Her pocket vibrated jovially as Taylor Foster pushed open the doors of the bank she worked at and stepped into the crisp Seattle air. She pulled out her cell phone and glanced at the caller ID to see her best friend’s picture flashing on the screen. Emma’s always perfect blonde curls and encouraging smile.
Taylor flipped it open.
“Hello?”
“Just another twenty four hours,” Emma reassured her. Taylor smiled and pulled her purse up higher over her shoulder with her free hand. Emma knew her so well. That happens when you’ve been friends since the 4th grade.
“Oh believe me, I know. I just have to do a paper for my psych class and I’m done for the weekend.”
“Ugh. Psych.”
“It’s the only thing standing between me and Blaine at this point.”
“Us and Blaine, you mean,” Emma reminded her, “You’re not going alone to his concert tomorrow.”
Taylor rolled her eyes.
“Like I would go without you.”
Emma scoffed, “You might. More for you.”
“Right. Because his super model girlfriend and groupies aren’t enough, he has to choose plain fans out of a crowd.”
Both girls laughed. Taylor stepped up to her car in the parking lot and opened the door.
“Do you know what you’re wearing?”
“I just know it’s supposed to be dry tomorrow. So probably something that isn’t dry clean only.” Taylor climbed into the driver’s seat and locked the door as another call beeped in. She quickly checked her phone. “Emma, I gotta go. I have another call coming in.”
“Is it Eli?”
Taylor could hear the judgment in her friend’s voice, but knew she couldn’t lie to her.
“Yeah. I gotta take it.”
“Make him leave a voicemail for once. There are reasons you broke up with him, y’know.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll call you later.”
“Bye.” Taylor, feeling guilty, switched calls, “Hello?”
“Hey babe.” She rolled her eyes. He only ever called her ‘babe’ if he needed something.
“How many times have I told you I’m not a sheep-herding pig?”
Eli laughed, “Of course not. Whatcha doin’?”
“What do you want?”
“Busy?”
“Very. Much too busy for a booty call.”
“Booty call?” Eli almost sounded hurt over the phone.
Almost.
Taylor had broken up with Eli about six months ago after two years of being together. He proposed, she’d said yes. She had come over the next day - with the key he had given her - to surprise him and make dinner, only to find him in bed with his best friend’s girlfriend, Nikki. He’d feigned guilt and asked for forgiveness. Of course, she had agreed to work it out, only to continually find random girl’s numbers laying around the house, a lipstick tube that didn’t belong to her, and an A-cup that definitely wasn’t hers. Getting tired of always wondering, she left him for good. Since then, Eli was always calling and, like a habitual addict, Taylor always answered.
“What? Isn’t Nikki available?”
“Why you gotta be like that?”
“Like what? Listen, Eli, I have to get home so I can do my homework. Unless you need something, I’m gonna go.”
“Come on, now, Tay…”
“Seriously. And don’t call again. Next time I won’t pick up the phone.”
“You always say that.” She could hear his grin over the line. It made her angrier.
“This time I mean it,” she snapped her phone shut and turned the key in the ignition of her little blue Dodge Neon, bringing the engine to life. She fiddled with the radio stations as she buckled her seat belt, fresh guilt and self pity tugging at her mind. Distracted, she made her way to her apartment near the U-district. She climbed the stairs to the third floor, down the hall to 303, and finally through the heavy door that she closed lightly behind her to not disturb her neighbors - not that it would matter. It sounded like 304 was already involved in their nightly shouting match.
It was moments like these that she felt glad to live alone. Though being alone did make it a little harder to not call Eli back…
Taylor tossed her keys onto the wooden table by the door, under the mirror, and put her purse next to them. She ignored her reflection, not wanting to analyze too long at her untidy brunette pony tail, light freckles across her nose, or chapped lips. She walked immediately to the computer desk and threw herself into the chair. With a heavy sigh she was glad tomorrow she only had to think about a rock star.