Page 15 of Take Care, Taylor

Awesome! Take your time!

The carousels in baggage claim spun lazily, full and untouched. Passengers crowded around something on the far side of the room. Not wanting to join their zombie party, I headed straight for the belt and grabbed my two suitcases.

Looking around for the guide, I noticed a pile of crumpled welcome signs near the counter. Mine was at the very bottom.

“Ahhh!” “Oh my godddd!” “Me next, me next!” Screams and cheers echoed from outside.

I rolled my suitcase toward the noise, where a few guys in blue and white football jerseys were posing in front of a statue for photographers while others stood off to the side, chatting with fans. Camera shutters clicked, perfume mingled with the smell of jet fuel, and the air buzzed with giddy energy.

Ugh. They’re just human beings who play football. Not gods…

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my phone—but a familiar face in the distance stopped me cold.

I didn’t want to believe my eyes were showing me reality, but his smile—thatsmile—brought my entire world to a screeching halt.

Taylor Effin’ Wolff.

I’d been hoping to hear he’d fallen into the seventh circle of Hell or been hit by a bus, but my prayers remained unanswered. And if anything, it looked as if the universe had bestowed him with undeserved fortune and more good looks.

Dressed in a jersey and jeans like his teammates, he smiled for a selfie with a mom and her daughter, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. When he laughed, his jersey lifted just enough to reveal a hard, sculpted “V” disappearing into denim.

I tried to turn away, to stop my mind from spinning as to why he could possibly be here in the same city as me, but then I remembered.

He plays for the New England Bears now. That’s all.

Relieved, I let out a breath, but I still couldn’t look away. I couldn’t even move.

His eyes suddenly found mine—and his smile shattered. Time stood still between us, and the man in front of me slowlyshifted into the boy I knew before. The boy who went out of his way to ruin every moment, to ply me with fake “let’s be friends” offers until he was ready to hurt me again, and the guy I forced myself to stop reaching out to with my letters two years ago.

The mirage slowly dissipated as he blinked a few times, and I finally stepped back. His lips parted as if he were about to shout something across the crowd, so I offered an olive branch first. I threw up my middle finger, mouthing, “Fuck you.”

I turned away before I could see his reaction and pulled out my phone.

Hey, Regina. I’m here. I don’t see you.

“I see you!” She appeared out of nowhere, my name sign tucked under her arm. “The Bears were doing a photoshoot for the new season, so I had to take a chance on getting some selfies. Want to look?” She thrust her phone in front of my face, giving me an unwanted view of Taylor’s pearly white smile.

“I’m printing the ones with James Nolan and Taylor Wolff on all my bras.” She beamed. “Aren’t they hot?”

“Sure.” I forced a smile.

“Taylor seems to be in a good mood—taking pictures with everyone,” she said. “Want to go out there and try to get one for yourself?”

“No, I’d be too tempted to choke him…”

“What?”

“I said, no, that’s okay. I’d rather just go to campus…”

BULLY YEARS: EIGHTH GRADE

AUDREY

Dear Taylor,

Thank you SO MUCH for being a fucking asshole.

I can’t believe it took our principal finally witnessing your cruelty with her own eyes to get you suspended for the rest of the year.