chapter 12: stay satisfied

Trinity's Point of View

When I wanted to get away, I went to Donna's. I was feeling down, with Taylor being gone and all. Not to mention my mind, which was swimming with thoughts of my mother.

It wasn't the first day my mom crept into my thoughts since I'd met Taylor. I thought about her every day I was alone. But when I was talking to, kissing, hugging, thinking about, or just overall being with Taylor; I was too occupied and too cheerful to have my thoughts interrupted. I felt like a prisoner of my own town. Why was I punished so harshly like this? Why was I penalized? Why did my baby have to travel away from me, just when things were nice and sweet?

Well, I thought. This must be how it feels not to see him for a year. It had only been a month, but it had felt like a year all in itself. Every minute seemed like an hour, every hour like a day. The seconds dragged by like snails. Even the milliseconds took their time. Donna tried to change all that, but it wasn't as easy as she predicted.

"So, have you been keeping in contact with Taylor?" she asked, her cheeks bulging with popcorn.

"Yeah," I answered, reaching for another handful. "He has written me a couple letters."

"When's he getting back from touring?"

"November twentieth," I answered automatically. It was a date I knew well, one I'd marked on my calendar and written in every planner I owned.

"Oh, so you have a couple more months,"

I sighed and nodded slowly. "Yeah,"

"Does he ever call you?"

It was a simple question, not meant to hurt my feelings, but it did. I felt a little rejected, a little forgotten, as I quietly peeped. "Well, not yet, he hasn't, no."

Donna just nodded. "I should make some more popcorn," she observed, standing up and picking up the silver bowl.

I nodded back lamely and watched as she exited. I sighed again and looked around. Donna's room was colorful in so many ways. In so many ways it was different, and better, than mine.

There was a green inflatable couch on one wall, while her tropical bird and flower bed was leaned against another. Occupying the floor was usually a rainbow colored shag rug, but right then our sleeping bags were thrown over it.

Against Donna's hot pink sleeping bag, my dark blue one was bland and uninteresting. I slept with a plain old teddy bear, but Donna's companion was a giraffe with bulging eyes named Betsy. Even her pajamas were superior to mine, I noticed, as she walked in and plopped back down on her pillow across from me. She placed the bowl of fresh popcorn in its original spot and began to eat from it.

"So," she went on. "How are you going to keep yourself busy while he's gone?"

"That's why I came here," I told her.

"No, no, silly. I mean with guys."

This confused me. "I don't understand. I'm still with Tay."

"Technically, you're not, since you're forbidden to see him for a year."

Technically. I hated that word. I rolled it over and over in my mind, trying to make sense of it. I got an idea of what she was getting at, but I was too afraid to ask.

"We'll keep seeing each other secretly once he gets back," I contradicted.

"But what're you going to do until then?"

"You're really confusing me."

"Trinity," Donna sighed, a little aggravated. "Are you going to see any other guys while he's gone?"

"Of course not." That was a stupid idea. I didn't want to see any other guys anyway.

"Why not? I mean, you have to stay satisfied."

I wasn't really mad at Donna, just overly annoyed. How dare she even suggest that I cheat on Taylor?

"No way, that would be like cheating or something!"

"No, no it wouldn't," She shook her head, digging for more popcorn. "Since you can't see him, you're not really going out. Therefore, you can see other guys."

In a way, that made sense, and strangely, Donna made it sound all right.

"But I wouldn't be able to find a decent guy anyway," It stunned me that I was even considering doing such a thing.

"Of course you would! You got someone as great as Tay, so why wouldn't you be able to do it again? Just until he comes back from his tour."

"Donna, I don't-"

"Come on. What do you have to lose?"

I sighed, my mind saying, 'nothing,' but my heart screaming, 'Taylor!'

"Why are we even talking about this?" I asked finally. "Do you have somebody in mind or something?"

A grin spread across Donna's popcorn-greased lips. "Well, actually…"

ooo

A blind date. What a stupid idea. At least it wasn't mine. It was Donna's fault, but I still went along with it.

Why was I getting so worked up? The guy was probably ugly like all blind dates. Supposedly, he was one of Donna's cousin's friends. Donna said that he was an awesome guy who would take my breath away. I found that hard to believe. Plus, Taylor was my breath-taker, and always would be.

I chuckled as I remembered Donna saying that I need to stay 'satisfied.' It satisfied me to just get e-mail from Taylor. I was simple, and easy to please. That's why I kept wondering why I even considered going out with someone else. What a crazy predicament I was in.

The weird thing was, though, that I was obsessing over my appearance for this mystery guy.

My hair was not cooperating, and it bothered me more than I wanted. My bangs didn't curl the right way, even with a curling iron. I didn't even know where we were going. If I wore a skirt we would probably go roller-skating, if I wore jeans we would go to a fancy restaurant.

I just put on some jeans with cute little silver rhinestones down the seams and prayed that he wouldn't wear a tuxedo and drive up in a limousine.

My shirt was baby blue, and more rhinestones spelled "Princess" across the front.

I sighed to my full-length mirror, grabbed my small black purse, fixed my hair once more, and jetted down the stairs. My father was lying draped over the couch; his large stomach bulging out of his tight white shirt as it grew and fell. I silently thanked him for falling asleep. Then I stood, stiff and hesitant, beside the door.

Every so often I looked at my watch, each time calculating how late my date was. Donna had claimed to have arranged the whole thing. She told me I had nothing to worry about. He was a great guy and he wouldn't be late. Well, that was a lie already. He was five minutes late, my watch read. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty passed by and there was no sign.

I was hurt. Extremely hurt. I'd never been stood up like this before. But then again, I'd never been stood up. This was the first time. Maybe my watch was wrong. I looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. Then I looked at the one in my room. Last I turned on the TV Guide Channel on the TV. They all read the same time: 8:23. I was doomed.

I leaned against the wall and slid down it until I got to the floor. Collapsing in a pile, I began to softly cry. I didn't even think about why I was crying. It just seemed like a natural reaction to the harsh reality that I had gotten ready for nothing. My make-up began to smear and slide down my face, but it didn't matter. No one was there to see it, anyway.

Just then, a knocking seemed to shake the silent house. I looked up, horrified, and realized in an instant that my date was outside. Cursing under my breath, I scrambled to stand and ran up the stairs to the bathroom.

My face was red and puffy, and my make-up was disgusting. Quickly, I tore off a square of toilet paper and scrubbed my face clean. Pieces of paper stuck to my face and I rinsed it quickly. I dried my face with a towel and glanced in the mirror for barely a second before I dashed back down the stairs. I knew I looked a little disgruntled, but the thought faded away as I smoothed out my jeans and opened the door.

The face and the body that stood before me were both incredible. His face was gorgeous, very smooth and lean, with a natural tan. His hair, which hung in soft waves on each side of his head, was a sweet strawberry blonde, unlike Taylor's. Tay's hair was more of a dirty dishwater blonde, but this was the pure essence of blonde hair right before me. His smile was perfect. This man's teeth were shiny, white, and straight. His grin was slightly lopsided, but seemed perfect in so many ways. I hated to admit that Donna was right, but it was so true. He took my breath away.

My heart stopped for a couple seconds, along with my breathing. When I finally gained my composure again, he was handing me a huge bouquet of flowers. When I took them I realized that he was, in fact, wearing a suit. I felt really weird in jeans, but I tried to push the fact away and focus on the guy. He didn't seem to mind, anyway.

"Hello, my name is Xavier." He had an accent, which sounded mostly English. It was a beautiful accent, though, rich and warm. His words flowed wonderfully together, as if they rhymed. "And you must be…Trinity?" He held out his hand.

I shifted the flowers to my left hand and shook his with my right. "Yeah," I said, feeling as if I should be more proper around him. "I mean," I corrected. "Yes, I am Trinity."

"I've heard great things about you,"

I blushed, quickly put the flowers in a vase, and returned to the door, without offering to let him in. I felt myself getting skittish.

"Thank you," I said simply, melting in his chocolate brown eyes. They were so different than what I was used to. Taylor's sky blue eyes flashed in my mind for a second, then they were gone. That was the last time I even thought about Taylor the whole night.

Xavier led me out to his convertible and even opened the side door for me. I felt like a denim princess, especially when the warm summer air hit my face and Xavier turned on some classical music on low volume.

Even the way Xavier drove was exquisite, like a special wine; slowly and gently. He never ran a yellow light. Each time he stopped, it was smooth and gradual. The reason I noticed these things was because we drove for a long period of time.

I knew we were going somewhere fancy, where jeans would be looked upon as demons. It scared me to think I would be stared at, but Xavier casually slung his arm around me as we drove and made my thoughts vanish.

I'd never been to such a dainty restaurant. It was tiny, on the outskirts of town, with barely any advertising. I'd never even heard of it. It was beautiful, though. The lights were dimmed, and there was a small dance floor at the front. In the back were delicate little tables with bleached white tablecloths. Candles were lit on the tables and the silverware was the best of the best. The plates were white with golden rims and intricate paintings of flowers in the center.

The place was somewhere you'd take your girlfriend if you were going to propose to her. It was certainly not a first date area.

But I went with it.

A table for two was set up in the very back. I quietly took my spot across from him, crossing my legs and folding my napkin over them.

Xavier was done with that before I could even pick my napkin up.

The menu was the scariest part of the whole dinner. I could stand the sappy music and miniature tables, but the menu was just strange. I could barely understand what the meal was, there were so many adjectives thrown in there to trick you. Something was "juicy" and "delectable," while another was "incredible" and "unusually tender." When the waiter came, I didn't know what I wanted. But Xavier assumed I did.

"Well, good day old chap!" Xavier greeted the sturdy, black-haired waiter that perched before us.

"Oh, hello, Xavier," the waiter slurred slowly, without interest.

They were already acquainted? What an odd thought.

"Just the usual, Florence."

"Mm, yes," answered the skinny waiter, scribbling on a pad.

Flustered, I told Florence that I wanted the same thing as Xavier.

"Caviar, miss?" Florence asked, appalled.

I'd never tasted caviar in my life, but I was told that it was disgusting. Not wanting to appear stupid, I said simply, "Yes, thank you."

Florence just nodded and retreated to another table.

I folded my hands plainly in my lap, looking all around at the sterile atmosphere.

"So, Trinity. What are your favorite things to do?" Xavier asked me exotically, taking a slight sip of his water.

I knew anything I answered would sound completely strange to him. I liked to talk on the phone, write in my journal, lay at home on the couch with no cares in the world, and run through the sprinkler. That would be taken in a weird way by this man, though. I had to think of something else, and quick.

"I like to ski," I commented, figuring it wasn't a lie since I remotely knew how.

"Ah yes, skiing is a wonderful sport," He tipped his head in approval.

"Very much so," I answered, laughing hesitantly. I felt so elegant, so rich, and so taken in by this crowd of people. Which was bizarre, because I was wearing jeans.

The service was fast, unlike at the pizza place. We barely had time to talk before the sullen waiter came back. That was good, though. I didn't have to lie anymore.

He placed two silver platters in front of Xavier and I, with shiny tops to keep the food warm.

I managed a strained smile and winced as the waiter stalked off.

Xavier smiled as he pulled the top of his dinner.

I just cringed.

Pinkish red fish eggs were spread out daintily. I knew what caviar was. I'd never tasted it before in my life. It looked absolutely horrendous. Xavier began to dig in, while I just stared maliciously at my subject and picked at it a little with my fork.

"Do you like caviar?" Xavier asked curiously, trying to make casual conversation.

"Oh yes, of course." I answered quickly, trying to steer away from the subject.

Throughout the dinner I tasted a little of the caviar; just enough to want to puke. Then I told him that I was full. Oddly, he seemed to believe me.

I was definitely not full. I was actually very, very hungry. I decided to pig out on ice cream when I got home, as I climbed into his jet black car.

Xavier smiled as he drove. I watched his lips twitch slightly. "Did you like the dinner?" he asked, still grinning ear-to-ear.

"Yes," I lied. "It was…wonderful,"

"Good," he answered, slurring slightly and holding out the O's.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and tried to smile. The night had been anything but glamorous. I made a mental note to call Donna as soon as I got home.

When we finally pulled into my driveway, he walked me to the door. A good-bye kiss was customary, so he dramatically put his arms around my waist and pulled my lips to his.

He tasted too sanitary and clean, like he had practiced his whole life to know how to kiss a girl. His lips were dry, and even though his looks were stunning, I was happy to watch him drive off.

That was when I realized how good off I was with Taylor.

ooo

I thought nothing more of Xavier. He seemed like just a toy to me, a plaything that kept me busy for a while when I was bored. I didn't feel at all like I had deceived Taylor. I'd barely talked to Xavier, barely touched him, and barely kissed him. The kiss was distasteful anyway.

He didn't have my number, and I didn't have his. We had no way to keep in contact. That made me feel much better. After that night, Xavier was just a mere name.