already by the door, reaching for the knob, when Peanut, our house’s golden retriever, lifted his head off the pillow and directed his clever gaze at me.
Play time? Alas, I was in a hurry, and Peanut received more than a fair share of attention already, because I’d seen Jason run around the yard all morning.
I hadn’t been able to tell which one of them was chasing the Frisbee.
The distinction was minimal. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. ”
My brothers and housemates were such a flock of gossips that their dying with curiosity was a given. “Now, hold on a second,” Greg said. “Where are you, Taylor Meredith Jackson, going in the middle of the day?”
“That is not my…never mind. I’m going out with Harrison.” I shrugged like a frustrated teenager who really didn’t need this line of questioning before going out with a friend.
“With Harrison? The Harrison? You already won the bet. Just brag about it,” Jason said.
Finn’s eyes were narrow with suspicion already. Good, good. I rubbed my hands greedily, but only inside the privacy of my own head. “He’s actually a pretty cool guy. We’re going to the arts and crafts market.”
Finn broke first, snorting loudly. “You and Harrison are going to an artisanal Sunday market.”
“I would tone it down on all that sarcasm if I were you,” I said, flipping him off.
“Wait, are you replacing us?” Jason asked.
I shrugged innocently. “I’m still auditioning him. He doesn’t know any of my stories.”
“And more to the point, what the hell are you wearing?” asked Finn.
“My nice clothes,” I said.
“You wore nice clothes yesterday.”
“I had a date you dared me to go on,” I pointed out. It was true. My wardrobe mostly consisted of hoodies and sweatpants, but I wasn’t a stranger to making an effort. “You’re really not scoring any points here, guys.”
“We’re sorry, Taylor,” Greg said. “We’ll do better.”
That drew a laugh from me.
“Have fun, I guess,” Jason said. “But you’re missing out on some ridiculous fun over here.”
I waved them goodbye and stepped out of the Bel House.
The air was surprisingly warm after yesterday’s end-of-the-world downpour that had me pressed against Harrison’s arm all the way back to campus.
He’d finally unfurled his umbrella after saying goodbye and marched on a couple of blocks to a place he had.
We’d gone over the plan in more detail on our way back despite thunder trying its best to take Emma’s side and make making arrangements impossible.
Harrison’s task was to find the places and times where Emma was likely to appear, alone or with her new boyfriend, and we would try to get there first, learn a few names, and own the place like the beloved couple that we were.
On my end, I would spend a few days dropping clues while fervently denying any and all suspicions that something was going on between Harrison and me, and then I would be caught dramatically in my lies, and all my friends would drink themselves under the table trying to process just what they had done with their silly little dare.
I might even get a coming-out cake and party and the whole shebang.
It was a perfect plan. I saw no way for this to go wrong, said Wile E. Coyote.
I plugged my headphones in and blasted “Holding Out for a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler as I walked to the subway, mingled with the living, breathing crowd around me, and exited near the abandoned industrial warehouse where the arts and crafts market was already bustling with activity.
As I neared it, the figure with his back to me was impossible to miss.
His broad shoulders filled the knitted sweater in a clash of strength and elegance only Harrison could pull off.
He wore gray checkered pants that fit him a little too well.
I noticed, yeah. So what? I liked a well-dressed person as much as anyone.
I snuck up on him and poked his rib cage with my fingers from behind.
Harrison yelped and jumped off the sidewalk, grabbing his heart. “You’re so damn lucky I don’t know karate.”
“Yeah, because you could make me laugh to death with some karate moves.”
“That is probably highly disrespectful,” Harrison noticed. “Don’t do that again.”
I crossed my heart. “Never making fun of karate again.”
He arched that eyebrow of his, making me feel like I was in the principal’s office. “I’m ticklish, and I hate it. A boyfriend should know that.”
“A boyfriend would abuse this knowledge to the end of days,” I said, slipping a hand to his rib cage and giving him a tickle that provoked utter disbelief on his face.
I missed the mark a little, virtually caressing his tit with my hand.
“Oh, wow, you work out,” I said as my fingers met a steel-hard torso.
Harrison slapped my hand away like I was a mosquito. It only encouraged me.
“How much can you lift?” My hand went to his chest again.
“Are you always like this?” Harrison asked.
“I just wanna know. I do a hundred pounds on an inclined bench without breaking a sweat,” I said. “Boyfriends should tell these things to each other, Harrison.”
I could see him fight to keep his expression blank. I could also see the anxiety making all the nerve endings in his body tingle. “A hundred and forty, but I do break a sweat.”
“Damn, boy.”
“Right. Enough of this. We should look around and get to know some of the sellers. Emma’s not here yet, but I bet she won’t be able to resist it. She always came along with me.” He put a hand on the small of my back and leaned in real close. “Is this okay?”
“Your hand is fine,” I said. “You whispering into my ear is…” I didn’t have a word for it.
Whatever it was, it made my neck want to twist, and it made my skin prickle.
But before I could find the name for the feeling, we were at a stall where an artsy girl our age wore a particularly colorful bandana around dreadlock-decorated hair.
Her nose was pierced on the left side, and she wore no makeup, yet glowed like a polished diamond, and greeted us with a dimpled smile that would have made me buy her a drink in a blink.
“Hi,” Harrison said while I was still too busy moving my gaze over the trinkets on her table.
There were the classic wooden beads strung into necklaces and bracelets, amber jewels hung from strings, wooden boxes that were clearly handmade containing incense and clever mechanisms to hold them in place so they wouldn’t burn your house down, figurines and little statuettes of various animals cluttering an embroidered tablecloth.
A stork with a long beak and one leg lifted off the ground was delicately balanced on its other leg.
“These are incredible,” I said. “Did you make all of this?”
“You know it,” she said.
“Wow. Witchcraft.” And I meant it. Bring out the stakes. I didn’t know it was possible for one person to be able to do so many things. I had a glancing talent at catching a ball and running into a crowd of testosterone-fueled men.
“My grandpa was crazy talented. He could make anything. If you just described it to him, he didn’t even need to see it.” She laughed. “I’m Kate. Welcome to my stand.”
“Hi, Kate,” I said, defaulting to my flirtatious self. “I’m Taylor. This is Harrison.” I glanced at him and saw what I was doing reflected in his eyes. “My boyfriend,” I added. I picked up the stork. “Look, babe. It’s a stork.”
A customer with a wallet out approached the table and watched Kate with the eagerness of someone willing to spend money here and now, so she excused herself. “Just look around. I’ll be here.”
“How did I do?” I asked.
Harrison was still holding my stork. “Incredible.”
“Really?”
He looked at me. “Oh, I meant the figurine. You did fine after remembering you’re not a straight, single guy looking to flirt with every pretty girl you meet.”
I polished my fingernails on the lapel of my jacket. “Thank you very much. I try my best.”
He laughed and set the stork down. “Emma’s still not here. We’d better make a round before revisiting Kate.”
So we did. We saw potters and painters and soap makers and a woodcarver who himself looked a little like one of his own carvings, all ropey arms, knobby joints, a smoothly combed beard, and tobacco-yellowed mustache. “It’s all so expensive,” I said quietly.
“It’s handmade,” Harrison said.
“I get the gist of it, yeah. But it’ll leave me eating ramen until the end of March.”
“I love ramen.”
“We can have a date at my place. I’ll make a double serving.”
Harrison looked at me oddly. “That would defeat the purpose, no?”
“Oh. Right. Well, maybe to mess around with my brothers,” I said.
“The fraternity brothers?”
“Yeah.” I glanced at the mild ghost of wariness on Harrison’s face. “We’re not like that. There aren’t even any kegs in our basement.”
He laughed a little nervously. “It’s just such a male-dominated environment.”
“You’re into men,” I blurted, Finn’s assessment coming back to me. “Sorry. I just assumed. See, I have a friend with a broken gaydar. He’s like a sailor lost at sea. With all the other sailors. On a ship. Which he would enjoy, now that I think about it. Am I rambling?”