Fifteen>>>Remember When
Trying to use my knee to steer, I reach into the backseat frantically as my cell phone rings for the 3rd time. Harper is supposed to call and I don’t want to miss her. I snatch my cell phone from my jacket pocket in the backseat and flip it open.
“Tay? It’s Estelle.”
I pause for a second and frown. Estelle who hates me? Estelle who doesn’t want me in her life? Estelle who would never call me is on the other line? It can’t be possible.
“Uhhh…Estelle who?” I ask.
“What? Taylor it’s me. How many Estelle’s do you know?” Now I feel like an idiot.
“You’d be surprised,” I say truthfully, because after all, I did meet another Estelle.
“Anyway,” She says impatiently, “I was wondering if you’d want to have dinner with me tonight.”
Okay, which one of my brothers paid her to call me? No, seriously. This is unnatural.
“Pardon?” I say
“Taylor, what is your problem? You seem clueless.”
“Sorry,” I frown, “Dinner? Uhhhh yeah sure, what day?” Addicted, I told you.
“I said tonight.”
“Right.”
“Does seven o clock work for you?”
I’m about to say yes but realize I seem far too pathetic.
“Can we do seven-thirty instead? I’m meeting some friends for a bit beforehand.” Okay, so I’m still pathetic, a pathetic liar in fact, but she doesn’t know that.
“Seven-thirty is fine. Pick me up.”
“Yes ma’am.” I mentioned I’m pathetic right? Just making sure.
I’m sitting across from Estelle drinking my glass of wine. I’ve purposely bumped my knee into her twice throughout the evening. It’s very thrilling, as dumb as that sounds. My knee just bumped into her a third time, this time by accident, and I know that’s one too many times. I move my legs far away from her and clear my throat.
“But I’m glad classes are, you know, going well.” I tell her, making eye contact. I know this is something most girls cannot resist about Taylor Hanson. I don’t know why I am trying to get her to like me, especially with how well things have been going with Harper, but I cannot help it.
She nods and pushes around some of the food on her plate. “And that’s great that…you’re new job is actually working out now,” she says politely.
I grin at her, “Hey remember how I used to always hide that stuffed panda in your room?” Don’t ask, really.
She cracks a smile, “Yes where is it?!”
I start laughing but I’m secretly thinking, ‘See you shouldn’t have broken up with me until I told you where I hid it the last time.’
“I don’t know…should I tell you?” I raise an eyebrow, “Do you deserve to know…?”
“Probably not,” She says, and I take this as an apology for the way she’s been treating me since I know it’s the best apology I’ll ever get from a stubborn girl like Estelle, “But you’re a nice guy. It’s only kind to tell me.”
“I don’t want to be kind,” I confess, “Being evil is much more exciting.” I give an evil laugh and finish off my wine, grinning at her.
She grins back and takes my wrist, examining the brown and red bracelet tied to it. “You still wear this?” She’s referring to the bracelet she made me over the summer at the camp she worked at.
I nod and frown for a moment, but I cannot let her see any weaknesses in me. Instead I joke, “You put your sweat and tears into this bracelet. How could I ever take it off?”
She smiles and touches my fingers. Now I don’t know what to think.
“You bite your nails too much, you know that?” She tells me, letting go of my hand and letting it fall onto the edge of a plate.
“You can never make up your mind, you know THAT?” I call her on it. She tells me she doesn’t want me in her life and here she is stroking my fingers!
“Of course I can make up my mind.” She informs me, and I watch her put on her jacket, “And I have. And I wanted to tell you in person that I’ve moved on from you. And I am glad that we’re not in each other’s lives anymore.”
I can feel rage starting to boil inside of me. I watch her take a twenty out of her purse and set it on the table.
“I should be going,” she says. “I promised Nate I’d meet him tonight.”
“What? Your ex-boyfriend Nate? What are you back together again?”
“Yes, and no,” She says, standing up and putting her purse on. “It was nice seeing you one final time, Taylor.”
“Estelle, you’re a fucking…you’re a fucking bitch.” I couldn’t believe it came out of my mouth. I was crude sometimes, and I was vulgar, but not this crude and not this vulgar.
“I’m a bitch because I don’t want to be with you.” She replies as if it’s that simple.
“You know exactly why you’re a bitch, messing with my head when you KNOW I’ve moved on.”
We stare at each other for a moment. I’d like to think we’re both feeling a touch of sentimentality as well as anger, but I think that’s just me.
“Just go home, Estelle,” I tell her, “I’m with someone else now and-”
“Oh?” She questions, “Which is why your knee randomly hit into my knee over and over again tonight?”
“Shut up.” It’s all I can think to say.
She nods, as if I’ve confirmed my idiocy to her, and looks to the door.
“You never cease to impress me Taylor. Goodnight,” she says. With that, she walks out.
I glance at the waiter standing above me, looking at me with a fake look of empathy on his face.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I say, “It’s like in the movies when some pushover jerk is always getting left at the restaurant alone. Except the movie of my life doesn’t have the typical happy ending.”