Fourteen>>>You're Such A Celebrity
There are 3 degrees of hysterical laughing. The first degree is laughing so hard you cry. This probably happens to you about once a week. The second degree is laughing so hard your stomach aches. This probably happens about once every month. The third and most severe degree is laughing so hard that you feel like you’re going to pee your pants. This probably only happens a couple times a year for the average person. But here I am rolling around on the floor, trying not to piss right then and there, laughing wildly.
Harper laughs and looks over the side of the bed at me. “Get back on the bed you idiot.” I laugh and pull myself up off the floor. Seconds before this I was trying to demonstrate to Harper how Isaac told me you were supposed to have sex when we were kids and fell off the bed in the process. I lay down on the bed next to her again and try to catch my breath back. I don’t know what made me more winded- the imitation of Ike’s 14 year old idea of sex or laughing from falling off the bed.
She grins and hits me in the stomach. “You’re an idiot. It’s not that funny you know.”
This only makes me start laughing harder again. Although, now I just might be laughing because it feels good and I know it- not necessarily because I think it’s that funny.
She’s been at my house for 3 hours and I feel 14 again. We’ve done nothing but hang out in my room, eat chips, watch TV, and laugh. She points to the disco ball lamp on my bookshelf. “How’s that work?”
“Wanna see?”
She nods. I get up and walk over to it, turning it on and turning the lights off. Colorful lights zig-zag all around the room. Watching the lights, I lay back down with her again. “Kinda dumb…my aunt gave it to me a couple years ago for Christmas.”
She smiles and watches the lights everywhere. She looks mesmerized. “I like it.”
While she’s fixated on the lights, I’m fixated on her face. She’s not the typical girl I date. They’re usually mysterious model pretty. They’re usually size 2 in Ralph Lauren jeans and have perfectly kept, long hair. Harper is cute. Don’t get me wrong. But she isn’t perfect looking. Her hair is down for once, wavy on her shoulders. She’s wearing a hooded sweatshirt and pants that make a “swish” sound when she walks. But she’s definitely cute.
“There’s something I should probably tell you.” I tell her. I haven’t wanted to tell her all about the band and how I’m considered to be famous and all the kind of stuff, but she’s going to find out eventually. She clearly doesn’t know yet since she’s never mentioned it.
She looks at me, locking eyes with mine.
“It’s nothing like…bad. It’s just I never mentioned to you about my band. My brothers and I used to have a band about 8 years ago…do you remember the song Mmmbop? You’ve got to remember us. We’re called Hanson…? I’m Taylor Hanson…?” I’m waiting for her face to light up showing me she does know what I’m talking about.
But she only stares at me. “I never heard of Hanson…”
WHAT?! Everyone has heard of us! “Yeah c’mon. You know…we used to have longer hair? All three of us were longhaired and blond? You’ve got to remember us back in like 1997 or even 2000.”
She continues to stare at me. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
I always thought that if someone didn’t know who my band was, I would find it rather refreshing. But now that I’m actually experiencing it, I’m really quite offended!
“Yes it does! HANSON! MMMBOP!?”
I see her crack a smile and she bites her lip, looking away from me.
“What? You remember us now?”
She starts laughing and shakes her head. “Taylor, you guys were all over the media back in 1997. Of course I know who Hanson is and I’ve known you’re Taylor Hanson, the Taylor Hanson, since the moment I met you.”
“Oh.” That’s kind of disappointing. Where is the “Wow you’re Taylor Hanson! You’re famous!” or the “That’s so cool!” that I usually get?
“What? You want me to act all teenyish and freak out about it?”
“I never thought I’d say this but, yeah. No one has in awhile.”
She smiles and nods. “Okay.”
I watch her expectantly.
“Oh my god! I can’t believe you’re Taylor Hanson! You’re such a celebrity! I can’t believe I’m laying next to Taylor Hanson in his room…while his creepy troll stares at me! How do you stand that all the time by the way?”
I can’t help it. I laugh. That was pretty good you have to admit. “You know you’re the only person so phased by that troll.”
We lock eyes again and I bite my lip nervously. No one is talking. We’re laying together in the dark, staring at each other. This definitely counts as one of the top ten more awkward moments of my year. I’m not sure which one of us moved our head closer, but it happened. I close my eyes and touch my lips to hers, waiting for her to respond. She sucks back against my lips lightly. Suddenly I know I want this. She moves her head away and even though my eyes are closed, I know she’s laying there looking at the colors.
“We shouldn’t. The troll is watching us.” She smiles and I can’t help but smile myself. A part of me wants to grab onto her and insist, “No we should!” but another part of me is telling me, “No relationships! She’s just a friend!” I’m a guy though. Take a wild guess what I decide. I stand up and walk over to the windowsill and pick up the pesky troll. I walk over to my door and whip the door open, tossing the troll as far as I can down the hallways.
“Taylor!” She laughs. I crawl back over onto the bed with her and kiss her lips. “No troll watching anymore…” Our lips meet again and she kisses me back. I rest my hand on her side and run my tongue along her lips, hoping she’ll open her mouth a little more and relax. But no. Why would she? That would be far too easy and my life must be as complicated and difficult as possible.
She gets up and runs her fingers through her hair. “It’s late. I should go.”
“Don’t go…” I say quietly, trying to make my voice sound ask husky as I can. Estelle always said it turned her on at night because it gets deeper and scratchier- something I’m not a fan of but I’ll take her word on it since she is a girl.
She takes her keys out of her sweatshirt pocket and goes to the door. “I’ll see you.”
I make a sulky face and whisper, “You know you don’t want to leave…”
She laughs and opens the door. “Goodnight Taylor.”
I sigh and wave. “Night.” I watch her leave and sigh again, loudly, just for effect, watching the colors race around the ceiling. In goes the oreo.