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“Hey. I only said friends. Are you two, uh, you know, doing alright?”
“Yes, Dad. We’re fine. What we had was in high school. He’s literally my stepbrother now. Ew.”
“Well, I’m just checking, sweetheart. I know that was hard for you.” He gives me those awkward, sorrowful dad eyes that I can’t stand to look at.
So, now you care?I want to say. “Can I take your car today?”
“My truck? Sure. Where ya going?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go in town to shop or see a movie.”
“You’re depressing me, Taylor.”
“What! I already asked my friends, they’re busy.”
“Suit yourself. Keys are on the counter.”
“Thank you. Love you.”
“Love you, Tay-bear.” He grunts and turns the TV volume back up to deafening levels. I snatch his keys from the kitchen, then grab my bag from my room. I go to the garage and start the engine. The only other time I drove a truck was Jared’s last year when he made me go out for a beer run. His was a beater, the engine barely started, unlike this one.
As an Environmental Science major, it’s my go-to to say that I prefer energy-efficient cars. The earth prefers energy-efficient cars. But damn does this truck feel nice compared to my poor car.
I pull it out of the driveway and decide to head towards the local theater to catch a matinee like Mom and I used to do in elementary school. The old downtown area has a cute 100-year-old theater that has a total of two screens and closes at 8 every night. They play old movies and sometimes movies that have already hit Netflix or back when I went, DVD. I like to imagine how people a hundred years ago would attend the theater, probably dressed up, on dates, seeing some black and white film and getting five cent popcorn. When I park the car, I notice that a lot of other people and families have the same idea. I get a ticket to see a rerun of Twilight, not realizing it’s the anniversary week of when it aired.
I sit down in the far back of the theater with my bag of sour candy next to a pair of teen girls that giggle every time Jacob makes an appearance on the screen. A couple of people are on a date, one pair I recognize from university. When I was fifteen, I thought that Jacob was the hottest guy in the world. Now that I’m an adult, I see the appeal for Edward, and even more so, his dad, Carlisle. Something about the possessiveness, the protection, the money, it’s sexy. It feels like I’ve time traveled back to high school years, and I like it.
I scream with the crowd when Jacob takes his shirt off and gasp when a vampire attacks Bella. When I leave the theater, I decide to go on a walk around the town as the air gets a bit colder with the sunset. My stomach growls but what I could really go for is a drink. I round the next block and see the bar, Sally’s. I forgot about that place. We used to be able to sneak in there without IDs and get a drink any night. I slip in, and I’m pleased to see the décor hasn’t changed a bit.
I show the bartender my license and order a ginger ale vodka. The bell above the door rings as Derek walks into the bar. I shift my body away from him, hoping he hasn’t noticed me. He sits down at the other end of the bar, and I can feel his stare burning into me. I won’t let him intimidate me out of this bar. I came here to enjoy myself, so I take my time sipping my drink while making conversation with the bartender.
She’s a girl about my age. She reeks of cigarettes and has bleach blonde hair paired with dark eyeliner. I like her vibe; you can tell she’s authentically herself.
She hands me a second drink and leans over the counter. “You’re Elijah’s stepsister,” she rasps. “I’m Samantha.”
“Jeez, small town,” I say, sipping my drink.
“I saw that picture last week of you.”
“Yeah, well you and everyone else, Samantha.” I roll my eyes. Guess she doesn’t want a tip. Since when is everyone in this town so hostile?
“No hate, I like slutty women.”
“Is that you trying to hit on me?”
She throws her head back in laughter. “No. Just, I know what it’s like to be called a slut, too.”
“So, you know how misogynistic it is to call another woman that, then,” I say, scooting the barstool out from under me. I dig in my purse and throw a twenty on the counter. “Pleasure to meet you, Samantha.”
“Likewise,” she says as the bell dings above me. I hadn’t realized that it started to rain. So much for it being a clear evening, Dad. Now I have to walk back to the theater to get the truck.
“Taylor,” a husky voice says.
Derek stands outside of the bar with his hands in his pockets. His pale eyes are bloodshot. It seems he has more than beer in his system.
“Leave me alone, Derek.” I sigh and pull up the hood to my jacket. He steadies himself against the door frame as I begin my walk down Second Street towards the theater. I should’ve brought pepper spray with me. Old town St. Paul is usually a safe area for women, unlike San Jose at night. But you never know what bastard might have it out for you.
I pick up my step when I hear him stumbling behind me, eventually stopping and turning around in front of an empty storefront. “Leave me alone!” I yell.
