Page 25 of Tell Me Softly

Taylor had sat in front of me, and we were able to pass our paper back and forth without Thiago noticing.

Danny was behind us, though, and he watched us like a hawk.

I knew it, but I wasn’t going to pretend like I cared.

He was a grown-up now. His actions had gotten him here, he’d have to learn to deal with that, and he’d have to learn to deal with the fact that what we’d had was finished.

He’d spent his whole life as a spoiled brat who got everything he wanted.

I’d given in to him many times when I shouldn’t have, and if he didn’t like seeing me happy without him—well, I hated it for him, but he was going to have to deal with it.

When detention was over and I thought we were going to be able to leave, Thiago called us up to his desk. Julian and Danny hung back for a moment, then walked out. Taylor rolled his eyes and grinned reassuringly as we walked over to his brother.

“You two think you can just laugh in my face?” Thiago asked.

“Bro…” Taylor said, looking tense.

“This better be the last time you try and put one over on me, understand? This is detention, not playtime. If I see the two of you even look at each other again in here, I’ll double your punishment and won’t think twice about it. I’ve had it up to here.” He closed his folder and walked out.

Taylor followed him with his eyes and said, “I’m tired of this shit. I’m tired of not being able to be with you because he freaks out every time he sees you. Why the hell can’t he get over it?”

“Taylor…” I said softly.

“Don’t Taylor me. I’m talking to him tonight. I’ve had enough of this shit. I hate it: the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you.”

“You can’t judge him for that.”

“The hell I can’t! You don’t deserve to be treated that way. I’ve put up with it as long as I could, but now I’m over it.”

“He’s just mad because he has to stay here and watch us.”

“Bullshit.” Taylor slung his backpack over his shoulder. “I know him. He doesn’t give a shit about that. You can’t even imagine the number of times I had to stick around school waiting for him because he’d gotten in trouble back in DC. He’s acting this way because of you.”

Maybe so. It wasn’t exactly news that Thiago couldn’t stand me.

“You drove here, right?” Taylor asked.

I nodded.

“Good. I’ll ride with you. I can’t stand to look at my brother right now.”

We walked out the front door and toward my convertible.

I wondered what I should do then. Mom would kill me if she saw my car at the Di Bianco house.

But if I parked in our driveway and didn’t come in, she’d ask questions.

So instead, I pulled onto the street that ran behind ours and left my car there.

Taylor looked surprised at first, but then he understood.

“It won’t always be like this, I promise,” he said.

“Taylor, you can’t change the past.”

“Of course I can’t. Even if that’s the thing I’d like most in this world. But I can change the future, and I will. I promise this bullshit of you having to park on a different street just so we can hang out isn’t going to happen again.”

I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to argue, and I didn’t want to try to convince him that changing everyone’s attitude was futile. I was already nervous enough going to his house after so many years, seeing his mother… My heart was pounding, and he had to know.

“Hey! Relax. My mom knows you’re coming, and she’s looking forward to seeing you.”

I wasn’t sure that was true.

We walked to Taylor’s house. On the way, I saw Mom’s car outside my house. I never thought I’d say this, but thank God I didn’t have my phone on me. If she couldn’t get in touch with me, she couldn’t order me to come straight home.

As Taylor took out his keys, I noticed his brother’s car wasn’t there.

I wondered what would happen if he came home before I left.

At the same time, I definitely didn’t want to know.

Taylor opened the door and motioned for me to enter.

I felt a tingle in my stomach. Hundreds of memories came back to me—nostalgia—and the pressure in my chest made it hard for me to breathe.

The same wood stairway was there. I had always adored it––my house had the same stairs, but made of marble.

This place was so homey; if it weren’t for my brother’s toys and video game stuff everywhere, my house could have been an Airbnb or a hotel suite.

All my parents cared about was neatness and order, whereas Taylor and Thiago’s mother loved beauty and comfort, and her house was full of fresh-cut flowers and the scent of pastries and coffee.

It had been that way before, and it was that way again, and all those sensations moved me deeply.

I closed my eyes for a moment. I heard us laughing.

I heard us running down the halls. I heard us playing, pretending the floor was lava and jumping back and forth from the couch to the armchair.

I remembered us building tunnels in the living room with cushions and sheets and playing games inside them at night, holding a flashlight over the board.

When I opened my eyes, the woman who had given birth to those two wonderful boys was smiling at me from the kitchen door.

She was wearing a pink apron knotted at the waist. Her hair was pulled back, with strands of it hanging loose.

Her smile was sincere, but there was something different in her eyes.

“Kam, I’m so happy to have you back here,” she said. She liked to call me by that name, just like her sons. I felt paralyzed, with a knot in my stomach.

“I made you all a chocolate walnut cake. It’s still warm from the oven. I hope you like it,” she said, as if I hadn’t been standing there like a dummy, too rude to say anything back. “I guess you’re tired after that long day at school. How was detention?”

“It sucked. But we managed to have a good time, right, Kami?” Taylor said as he walked over to give his mother a kiss on the cheek.

“We made Thiago mad, though.” At last, I’d managed to make my voice work again.

“After all the times I got called in because of things Thiago did when he was little…he’d better not let his position of authority go to his head,” she said, walking back into the kitchen. We followed her. It was so nice seeing her there, between those yellow walls with white wooden cabinets.

“Have a seat and get to work,” Katia said.

She cut the cake and set down a slice for each of us.

I watched her from the kitchen table, thinking how she deserved so much more happiness than she must have had.

Once she’d given us forks and napkins, she poured herself a cup of coffee and asked us if we’d like some.

“I would, please,” I said, swallowing after I noticed my voice sounded strange.

“No. Gross,” Taylor said.

“You don’t like coffee?” I asked. Was he insane?

Before he could answer, his mother responded, “Taylor? No matter how old he gets, he still wants his little hot chocolate with extra sugar and…”

“And a pinch of cinnamon,” I finished her phrase. “Are you serious? Still?”

His mother watched him, amused, as she set a cup in front of me. Taylor sat up straight, pretending to be serious as he opened his laptop but a little embarrassed, I think. “It’s the best combination of flavors known to man,” he said.

“You’re really selling it. Maybe you should go into the hot chocolate biz,” I told him, trying not to laugh.

“You’d make a fortune, honey,” his mother said, mussing his hair before disappearing into the living room. I looked at the empty doorframe with a feeling of longing and comfort.

“She always did love you,” Taylor said, taking my hand.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“I just do. Now let’s get to work because otherwise you’ll get home too late, and God forbid your mom starts calling and texting you like crazy.”

“No need to worry about that…she took away my phone.”

“Is that a thing? I thought parents didn’t punish their kids anymore.”

“Try me and find out,” Katia said, returning to the kitchen and picking her book up off the table. “I hope you’re not thinking of getting into any more trouble. Trust me, you won’t like what comes of it.”

I laughed as Taylor rolled his eyes.

“She’s talking because you’re here and she wants to show off.”

I shook my head and took out my notebook.

For half an hour, we tried to decide what we wanted to do. Talking about sex with Taylor could be fun. Even now, it was impossible to concentrate with all the dumb jokes he kept making.

“Why don’t we research the Kama Sutra? We can practice the positions. It’ll be like a study, and we can tell everyone––”

“Which positions are most painful?”

“I was going to say which ones led to the quickest orgasm. But you wouldn’t know, you’ve probably never had a real one yet.”

I tried to look at him knowingly. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s harder for girls.”

“You mean it’s harder for guys to figure us out,” I said.

With surprise in his eyes, he said, “I’m sorry, Kami, are these sexual complaints I’m hearing? Problems in bed? You know Doctor Taylor’s here to help you.”

I punched him in the shoulder and shook my head.

“Seriously, though,” he said while I tried to gaze at the screen. “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends on what.”

“Are you…?” He kept his voice low, in case his mother might hear.

“You’re on the basketball team, you must know the answer to that question.”

“Rule number one: never listen to what the guys say in the locker room,” he responded.

“Rule number two: don’t ask questions about things that don’t concern you,” I countered.

“Hey, now, this is scientific. How am I supposed to do a project on sexuality with you when I don’t even know if you have any experience with the subject matter? I need to be careful, figure out what I can and can’t talk about. I don’t want to scare you…”

“You dumbass,” I said, trying to push him out of his chair as he cracked up.

“You’re probably right about that, but still. Answer me, please?”