1.4 Taylor
With a last goodbye, and no small amount of anxiety settled in her stomach, Taylor watches as Val stalks away from the house. Even though she had only spent a short time with the strange girl, Taylor's worries have been greatly alleviated. Val, while maybe not technically human, is certainly a person with morals capable of making good decisions. The extent of these moral, she can't be entirely certain of yet.
Taylor had felt terribly guilty doing so, but she'd given Val a few orders that she knows the Compulsion will hold her to. She's responsible for anything Val might do. Taylor had told her not to kill anyone and not to hurt anyone without due cause. She knows that the instructions are vague and can probably be exploited, but Taylor finds herself uncharacteristically trusting the strange white-haired girl. She knows their Contract can be broken, but Val had seemed so genuine in her discussion of motivations that she finds herself doubting she would throw away her newly acquired freedom.
Val had been, admittedly, a bit much on first contact, but had easily settled into a serious demeanor when the planning began. She had asked thoughtful questions and seemed to absorb each of Taylor's explanations with a seriousness that didn't at all match her previous behavior. Taylor wonders which of the personalities is the more genuine.
She wishes that she wasn't so pressed for time, but Douglas and Linda will be back from their date night soon – The first stretch of time that Taylor has been alone in the house for close to two weeks. The fact that a 60's something couple still seem to be so happily married is nothing less than adorable, and Taylor's detachment from them has nothing to do with her opinion of them. It's not even that Taylor knows they're fostering her out of a sense of obligation, either, even if it does leave a bad feeling in her stomach. They're great people, honestly. They just, they don't fit into the future she's planning out.
Turning her back on Val and hoping nothing disastrous happens overnight, Taylor jogs back into the house for a once over to make sure nothing suspicious is laying around. The basement is noticeably reorganized, but her foster parents go down there infrequently enough that it could be quite some time before they say anything. And while saying that she had cleaned it just because she had felt like it would probably get an odd look, it's not like anything more will come of it.
Taylor needs to start getting ready for the next day. It's difficult to shift gears back to dealing with the mundane after such unusual events, but she has school tomorrow and should probably get settled down for the night. Whatever happens to Val is out of her hands at this point.
It's about time for dinner, so Taylor makes her way to the kitchen. She's tempted to make something easy like a bowl of cereal but forces herself to make something healthier. Taylor knows that cape life demands a better lifestyle. Starting had been the hard part, anyways, and Taylor doesn't want to lose her determination so quickly. If she can't even force herself to be better, she thinks, what chance does she have with Brockton Bay?
And that's what this is about, she reminds herself. The last few months have been… hard. She doesn't like thinking about them. She needs to move forward, not drown in the past. And things aren't all bad, she knows, even if it feels traitorous to think. Arcadia is objectively, tangibly a much better school than Winslow, for many reasons. The bullying at Winslow had been bad, really bad, but it's turned a muted gray with recent events.
Unfortunately, it turns out that while transferring schools has stopped the bullying for the most part, Taylor Hebert remains a social outcast. Most of that is her own fault, she knows, but also finds it difficult to care. She has other goals now, and stuff like school is just something she tolerates her way through.
Taylor is still eating when her foster parents' return is announced by the sound of keys and an opening and shutting of the front door.
A grandmotherly voice calls out, "Taylor, we're home!"
Although Taylor isn't in the market for new parents, or even parent figures, she intends to keep their relationship at least friendly. She sets her fork down and pads across the house to greet them at the door.
"Hi Linda, Hi Douglas. Welcome back." She gives a little wave.
Douglas gives a nod Taylor's way.
She doesn't move to hug them, and she knows they don't expect her to. Linda had been a lot touchier when she first moved in, something she was very uncomfortable with, but Taylor suspects that someone had suggested that she be given space for a while. Taylor wants to find this theoretical person and thank them profusely.
Taylor gestures towards the kitchen and says, "Just finishing up my dinner. How was date night?"
Taylor gives them a moment to finish putting away their coats and keys before she turns and walks back towards the kitchen. She hears them follow.
"Oh, it was lovely. Doug took me out for Italian, you know that nice restaurant down the street? El something?"
She doesn't, but she nods anyways.
Douglas says nothing, as usual.
Even on his best days, he doesn't say much. Probably prefers to let his actions speak. Taylor respects that.
When she had first moved in, Taylor had been amazed at the little wooden figurines that line the shelves of the garage. Linda had said that Douglas had carved them himself, apparently. A hobby he had dropped a while ago. She had thought the hawk was especially beautiful.
She had found it on her bedside drawer after school the next day. She knows she didn't say anything about liking it. Few days later, Linda makes an offhand comment about how Douglas has picked up carving again. Says she doesn't know why.
Taylor tries to not let it affect her. It doesn't.
It doesn't.
She makes small talk with Linda in between bites of food, nodding and giving polite laughter at all the right moments. The night comes to a close faster than expected, and Linda and Douglas retire to their room early. Taylor does the same not long after, thoughts more than a little melancholy despite the excitement of the day.