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jennaferz

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It was eleven o'clock when she woke up the next morning.

At first she was frenzied, thinking she'd missed half the day of school, oh God, why hadn't her mother woken her up, what happened--

Oh yeah. It's Saturday.

She rubbed a hand over her face, and as she did every morning, glanced across the room into her mirror. Her hair was mussed, three or four loose strands dangling over her face, and her eyes were wide and sleepy.

She was reaching for her clothes when the door swung open.

She screamed and yanked her blanket off of her bed, hastily wrapping it around herself as fast as she could, but it was too late.

Whoever it was who had opened the door had already seen every bare inch of her body.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she turned to face them--

And her worst fear was confirmed.

It was Taylor.

"What the hell," she said huskily, slowly, "do you think you're doing?"

His eyes were wide as he gazed back at her, but she could see a smile playing across his lips. "Sorry, I guess I should have knocked."

"You guess?" she repeated. "God, Taylor--"

"You're not gonna get all pissed at me, are you?" He gazed at her with wide eyes, a pleading puppy-dog look in them, and even while she knew it was just a show, she couldn't help her melting insides--

"Yeah." She turned away. "Get out so I can get dressed."

"Why do I have to leave?"

Amused anger bubbled inside of her, but when she turned to tell him off, she saw that he was already gone. Rolling her eyes, she let the blanket fall to the ground as she reached once more for her clothes.

That was when she heard someone chuckling across the room.

Whipping around, she saw that Taylor hadn't really left.

"You--fucking--pervert!" she hissed as she crossed the room, hand raised to slap him.

"Whoa, calm down!" he told her, jumping up. "I was just leaving."

"That's what I thought," she said, slamming the door behind him. She yanked on her clothes and swung the door open, ready to lay him on the line, but he wasn't there.

"Taylor?" she called.

"Yeah?"

She jumped and spun around. There he stood, a mocking smile on his lips, eyebrows raised.

"What is your problem?" she spat at him.

The smile disappeared, but his eyebrows remained raised. "What do you mean?"

"First you swear at me yesterday--"

"Which you've already done to me twice in the last five minutes," he reminded her.

She chose to ignore this, instead continuing, "And now you barge through my door when I'm ass naked, hide while I'm getting dressed, and jump out at me from behind--"

"I didn't jump out, all I did was say 'yeah'."

"Whatever. Still."

"Sorry."

She brushed past him and went downstairs. "Did you eat?"

"What?"

"The question was simple," she said. "Did. You. Eat?"

"Uhm...no?"

"There're donuts on the table and milk in the fridge if you want some," she told him, pulling out a carton of yogurt from the refrigerator.

He stared at the yogurt. "Are you dieting or something?"

"It took me three months to lose all that weight, I don't want to regain it all in a week," she pointed out.

"God, pessimistic much? I don't think it would kill you to have one donut."

She shot him a look. "You try being 200 pounds and tell me how you like it."

"No thanks." He pulled out a donut from the Krispy Kreme box on the table. "Where are the glasses?"

"Second cupboard from the right." She pulled out her phone and dialed Michael as he poured himself a glass of milk. She knew she was being bitchy, but she couldn't help it. She liked his jealous reaction.

"Yeah, what?"

"Michael?"

Sure enough, Taylor's shoulders went rigid. Slowly he turned around and went to sit at the table.

"Oh...hey, Den," Michael said. "I thought you were going to call me back."

"I am calling you back," she told him.

There was a long and awkward silence.

"Look, I hate to do this," Michael said finally, "but I'm kind of busy at the moment--"

That was when Deni heard from the background, a female voice.

Panting.

Saying, "Harder."

Deni could feel her face growing hot. "Oh, um, okay. I'll...talk to you later."

"Right. Bye, Den."

She slid her phone into her pocket, sure that her face was still burning. Taylor turned from the table and stared at her.

"What's wrong?"

"Um...nothing."

Her mind was blank. She didn't know why this hurt so much, she was the one that had rejected Michael, she'd had her chance--

"Deni?"

She looked up. Taylor was watching her, concerned. She put a hand to her head.

"I, um, think I'm going to lie down."

"Lie down?" He stared at her. "Okay, now I know you're lying to me. What's wrong?"

"I told you, nothing." She slowly went into the living room and sat down heavily on the couch. Taylor sat next to her. She barely felt his hand enclose hers.

Barely heard him saying, "Don't lie to me."

"Michael wasn't alone." Her voice sounded hollow, empty.

Recognition dawned on Taylor's face. "Oh, God, Deni. I'm sorry."

She didn't say anything, just stared straight ahead. She could feel his finger touching her cheek. Suddenly, as his face drew closer and closer to hers, her mind cleared.

She jerked away from him. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He said it quickly, breathlessly, not looking at her. "Sorry."

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Nothing."

"Taylor..."

"What?" He looked up from the study of his hands to see her looking at him intently. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason." She smirked. "So, did you ever figure out that math problem?"

"Yeah." He grinned, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. "27."

She looked down at the slip of paper and nodded, feeling a smile spread across her face. "See? You don't need my help."

"Deni, seriously. That was, like, the most basic problem you could possibly come up with. Anyway, I didn't come here to talk about math."

"I thought you didn't come here for anything."

"Shut up. I came to ask if you wanted to do something with me tonight."

"Why not now? You're already here."

"There's a party tonight," he said, ignoring this, "and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me."

She considered it. From what she'd heard about Taylor, it might not be the best night of her life. Still, it was tempting... "Okay, but as friends."

"Oh." His face fell, but regained its smile within seconds. "Okay then. You're really into the playing hard-to-get thing, aren't you?"

"I'm not playing hard-to-get," she told him. "I meant it when I said you're not really my type."

He glanced away. "You're still judging me, then."

"No, I'm not. I just don't want to get myself into the things you've gotten yourself into."

He stood up. "Look, I'll pick you up at eight, okay?"

Startled, she rose too. "Oh--okay. See you then."

"Bye."

She stared after him as he ducked into his Delorean and drove away. She was probably going to regret saying yes to him. But every time he spoke to her, her mind clouded over and all reason was gone.

And all that was left was the temptation.