"You lead me to your doorstep,
But you keep me locked outside."
- Use Me, Goo Goo Dolls
()()()
Taylor was not a virgin. She hadn't been with many men, but she was a modern woman, one of the twentieth century, who fucked who she wanted when she wanted them. As a result, she was no stranger to the so-called "walk of shame," to hurrying back to her house, in the same clothes as the night before, hoping to get back in time to squeeze in a shower before work.
But this felt different. She hadn't wanted to get out of that bed. She wanted to reach over, to touch David, and spend the day in that cave with him. If it hadn't been for the threat of others coming - of her brother possibly catching them - she might not have gotten up at all. There was something about David that drew her to him. No matter how much she told herself to stay away, she just kept finding herself coming back.
Taylor was not the only one on the boardwalk this morning, rushing back to cars that had been left to sit empty overnight. A few feet away from her was what Michael had referred to as a 'surf nazi,' rushing back to a beat-up VW with a board strapped to the top. He waved a hand in acknowledgment, which was both awkward and comforting. It pulled her out of her thoughts, back to reality.
She peeked at her Swatch watch. The walk had taken longer than she thought, and she only had an hour before she had to be at Sherli's. Cursing, she slammed the door of the Fairlane a little too harshly, before rushing off towards Max's house, hoping to get in a shower.
()()()
Today was even worse than the day before, and her exhaustion was coming close to overcoming her. Taylor felt more like a zombie than a hair stylist, going through the motions without really feeling much of anything. She was lucky she hadn't messed anything up, and Sherli had noticed.
Lunch rolled around again, and again Sherli offered a sandwich and a coffee from the bar next door.
"Although, in your condition, I might lay off the coffee for a little while." Sherli patted her hand, giving her a small consolation smile. "Maybe switch to decaf, if you like the taste?"
Taylor sputtered.
"Why would I switch to decaf?" She rubbed at tired eyes for a moment, and then it suddenly clicked for her. "I'm not pregnant, Sherli."
"But, you're…" Sherli shrugged. "Sorry hon, you had all the signs. You're going green at the edges and you're half asleep."
Before Taylor could respond, Sherli saved her from further embarrassment and left the shop, presumably to get the lunch they talked about. When she returned, she wordlessly slid a large coffee across the table in the office to Taylor. It was caffeinated, she could tell.
()()()
"Tonight," Taylor told herself, hurrying across the parking lot to the Fairlane. She was practically dead on her feet. "Tonight, I'm going to sleep like a baby."
But the same thing happened as the night before. The sun fell, the moon rose, and she found herself waking up, filling with energy as the sun fell beneath the ocean's waves.
There was traffic, cars going towards the beach for Friday night, and it took longer to get back to Max's house than she anticipated. By the time she pulled into the driveway and maneuvered her car between the twin rows of motorcycles, she was bouncing with energy and excitement. She could stay up just a little longer, she told herself.
She let her excitement get the best of her, the eagerness to get changed and go down to the beach for the evening, and she didn't think about what might be waiting for her once she got inside the house. She didn't think about David, and what he might say to her. Or worse, that he might not say anything at all.
Her mother and Max were in the kitchen when she entered, dropping the Fairlane's keys on the counter. They were bent over the counter, their faces hovering above a plate of raw steak. Max gave her a nod, meaty blood dripping from his mouth, but Lucy continued to reach for the steak without looking up at her daughter. She shoved the whole of it into her mouth, chomping down on it with sharp canines.
Taylor shivered.
"I don't know why they eat like that," Sam shrugged. "Michael says it doesn't even do anything for them. They still have to get regular human blood anyways."
"It could be worse. At least they don't eat their victims on the kitchen counter." Taylor shrugged, making her way towards what she assumed was the liquor cabinet. "Do you want to get drunk tonight, Sammy?"
Sam balked at her for a moment. "I - I never - "
Of course, Sam had never gotten drunk. Who would he have drank with, anyways? He didn't have friends in Phoenix, and he didn't seem to have them here. But, then again, neither did Taylor.
"C'mon," She urged him. "We'll have a couple of shots here, and then maybe we'll go dancing, somewhere down by the boardwalk. I heard one of my clients talk about some saxophone player down there, and they said he's someone you have to see!"
Although Sam heard Taylor's words, he also heard a desperation in her voice. Taylor wanted to have fun, and, for the first time since she arrived, she was looking to have it with her brother, acknowledging that he was growing up. But Sam also knew she was avoiding something, or maybe someone. Either way, Taylor was his sister, and he wanted to stand by her in a way that Michael had failed to.
He reached for the Maker's Mark she'd produced from the cabinet, pulling it out of her hand and taking a quick swig. His face contorted, and he fought not to spit it back out.
"Woah, okay kiddo." Taylor laughed, taking the bottle away. "Maybe we don't start your first night of drinking out with shots. Is there any Cola in this house?"