chapter 10: life's never fair

Trinity's Point of View

Dear Journal,
So many days have passed, and so many tears have been cried since I saw Taylor last. I've wanted to write in you, but I haven't been able to even eat, let alone pick up a pen. The only reason I could now is because there is a break in my loneliness. Zac and Isaac told their parents that Tay and I had sex when we were skinny dipping, and now Tay is forbidden to see me for a year. But today I got e-mail from him. It is asking me to meet him in the tree house at midnight. He said it was urgent. It's near ten o'clock now. I haven't seen him for weeks at least. His album is out now, and is pretty much the only memory I can cling to of him. I bought it the day it came out, and immediately fell in love. It hasn't been removed from my CD player since. In fact, I'm listening to it right now, longing for Taylor's voice and touch more than ever. I do not know how the year will go now that Taylor and my relationship is practically over. How many secret meetings will we have until May third next year? Will we keep in touch, or will he fade away from me and more towards his career and his fame? I want to stay with him so badly. He's the only man I've ever really loved, and the only one I'll ever love. There are so many things to think about. Is this hurting him as much as it hurts me? Will he still love me next year? But most of all, will he wait for me?

Trinity

I sighed, threw my journal onto the coffee table, and picked up the remote control. Without much interest I flipped on the TV.

Instead of the usual Jerry Springer or Jenny Jones talk show, before my eyes was a picture of Taylor.

"Taylor Hanson, legendary lead singer of the bubble-gum pop band Hanson, admitted a two and a half months ago on the Rosie O'Donnell show, that he has a girlfriend." A man said. I watched as a small clip of Taylor on the show flashed before me.

"I have a girlfriend. Her name is Trinity."

I had watched, even taped the show, so none of that surprised me. But why was it so important to be on the news? Why two weeks later? The questions in my head were answered quickly, maybe a little too quickly.

First a picture of me came up on the screen as the man continued. "Trinity Jhones is Taylor's girlfriend, and he allegedly had sex with her in a pool on the night of May second."

My mouth dropped and I sprang off the cushion. "Oh my God!" I yelled. It wasn't but a couple seconds later that I saw the ugly face of my past boyfriend, Michael Stornburg, animate the TV screen.

A smile spread across his face, and he grinned wider as he talked. "Yeah, I saw them the other night in a pool. I used to go out with Trinity, so I know it was her. And everybody knows Taylor Hanson."

Without thinking, I grabbed the phone off its hook and pressed it to my ear. I muted the TV and dialed Taylor's number with a shaky hand. Tiny tears were dripping out of my eyes by the time Zac picked up.

"Hello?"

"Zac?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Taylor home?" I tried not to sound like I was crying.

"Of course, but you can't talk to him." I could almost see Zac smile as he built a wall between Tay and I.

"Zac, please. It's urgent." I was starting to get nervous, so I breathed heavier.

"What is it?"

"If I tell you, will you let me talk to him?"

Hesitation. Finally Zac responded. "Okay,"

"The news," I said quickly, to get it over with. "I just saw the news, and my old boyfriend saw Tay and I in the pool. It's all around, and spreading fast, that we had sex."

"Okay," Zac said nonchalantly. "Here you go," then he handed the phone to Taylor.

"Trinity!" Taylor exclaimed quietly. I heard background noises and rustling from his end as he ran to his room.

"Tay, I miss you,"

With my first words he knew something was wrong.

"Are you alright? What's happening?"

"Are you sitting down?" I asked slowly, but with not a hint of happiness as the comment usually suggests.

"Yes."

"Okay. Well, I was just watching the news…and we were on it. It said that you had a girlfriend. But, you know Michael?"

"Yes," his voice sounded as if he wanted to kill Michael, which was okay with me because I wanted to as well.

"He must've seen us skinny dipping, because he told the news people that we had sex that night." Just then I let out a sob that I had been holding in for a long time it seemed.

"Oh God. Don't cry baby," Taylor comforted me.

I spoke my feelings before realizing that Tay was listening. "I want, I need your arms right now. Tay, I have to see you. We can't stay apart for so long, it hurts. Please, how can we meet?"

It seemed as if Taylor had made a back-up plan ahead of time. "It's okay. Look, they'll see us if we go to the tree house. Just grab a couple blankets and meet me in the old broken-down mansion on Cedar Street in a couple minutes."

It was so risky that it was worth it. My word was shaky. "O-okay."

"I love you. I'll see you soon."

"I love you too," I answered carefully, trying not to cry any more.

A hesitant click on the other line followed my words. I held the phone to my ear a while longer, as if in doubt. Then I slowly hung up as well.

Getting away from everything seemed so perfect just then. It seemed like the only option I had.

I folded up a crocheted red and yellow blanket and put a pillow under my free arm. I packed a change of clothes and a hairbrush into the pillow case and threw some sandals on my feet. Without leaving a note, a footprint, or any other sign of my leaving, I slipped out the door and onto the lawn, under the purple midnight sky.

ooo

A small flame was already flickering in the old ash-filled fireplace when I found Taylor resting on a balled up jacket in the corner.

His eyes fluttered open as soon as my footsteps became close enough for him to hear. I dropped my stuff on the dusty floor and collapsed in his arms. I hugged him tightly, drowning in his scent.

"I've missed you so much," I murmured into his hair, and it was the most sincere thing I'd said in a long time.

"Mmm…kiss me," Taylor responded, then brought his lips to mine.

I comfortably laid on top of him as we kissed, my hair falling in all directions.

It felt satisfying, finally getting to kiss him again, after so long. It was as if I had filled out a rain check, and I was finally being paid off; like I had been walking in the rain for hours, when a rainbow appeared. But the reality of it all, just the fact that I was seeing somebody so restricted, made me hurt with such ecstasy.

The kiss went on for a long, tingling period of time, in which I became quite skilled at breathing through my nose only. This came in handy right away, and I was glad I had learned it. It made the kiss more enjoyable for both of us. It was amazing how good something could just feel when all I was seeing was black oblivion.

The kiss broke when I no longer saw black, but white. A brief flash passed before my closed eyes, then quickly disappeared. I was too enthralled to even hear the vital sound of a click. I forced my eyes to open, forced my lips away from Taylor's, and forced my head to turn so I could find the source of this interruption.

My only clue to the case was the giggling coming from the main hallway, somewhere near the gray stone statue of a naked Greek god. Taylor perked up, and knew in an instant that it was his brothers. He yelled their names in a strange way: with force and power but also weakness and uncertainty. We aren't supposed to be seeing each other, I reminded myself. And Zac and Ike know it. As the thought ran through my head, I felt doomed. I moved so that Taylor could stand, and huddled in the corner with his coat while he took care of the culprits of doing whatever they did.

Turned out there was only one culprit, which made more sense because it had sounded like only one voice laughing.

"Zac!" Taylor called into the shadows of the old house. His voice echoed off the walls and through the cobwebs.

After a brief hesitation period, Zac scurried out of the darkness like a little mouse searching for cheese. At first, I couldn't make out what the black blob around his neck was, but the white piece of film that Zac was waving around and blowing on was unmistakable.

I just huddled in the corner like a frightened animal while Taylor jumped up and grabbed the Polaroid picture from Zac.

I knew by that time that it was a picture of us kissing. The first thing that went through my head was that we were going to be in big trouble unless Tay and Zac made some sort of deal. I also knew that Taylor would try as hard as he could to compromise with Zac, so I didn't have much to worry about.

As the picture developed before Tay, his eyes got wider and wider. "Zac, how could you?" his voice said weakly. "I can't believe-"

"You aren't supposed to be seeing her!" Zac cried, obviously happy with the fact that he had caught us doing something we shouldn't have been.

"I know but…Zac, have you ever been in love?" Taylor, being his poetic self, was going to try and explain the situation through a talk about love.

"Well…I don't think so," Zac answered, calming down slowly.

I started to build a little nest with all of the blankets and jackets around me, but I listened to Tay's every word. "Just think. You meet the girl of your dreams. You love her so much that you decide to go skinny-dipping with her. You don't do anything, just fool around, but everybody makes a big deal about it. The press finds out, and blows up the story even more. Then, to make matters worse, you're banned from seeing her for a whole year! I couldn't just forget what we had and put it off until next year. I love her too much." Taylor's voice was soft and heartfelt.

I was insanely happy that Taylor had admitted he his love for me. I knew that, of course, but it was just the fact that he couldn't forget me that brought me close to tears.

"Well, I can see that," Zac said, admiring the photograph.

"I've missed her so much for the past couple of weeks," Taylor threw in. "Zac, why did you do this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Zac asked the room. "Blackmail, duh," he smacked his forehead.

"Okay, what do you want me to do?" Taylor knew that if his parents saw the picture, dated 7/26/00, they would ground him even more.

Zac pondered, although he had probably decided ahead of time what he wanted Tay to do in order for him to keep the picture secret. "How about you buy me three new pairs of drumsticks?"

"Three?" Taylor exclaimed. "Those are expensive!"

"Okay," Zac shrugged. "Mom! Dad!"

Taylor cupped a hand over Zac's mouth. "Okay," he gave in. "I'll do it. Just go away,"

Zac pushed Tay's hand away, snatched the picture, and walked out. I listened as the door closed slowly. Taylor walked over to make sure he was gone, then came back to me.

"That was close," I gushed, pulling him back down onto the pile of blankets and coats that I had made. It was very soft and bouncy, like a waterbed.

"This is nice," he complimented on my handiwork, patting it gently.

"We're sleeping here tonight, aren't we?" I asked.

"Yes," it was simple, but it meant a lot. We would be sleeping in the same place for the first time. It wasn't really a bed, but it was close enough to be significant.

I slowly smiled. "I brought a change of clothes,"

"You're very organized,"

"Sometimes too organized," I explained, laughing a little between the words, and pulling my hairbrush out from inside the pillowcase.

Taylor began to laugh with me. "Wow," he finally said. "You're really organized."

Soon we were holding each other, trying to calm ourselves down. I ended my laughter with a large yawn. It wasn't but a couple seconds later when Taylor copied me. That just sent us into more fits of laughter, but it felt so good after frowning and mourning for so long.

We eventually found ourselves back where we had started, kissing again. Kissing Taylor never grew old, like a toy that a small child just had to have. No, Taylor's kisses were always wonderful. I never wanted them to end.

When we pulled away I confessed that I wanted to explore the house.

"I'm tired," Taylor said, "But I'll come with you for a while." He stood up and brushed himself off, then held out his hand.

I grabbed it and hoisted myself up. I intertwined my fingers with his as we strolled into the old kitchen with not much fear at all.

"Did you know there's a legend behind this house?" Taylor asked as he pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. The table was worn and dirty, with one very short leg. A small, dusty chandelier hung above it.

"No," I said, intrigued already. "Tell me…?"

"Have a seat."

I hesitantly pulled a chair across the floor across from him. A leg scratched the floor and squeaked a bit. It made even more noise as I sat down, but since it didn't immediately collapse, I trusted the chair.

Taylor began to speak in his speech voice, low and hoarse. "It started innocently enough. An old woman named Cassandra Fitch, who barely spoke to anyone, lived here with just a few black cats. She wasn't very suspicious-looking, but very mysterious and secretive. She stayed out of the world's eye. If you ever saw her it was when she was buying the things she needed at the store. In fact, that was the only time I ever saw her. I knew it was her because people had told me what she looked like, and what she bought. They were right. She had some weird things in her cart. There was a bottle of bright purple hair dye, the kind that only stays in your hair for a couple hours and then it gets all crusty. The only other things I remember, besides food of course, were lots and lots of cleaning supplies. There were rolls of paper towels, scrub brushes, floor cleaners, and towels. There was even a mop. I heard that she re-stocked these things with each trip she made to the supermarket. It was strange. There could have been an explanation for the hair dye, but not the cleaning stuff. Even if she was a clean freak, that's a lot of money shelled out each month."

"Yeah, that's weird." I was greatly interested. "So, what happened?"

Taylor continued. "Nearly six years ago on the eve of Halloween, Cassandra Fitch disappeared. She left her house the same way it was years ago, without a trace. It was as if she vanished into thin air. Since then, police have come in and removed most of the valuables and things. It's just intriguing, though, isn't it?"

I nodded.

"What really happened to her? It's hard to hide murder, but then again, if someone killed her, they must've been very smart to be able to cover up something like that."

"Yeah," I agreed again, looking around with a brand-new fear.

"But don't worry," Taylor comforted me. "She could've ran off or something. It wasn't particularly murder, but it excites people to think that the ground they're standing on was once a crime scene."

"It doesn't excite me one bit," I cried, frightened, as I jumped out of my chair. "It scares me."

"Do you want to go back by the fire?"

I took one look at the knifes strewn about the kitchen counter like confetti and turned away. "Yes,"

"Alright," Taylor took my hand and guided me back to our pad.

Taylor sat beside the fire and fed newspaper scraps to it from a bag he had brought, while I made myself comfortable under the blankets.

"You know how I said it was urgent in the e-mail?" Taylor asked me.

"Yeah. What was that all about?"

"Well, I have something to tell you."

My heart lurched. It could be anything, good or bad. The suspense was killing me already.

"You know how the album just came out and all," he continued, just torturing me more.

"Yes," I answered quickly, urging him on.

"Well, we have to promote the new CD. We're going on tour for four months, starting tomorrow night."

I sat up like a mechanical doll. "What?" I cried. "Four months?" It felt like an eternity. I missed him already.

"I'm so sorry baby," he apologized sincerely, kissing my forehead. "We have to. It'll be fun. All of it except the part about being without you." He sighed, pushed the bag to the side, and climbed into the makeshift bed with me.

"I can't believe…" I started, but couldn't bear to finish.

"We can talk on the phone easier this way. I'll call you. We can write as well, and e-mail. It will be okay."

It sure didn't seem okay. If he left, there wouldn't be any more secret meetings. Then a thought came to me. "Then this is the last time you'll see me for four months,"

"Well, not exactly," He said as he fumbled in his pockets for something. "I got you this." He handed me a concert ticket.

It read, "Hanson at the Tulsa Performing Arts Center. Row B, Seat 5."

"Oh my God…" was all I could say. I was shocked and angry with his band at the same time. I didn't want him to go, but it was his life and his career.

"Tomorrow night, after the concert, you can come backstage and say good-bye to me,"

"Oh, Tay," I hugged him tightly, the ticket clutched in my hand. "I wish you could stay,"

"I do too," he sighed to me. "But life's never fair. When I get back home I'll re-pay you."

Something to look forward to sounded nice, maybe even nice enough to pull me through four months of loneliness without killing me.