Chapter Three
August jumped off the bus, looking across the street at her backyard. She sighed. She did not want to go home; she was afraid of what might happen if she did. She scanned the backyard, looking for a Harley Davidson. Upon finding none, she sighed again - in relief. Her father wasn't home yet. She hopped the fence, then cast a quick glance at the William's receipt, and the phone number on the back. She smiled bitterly at the thought of Taylor, who probably thought she was some rich spoiled thing that lived on the west side.
"Sorry, Tay...no such luck."
With a definite thud, August bounded through the front door. There was no one home, a good thing on her part. She flounced around a bit, then collapsed on the couch.
"I could call him back...why didn't I act like a normal human being? You're an asshole, August," she said out loud to herself. With a glance at the phone, she knew it was either now or never again [tonight, anyway] to call him. She chose the latter of those two, and set about finishing her homework before her father could come home and beat the shit out of her for not doing it.
Taylor stared out the window, thinking about none other than August. Zac crept up behind him, wielding a large wooden spoon. He approached Taylor, getting closer and closer, THREE INCHES AWAY FROM HIS HEAD, when...Ike grabbed the spoon and whacked Zac upside the head with it.
"Leave Tay alone...you know it's pointless to pull the wooden spoon gag when he's thinking about a girl," he scolded. Zac nodded in agreement, and walked away. Ike, however, sat down beside Taylor and waved his hand in front of his face, snapping his fingers twice. Taylor snapped out of his little trance and stared at him.
"What?"
Ike stared at him intensely for a minute or so, then said,
"Man, she was 13, maybe 14. She's not worth it, buddy."
Taylor looked out the window again.
"I can't help it," he started. "She's not like any other girl I've met...not like any other girl I've met who could've screamed her head off at the mere sight of us, anyway." He paused. "Besides, age is just a number..."
Ike nodded, having to agree with that.
"But you don't know anything about her..." he thought for a second. "She could be a rich spoiled brat from the west side of Shade's Mill. She could be a computer hacker that steals government and military files, for all you know."
Taylor looked at him like he was some kind of lunatic.
"Next thing you're gonna tell me is that she could be that really weird guy on South Park who has a thing for animals with multiple asses, aren't you?"
(Incidentally, the last South Park I saw was the "mate Fluffy the pig with that elephant" episode, and they microwaved Kenny.) Ike chuckled.
"She could very well be," he answered, laughing uncontrollably. Taylor shook his head and rolled his eyes. Ike forced himself to stop laughing, and said seriously,
"Tay, man, I'll say it again, she was too young for you. I know she looked 16, but she can't be any older than 14. It's not worth it, even if she does get that part in the Cried video like you asked her to try for."
Taylor glared at his brother.
"Did I ever put down any of the girls you had mad crushes on?"
Ike stopped. He had a point; he hadn't said ANYTHING when he'd gotten a huge crush on a nineteen-year-old from the Netherlands. He shook his head.
"No, you didn't...I'll leave you alone."
Scratched in a desk at Chamberlain Middle School:
Roses are red, violets are blue, but Carrie White eats shit.
-Carrie (Stephen King, 1979)
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Chapter Two
Chapter Four