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jennaferz

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When she heard the horn sound from outside, she raced down the stairs, calling a goodbye to her mother, and prepared to run out to Taylor's car.

But it turned out it wasn't that easy.

"Where are you going, Den?" her mother called from the kitchen. "And don't you dare just ignore me and run out, I will beat your ass--"

Deni sighed and turned back around. "I'm going out tonight, is that okay?" she asked sarcastically.

"Who with?"

"Taylor."

"Taylor..."

She sighed a long and dramatic sigh. "Taylor Green, okay? Can I go now?"

"Certainly not!"

"Why?!"

Her mother finally looked up from the table. "Because, Denise, Taylor Green was in the paper this week."

"And...?"

"And," she continued, raising her eyebrows as Deni continued to inch her way towards the door, "he got an MIP."

Deni groaned inwardly. She should have made up a last name. She would never be able to go out now. "Well, can I just go tell him that I'm not going to be able to go with him?"

"All right, but if I find out that you went with him, you aren't going to be able to sit down for a week."

"Right." She had learned long ago that her mother's threats were empty. She ran outside, slid into Taylor's car, and quickly said, "Go!"

He could hear from the urgency in her voice that she meant it. Flooring it, he went around the corner and said, "Trouble?"

"Let's leave it at this," she replied, "I don't think I'm going home tonight."

He grinned. "Good, you can come home with me."

"I don't think so," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "Keep dreaming."

"We have a guest bedroom," he shot back as though she were incredibly stupid.

"Whatever. I'll think about it. Considering your lust for my bare skin"--she smiled as he blushed--"I think I'll take any other offer I get."

"Any other offer?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows. "Should I be tempted to call you a slut?"

"Shut up." She smiled, bouncing a little in her seat. "So where's the party?"

"Angie's place." He noticed that she stiffened. "Problem?"

"No, no problem," she replied, smiling through clenched teeth. She and Angie had hated each other ever since two years before when Angie and a group of her friends had challenged Deni to a bike race, loosened all the screws, and accused her mockingly of being so fat that she broke the bike.

"You're lying to me again," Taylor pointed out. "That's a habit you're really going to have to break."

"Sorry. Yeah, there's a problem, but I'm a big girl. I can handle it."

"Mind telling me what the problem is, exactly?"

"Actually, I do mind." She could hear the attitude made evident in her voice, but made no effort to conceal it.

"Deni, if we're going to take this relationship any further--"

"Excuse me?" She stared at him. "Who said anything about taking this relationship any further? I've told you before, I want to be your friend and that's it."

He stared straight ahead, and she could see his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "Why are you being such a bitch?"

"And I'd like it if you'd stop calling me a bitch every time we talk."

"Denise..." He trailed off, shaking his head, his long black hair drooping over his face. "Forget it, okay? Just forget it."

They rode in silence the remainder of the way, but when they reached Angie's house he turned to her with a bright smile, as though ready to put the conflict behind them. "Let's go. I am going to show you the meaning of partying."

"Great." She was aware once again that her voice sounded less than enthusiastic, but she couldn't help it. She had a feeling that later this evening, she was going to be bathing Taylor's forehead while he threw up all the alcohol he drank.

He took her hand as they raced up the stairs. Each person they saw turned and called out a greeting to Taylor as they passed. Deni was unused to all the jealous stares she got. Taylor noticed and smiled at her.

"Having fun already?" he teased. "And you thought this was going to be the worst night of your life."

"It's not over yet," she told him.

"You want a beer?" he asked, already heading to the keg.

"Um, no thanks," she stumbled, "I, um, don't drink."

"Just one," he pressed. "You don't even have to drink it."

"Oh, okay," she relented. "Just one, then."

Still clutching her hand, they shoved their way to the keg. There were three guys standing around it, and as they approached, they turned to check Deni out.

"Who's this, Taylor?" one of them, a tall blond, asked.

Another, an emo-looking one with long black hair, added, "You let me bang her, Green, I'll give you some pot."

Deni stiffened, turning to look at Taylor. His expression was blank as he replied, "Sorry, guys, but this one's off limits."

"You get her drunk enough," the blond said, "bring her back here. We'll take care of her."

Taylor just shook his head as he filled two cups with beer and, handing one to Deni, led her away. When she looked closer she saw that he looked pissed.

"Hey, it's okay," she said, squeezing his hand. "I told you, I can take care of myself."

"I know," he said quietly, lifting his gaze to hers, and once again she was startled by the deepness of his dark eyes. "I just don't like to hear them talk about you like that."

She was aware that his face was coming closer to hers, and didn't know if she would have the emotional strength to stop him--

But just as she felt the skin of his lips touch hers, light as air, someone called Taylor's name and they broke apart.

Deni smiled sheepishly. "I told you, Taylor. Just friends."

He didn't say anything, and she read the disappointment in his eyes.

And the worst part was, her stomach was a pit of disappointment too.