Oh, Taylor
Sunday
The rosy light garnishing the almost-full moon peeks through thin layers of cloud and fills the muddy sky with apprehension as Caleb strikes a path through the web of cars in the Riverwood Apartments parking lot. Caleb notes the mist of his hot breath meeting cold air, zips his jacket up tighter and quickens his pace up the wooden steps to the cement porch.
It’s not much warmer in his apartment, he thinks, flicking on the light switch and making a beeline for the thermostat. He turns it up to 71 and a low growl announces warm, singed air puffing from the vents in the coffee carpet. Why his roommates think heat isn’t worth paying for, Caleb doesn’t understand. Caleb wonders where Joe and Sean are. He hadn’t heard from them all day, and they were supposed to help him with their group project. He unzips his jacket but doesn’t take it off, kicks back on the brown leather couch, and turns on ESPN.
Would they just shut up about Tim Tebow? He’s seriously not that good. Caleb rolls his eyes, remembers that Halloween is around the corner, and flips to AMC fear-fest. It’s the horror movie, Carrie, and not the creepy old one but the crappy new one. He barely watches five minutes before he’s fast asleep.
There is a knocking at the door, and it takes Caleb a moment to figure out what it means. Company, duh, he thinks stretching to his feet. He turns the tv off and opens the door to find Taylor, the pretty brunette from building A, holding her black leather jacket over her head with an insistent smile. It’s raining.
Hey, she says, her electric green eyes sparking in the dim of Caleb’s apartment.
Hey, Caleb responds. Come in, get out of the rain. He stands back and gestures her inside. She steps onto the worn brown welcome mat as Caleb closes the door behind her. Despite the cold, she’s wearing a risqué black dress, her long legs seemingly unperturbed by the temperature. She’s also barefoot. Caleb thinks he might have stolen too long a glance at those legs, but he can’t be sure if she noticed or not. She shakes some of the rain off of her jacket and sighs.
Sorry to bother you so late, but I’m baking M&M cookies and I just realized I don’t have any M&M’s. You don’t happen to have any, do you? Caleb is struck dumb. This is only the second time he’s ever talked to Taylor, and she came to his apartment out of the four buildings, twelve units each, asking for M&M’s.
Uhh, yeah, I actually do, Caleb snaps to. One sec.
He begins to tear apart the shabby kitchen cupboards looking for the bag of M&M’s he’s sure is hiding somewhere. He glances back at Taylor and finds her smiling a knowing smile as she watches him search. Holy shit. Caleb blushes.
He finds the unopened bag of M&M’s and surrenders it to Taylor. He notices that she smells strongly of lavender and something else that he can’t put his finger on.
Thanks so much, She says, giving him a small hug. I’ll bring you a few cookies when I’m done.
Sure, Caleb responds with his best smile. M&M cookies are his favorite. Taylor opens the door, pulls her jacket back up over her head and runs out into the parking lot, the rain spraying all around her as she goes. Caleb watches her from the crack of his doorway until she disappears into her own. He thinks it odd that her feet leave no ripple in the puddles, but, mesmerized by her grace, he shrugs it off as a trick of the light.
. . . . .
Saturday
Joe is hammered drunk. The CEO’s and Corporate Hoes party down in building C was a fucking blast. Too bad Caleb left so early. Walking back to building B, Joe doesn’t mind that it’s raining, really. Raging in his nice charcoal suit with fiery red tie in a room packed with other drunk, screaming students had left him hot and dripping with sweat anyways. The cool rain feels good on his face.
He K.O.’s the rest of his last beer and discards the can on the pavement with a sloppy backhand toss. He is just thinking about how he should have tried to take that girl in the red dress, what was her name? Sandy? No, Caitlin? Shit. He can’t remember. Anyways, he is just thinking how he should have taken her home when, shaking his head at the fact that he isn’t going to get laid tonight, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye.
That smokin’ girl in the black dress with thin slits all over it revealing patches of flawless, pearly skin, the girl that left the party early to Joe’s dismay, is sitting on her porch, legs crossed, swinging the free one forward and back, forward and back. And she’s smiling right at him.
Bingo, Joe thinks, changing direction with an uneven step. He catches himself and prays he isn’t turning red. The girl in black giggles musically. She brushes her blonde curls behind her to reveal delicate shoulders and a thin neck. Joe finds his way to her porch without too much more difficulty and puts one foot up on the second step, giving his best imitation of Captain Morgan.
You dipped out pretty early for a Saturday night, he chided, grinning like a fool.
It was a little too rowdy in there for me, she smiled back.
I’m Joe. Joe extends his hand.
Taylor. I live in building A. She extends her hand as well and Joe grabs it rather clumsily and bends over it in a harder-than-he-intends kiss. She seems to be delighted, however, giggling again and placing her hands back into her lap. He loves that giggle. He wants to hear it again. Before he can think of something funny to say, she speaks.
Why don’t you come inside, Joe, I’ll make you something to drink? The look in her hazel eyes, blazing passion, Joe knows, sends the most exhilarating shock up his spine, and he obliges without hesitation.
As Taylor stands up and opens the door, beckoning Joe inside, he is too drunk to take a second glance at her shadow, which, cast in the light from her apartment door, remains on the stoop.
. . . . .
Sunday
Is this rain ever going to stop? Caleb wonders. He is watching ESPN again, Broncos versus Giants, a game he isn’t really that interested in. He’s far more interested in waiting for Taylor to return with those cookies. Not that he’s particularly interested in the cookies either; he really just wants to see her again. He’d poured himself a whiskey and coke after she’d left, and here he is, how much time later? on his fourth. He should probably slow down; he doesn’t want to act like a fool when she gets back.
Is she really interested in him though? She’s way out of his league: hauntingly beautiful as if she’d been sculpted from the light of the moon or some other cliché. She probably has guys all over her all the time. It must be annoying, Caleb thinks. He has to stand out by not standing out; he can’t just be another dick interested in vagina.
He vaguely wonders what his roommates will think when they return and he tells them what happened. Sean probably won’t believe him, and Joe will probably brag that he’s already had sex with her, which Caleb knows is total bullshit. Where are Joe and Sean? Sean had gone home for the weekend, but he promised he’d be back by now. Who knows where Joe might be. Caleb hasn’t seen him since the CEO’s and Corporate Hoes party last night. He has probably been in the library studying all day. Despite his propensity for partying, Joe gets good grades.
There is a knock at the door and Caleb hurries to answer. He smoothes down his shirt and shakes his head to clear any mental obstructions. Taylor is wearing the same dress and is still shoeless. Caleb can’t help but look her up and down quickly, searching for one flaw, just one thing.
Nothing.
She crosses the threshold and holds out three M&M cookies wrapped in clear plastic wrap.
Here you go! Caleb takes the cookies and says thanks. He places them on the kitchen counter and invites Taylor inside for a drink. She accepts and Caleb takes her leather jacket. He mixes her a vodka and cranberry, perhaps a little stronger than he should have, and they sit on the couch and talk for the better part of the hour.
They talk about the party last night, and how he’d seen her but she’d left before he could talk to her. She insists that it had been to get away from the chaos. She’s more of a homebody she says.
They talk about school; she’s an art major, he’s studying psychology. She asks what kind of psychology, he tells her abnormal psych. He’s fascinated by psychological oddities, things that can’t be fully explained and, at times, seem to transcend the ordinary. She agrees that it sounds very interesting. She’ll show him some of her more abstract art sometime. He’d like that.
After she leaves, Caleb fills a glass with cold tap water and downs it. He fills it again and grabs one of Taylor’s cookies, sitting down to catch the end of the forth quarter.
. . . . .
Friday
Sean is almost done packing his duffle bag to take home for the weekend. He tends to over-pack, but you never know when you’ll need to change clothes for this or that. He throws in a few pairs of socks and underwear, zips the bag shut, and hoists it over his shoulder to carry down the narrow staircase. He slips his Sperry’s on, says see ya later to Joe and Caleb, who are watching a movie in the living room, and steps outside into the blustery Friday night. His truck is parked on the other side of the parking lot. He had been pretty pissed that his usual spot was taken by one of the neighbor’s friends. Oh well. Fuck ‘em. He runs a key along the side of the intruding car before heading to his own. The wind whips his shaggy hair into his eyes, and he regrets his decision to let it grow out.
The duffle bag makes a soft thump as it hits the floor of Sean’s trunk. He closes the trunk with a hard shove and hurries to the driver’s side door. He should have been on the road a few hours ago, but like usual, random shit kept holding him up.
Going somewhere? A woman’s low voice calls out. Sean looks to his right to find Taylor, the cute girl from building A, standing on her porch, leaning up against the side of the building. She looks stunning in a black dress, probably ready to go out and have a good time.
Home, Sean replies. And too bad, he thinks, looking Taylor up and down. Gotta visit the family. You know how moms get.
Of course, she responds. Before you go, could you maybe help me with something? Stepping off her porch, she sways towards him with pendulum hips. Her hair flashes copper as it catches the blush from the row of porch lights hovering above each apartment door.
She hesitates perfectly when she says it, her voice the right combination of distress and seduction. Sean knows that tone of voice; he craves it.
He plays the textbook response: slight air of casual arrogance, as if he doesn’t really have to help her but is choosing to because he has nothing better to do, and pushes his chest out a bit. What will Joe and Caleb think? Sean smiles to himself. He’ll rub it in their faces when he gets back, that’s for sure.
As Sean follows Taylor’s sapphire gaze, his own eyes squinting in a strong gust of wind, he ascribes the apparent lack of effect the wind has on her hair and dress to his fancies and saunters after her.
. . . . .
Sunday
The first cookie had been so good that Caleb ate the subsequent two with the finesse of a Neanderthal. He couldn’t help himself. The Giants won, take that, Tebow! bringing football to and end for the day. It’s almost midnight now but Caleb isn’t tired. He peeks through his blinds towards Taylor’s apartment. The rain still hasn’t let up. The lone lamp in the middle of the parking lot is flickering a dim brown, reflected in the pools of rainwater collected at its base.
Caleb has a strong urge to go over to Taylor’s apartment. There is candlelight bleeding through the rosy curtain in one of the rooms upstairs, and somehow Caleb knows that it’s Taylor’s room. He just needs an excuse.
The cookies! He’ll tell her that the cookies were so good he has to have another. She’ll probably be flattered and maybe even invite him inside. He wouldn’t even be lying.
Sudden stranger to logic and reason, Caleb almost trips over his shoelaces in an effort to pull his shoes on his feet as quickly as possible. He throws his jacket on and trots out into the rain. It’s raining a little harder than it was earlier, and Caleb decides to jog over to building A, holding a hand up to shield his eyes. He thinks he sees Sean’s truck, but he must be seeing wrong through the rain. Sean isn’t back yet.
What a stupid idea, he thinks as he hops up onto Taylor’s porch and knocks on the door to apartment 13. She’s going to think he’s a creep and slam the door in his face. Maybe he should just turn around and run away before she opens it.
The door opens and there’s Taylor, gorgeous as ever, chocolate curls dripping over her shoulders, smiling that secret, seductive smile of hers.
Sorry to bother you, I just, those cookies were so good I had to have another, Caleb says lamely. She summons him inside with the bending of a finger, closes the door, and pushes him up against it with a deep kiss.
Caleb can’t believe it. He closes his eyes, wraps his hands around her feather waist and kisses her back. She breaks the kiss after what seems like hours and pulls Caleb upstairs by the belt. If he wasn’t so infatuated he might have noticed the lack of furniture in the living room, the emptiness of the kitchen, or the lipstick smeared all over the walls. But he’s far too occupied to notice.
Taylor leads him down the shadowy hallway to the room at the end, where Caleb can see the flickering light of a candle through the crack of the door. The smell of incense grows stronger the closer they come to the door. There it is again. Lavender and something he can’t identify. She pulls him rather forcefully forward and pushes him through the door first. Caleb stumbles in the room, ready to tear his shirt off, and stops dead.
There are at least fifty candles dancing along the empty hardwood floor. Foreign symbols cover the walls in crimson and pink lipstick. There is a small bowl of herbs and melted M&M’s mixed in a dark liquid simmering over a bed of candles. The only other physical objects in the room are a large, black, leather-bound book lying open in the middle of an elaborate symbol lipsticked to the center of the floor, and a line of shoes along the wall. Caleb immediately recognizes Joe’s and Sean’s among them.
What the fuck? Caleb’s mind grows hazy, as if the river of his thoughts is being pushed through a funnel. The walls slowly fade to darkness and the candles go out as if hit by a breeze until only a few remain lit. Dark mist begins swirling through the room, conjuring intangible shapes and ghastly apparitions. Caleb’s heart freezes heavy in his chest. He hears the click of a door shutting, and forces his numb legs to turn around. Taylor is standing stark naked, covered in markings like those on the walls. Her eyes are blacker than soot and filled with insatiable lust. He tries to move but his limbs won’t respond. The door behind Taylor melds into the mist.
What? He pleads. Why?
Taylor gives him no answer. She simply laughs her seductive laugh as his body is lifted a few inches off the floor by invisible strings. Caleb tries to scream, but when he opens his mouth no sound comes out. She peels his clothes off, and, working him like a puppet amidst the churning chaos, breathes life to her darkest fantasies.