chapter 5: kiss me goodnight

Taylor's Point of View

I wouldn't have heard anything if I hadn't gotten a sudden urge to eat. Zac's white bunny slippers with bendable ears were the only things I could find in the dark to warm up my feet, which were as cold as popsicles. Silently I walked down the stairs, wearing only my red and green plaid boxers. Although feeling blind in the dark kitchen, I finally found the refrigerator. I accidentally knocked a few magnets off as I opened it. I knew what I wanted to eat as soon as I saw the large jar of green kosher dills. Carefully jabbing two pickles with a fork, I wrapped them in a couple layers of napkins. Placing the jar back in the refrigerator, I sat down at the kitchen table and unwrapped the first pickle. I was sucking on it when I was distracted by a sound. I thought I heard someone weeping, outside. Slowly I set the pickle down on the table and stood up. After being sure I wasn't imagining it, I opened the front door and peered out. I saw nothing. I figured it wouldn't take very long, kicked off Zac's slippers, and crept outside.

At first, I had no idea where the sound was coming from. When a loud sob came from the tree house, however, I realized where the person was hiding. Carefully I crept through the prickly grass and found the first board nailed onto the tree. Quietly I climbed up, slivers of wood digging into the soles of my bare feet. The sight at the top of the tree house was so sad it was almost horrifying.

A girl, at the time looking about half the age I guessed she was, was huddled in the corner.

Her legs were pulled to her chest, and tears were sliding down her cheeks. As she looked up, a mixture of fear, sadness, and humiliation were clearly written across her face. I wanted to know who she was, but somehow that didn't feel like the right thing to ask.

"Are you all right?" I pushed the thought that I was barely wearing any clothes to the back of my mind and climbed all the way up.

"Who are you?" the girl whimpered, then started crying again.

"I live here," I said, then realized that wasn't the answer to her question. I was surprised. She either had never heard of my band, or was too upset to notice I was Taylor Hanson.

"My name's Taylor," I added when she didn't say anything.

She looked around, probably realizing that she was on someone else's property. "I'm Trinity," she choked, and put her head in her hands as if ashamed of her name.

Slowly and hesitantly, I moved closer and put one of my arms on hers. Lightly I rubbed, to warm her up, while I asked what happened.

Trinity said nothing, but inched closer to me. "I'm cold," she whispered.

That was just the invitation I needed, but I was still skeptical. "Would you like to come inside and warm up?" I asked.

She accepted immediately.

ooo

"So, I slapped him," Trinity scooped a pale pink marshmallow out of her cocoa with a spoon.

I had a shirt on now - a white wife-beater tank top - one of four that I loved to wear because it accented what muscles I had. I watched Trinity's every move with sincere interest.

She waited a moment to see if I was going to say anything, ate the marshmallow, and continued. "I slammed the door in his face and started to run down the hill, but he followed me. I ran faster than I've ever run. Finally, I found your tree house, and I hid from him. Luckily, he ran right past and didn't see me. You know the rest."

I nodded, grateful that I had found her. She looked very cute and snug, wrapped tightly in one of my fuzzy fleece blankets. It looked like an Indian quilt because it was red, green, and white, with a sort of thunderbird in the center.

"I heard you crying," I finished for her.

Trinity nodded wearily.

"Tired?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Would you like to spend the night?" I didn't think before saying this.

I was about to regret asking when Trinity smiled a little and said, "Well, I don't have anywhere else to go." Yet, she seemed more anxious than the words suggested.

ooo

It wasn't long after the lights went out that Trinity whispered my name.

"Yes?" I whispered back from my bed. She was in a sleeping bag on the carpet beside me.

There was a hint of silence, perhaps hesitation, before Trinity spoke again. "Kiss me goodnight…?" she said it softly, as a question.

I could say no, but I didn't. In fact, I didn't say anything. I slowly stirred, pushed the covers off my body, and kneeled beside Trinity.

Her eyes, appearing black in the darkness of my room, sparkled with what I thought was hopeful excitement, while a tiny smile crept up her lips.

She tasted like citrus: a rich blend of pineapples, mangos, and bananas. You name the fruit, she tasted like it. I kissed her softly, and with care. I never knew kisses tasted so wonderful. I wonder if the whole female population tastes this way, or just Trinity. That was when I hoped that I would never have to kiss any other girl, besides Trinity, for the rest of my life.

I was in love. I barely knew anything about her, but that didn't matter. She was fun loving and beautiful. She understood me, and she wasn't demanding. Everything about her seemed perfect.

Slowly she brought her hand up to my cheek and pulled me closer.

"Mm…" I murmured. It felt so good. My hand found it's way to her limp ringlets of hair, carefully running my fingers through it.

This was greeted by Trinity's light moan. "Taylor…"

It was such a short session, at least in my eyes. I could've kissed her forever, and have no trouble at all doing it. I pulled away, feeling as if I had tasted heaven.

Trinity thanked me and smiled, satisfied.

I smiled back, perhaps even wider than she did. "You're welcome." I crawled back into bed with a large grin plastered on my face.

"I hope I dream about you," she confessed.

"I hope I dream about you," I repeated, and I meant it.

ooo

I should've kissed Trinity instead of shaking her, but I was too afraid. She wasn't waking up, no matter what I did to her. She was dreaming about me because she kept mumbling my name. I smiled a little and decided to let her sleep.

The first problem that popped into my mind as I closed the bedroom door behind me and walked downstairs, was what to tell my family. I could probably tell Isaac without much trouble, but the biggest dilemma was telling my parents and Zac. They would be appalled that I had let some girl into our house that I barely even knew. I reminded myself, as I slowly walked down the stairs, that it was for a good cause.

My little brother, Mackenzie, scrambled across the floor in a diaper, a couple other tots following close behind. My father was cleaned up, early as usual, and leaning back on the recliner with the newspaper spread in front of his face. I just missed kicking the kids as I made my way to the kitchen.

"Hey, there you are," was the first thing Isaac said to me. "Help us make breakfast."

"It's our turn." Zac grumbled sadly, cracking eggs into a big black pan.

"Alright," I agreed, deciding to drop the bomb. "I have to tell you guys something." I got some orange juice out of the refrigerator and poured it into nine cups.

"Zoë doesn't drink out of a cup, Tay," Isaac pointed out.

"I know," I sighed. "That's what I have to talk to you guys about."

Zac was confused. "Tell us," he demanded.

"Well…" I took a deep breath. "I found a girl in our tree house last night, and I let her spend the night."

I watched the egg white drip down Zac's arm as he stared in amazement at my words. Isaac's mouth hung open. Behind him, coffee in the middle of brewing, bubbled.

I kept getting silverware out of the drawer.

"You did what?!" Zac whispered loudly.

I knew Zac would be surprised, maybe even annoyed. "I let her spend the night," I repeated.

"What were you thinking? You don't even know her!"

"I know her!" I contradicted.

"Dad's going to kill you." Isaac cut in.

I sighed. "I know."

Just then, as I was placing the last fork on the table, soft footsteps padded down the stairs. Everything fell silent. Mackenzie, Avery, and Jessica stared, wide-eyed, at Trinity. My father, stunned by the silence of three usually noisy kids, slowly put the newspaper down.

Time seemed to go in slow motion as I watched my dad's eyes dart back and forth and eventually focus on Trinity. The fact that she was wearing one of my big sleeping shirts and her hair was falling out of her bun in tired wisps was a dead giveaway.

"Taylor!?" my father cried, knowing I was the culprit.

Trinity, embarrassed, glanced around the house nervously.

I stuttered at first. "This is Trinity, Dad. I'm sorry. She was in the tree house last night. She had nowhere to go," I protested.

My father inspected Trinity. "Where do you live?"

To my surprise, Trinity named a street adjoining ours.

"We live really close to you!" I looked at her, astonished. This was better than I thought.

"You do?" she was just as surprised as I was.

"Then you do have somewhere to go," my dad shot back.

"Yes, sir, but I don't want to go there." Trinity wasn't lying. She wanted to be with me, she just didn't come right out and say it.

"Well, Taylor," my father sipped a little coffee out of his cup. "Later you'll have to explain this to your mother and I. She can stay for breakfast, but then she goes home."

Trinity's smile, which she had been holding high for mostly the whole conversation, dropped drastically at the prospect of leaving.

"How come?" I knew I was pushing it. So did Zac and Ike. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the egg white was still dripping down Zac's arm, and I would've bet money that Isaac's mouth was still hanging open.

"Just for now," my dad reasoned, shooting me a "be-quiet-now" glance.

I sighed and looked over at Trinity.

She was playing with Mackenzie, and talking baby talk to him. How cute, I thought. "I'm going to finish making breakfast," I announced, and returned to the kitchen. Trinity remained on the edge of the last stair, holding Mackie in her lap.

Finally I knew what it meant to stall breakfast. Unfortunately, Zac and Isaac didn't feel like stalling with me. I worked as slowly as possible, pouring the pancake batter onto the griddle, set on its lowest heat. I waited patiently as the pancakes cooked, my mind swimming with thoughts.

Giggles and other strange baby noises were floating in from the living room. I smiled a little.

The breakfast, as all of our household's are, was huge. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, orange juice, hash browns, and Zac's usual strawberry Pop Tart were all laid perfectly on the table, steam rising from almost every pan. Trinity was pretty nervous, to say the least.

My mother woke up just as we were sitting down. Trinity was across from me, her back towards the living room. Mom rubbed her eyes and did a double-take before sitting down next to my father. She said nothing, but her face told it all.

"This is Trinity," I repeated the story as I motioned ahead of me.

My mom smiled weakly, probably deciding to find out why Trinity was there and where she came from, later.

I started passing the plates and pots of food around. Trinity took only a small portion of each, trying not to look like a pig. I wanted to tell her that it was okay, but of course I could not.

Usually our breakfasts are loud and eventful, but this one held an unusual silence. Our eyes met across the table several times. My message that she could take however much food she wanted, failed to be delivered.

Jessica, Avery, and Mackie already had quite a respect for what they thought was their new baby-sitter. The only one who probably realized that she wasn't a baby-sitter was eleven-year-old Jessica.

Zac was shoving all the food he could into his mouth while Isaac, as usual, was quiet and slow. I wasn't focused on the food at all, and I didn't intend to be. At least what I ate filled my stomach for the time being.

Luckily, it wasn't my day to wash the dishes. Trinity finished eating before everyone else, and I followed close behind. I was still hungry when I smuggled her to my room behind my unsuspecting parents' backs, but I figured I could eat more at lunch.

Trinity was uncomfortable with her words. They fell from her lips slowly. "I, uh, I need to change."

I felt foolish that I hadn't given her that option earlier. She had eaten while wearing my shirt. I cringed a little, apologized, then told her she could change in the bathroom. She gathered her clothing and I directed her down the hall.

She came back looking like a princess. Although she was wearing the exact outfit she had last night, she still pulled off looking magnificent.

"I don't want to leave," Trinity's face was sad and she had puppy eyes as she walked into my room.

I leaned against the door and sighed. "I know. I don't want you to either."

"Is your dad mad at you?" she asked, a little quieter.

"No, just confused. They'll make me explain everything after you leave. Is that okay?" I don't know why I even asked. Even if Trinity said no, I would still have to tell my parents all that I knew.

Hesitation hung thick in the air. Trinity swallowed. "I guess," she said slowly, as if still questioning herself.

"If I don't, they won't let you come over anymore. I'm sorry. I have to."

"Okay. Tell them. I just don't want to lose you," She grabbed my arm as she talked.

I nodded. "I don't want to lose you either,"

It was an automatic kiss. We both knew that my parents could walk in right then and there, more likely Zac or Isaac. It was still worth it, though.

My eyes were questioning as we pulled away. She tasted almost like peppermint. Strangely, she knew what I was thinking.

"I used your toothbrush and toothpaste this morning," The corners of Trinity's lips trembled, as if she was a puppet with strings connected to her mouth. "I hope you don't mind."

We were like two puzzle pieces. She was my missing half. "Oh, no," I assured her, grinning. "Here," fumbling, I grabbed a blue pen off Isaac's desk. "Give me your hand."

She put her hand in front of me, palm up. Again she knew just what I was going to do.

I wrote my name and number, then gave her the pen, as well as my own hand.

Trinity wrote her own phone number and "Trin."

I thanked her and kissed her cheek. "You'd better go," I reminded her, leading her to the front door. My father shot me a look as I pulled her outside.

"Where's your house?" I whispered.

We walked to the curb and Trinity looked down the street.

"It's the blue one," she said, pointing.

"May I walk you?" I asked.

"Sure,"

Trinity took my hand and we walked along the sidewalk. I noticed that she dodged every crack.

"So, you'll call me, right?" I squeezed her hand a little.

"Of course," she looked and me and smiled.

"Good,"

"Oh good, my dad's not home."

I looked in the driveway. No car was in sight. The blinds of the windows were pulled down. Dying flowers were planted in a box on the porch. The house was almost as beautiful as the girl standing next to me, had it been cleaner. There was a balcony on one side and many trees and plants on the other. The only flaw was that the house needed to be washed. Mud and grime were smeared in places.

"Do you have a key?"

Trinity nodded. "Yes,"

We stood on the rug in front of her house that read, "Home Sweet Home," our hands clasped together. I watched as pieces chipped off the dry petals of the flowers and fluttered away with the wind.

It felt perfect being with Trinity. She was the girl that I only dreamt of. After so much searching and almost giving up, I finally found that girl. Now it is amazing standing in front of her and knowing that since no one is watching, I can kiss her. She seemed to have the same idea.

I kept my hands in hers even after pulling away. "Trinity?" I said her name softly.

"Yes?" it was the first time I realized what a beautiful color her eyes were. They were green, with little flecks of gold.

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes," was all she said. Then she let go of me and went into her house.

I smiled and sighed, Trinity's wonderful figure and gorgeous dark hair spinning around my mind.