Call It What You Want To

Chapter 8: Kyler

The week went by, as any normal week did. I worked on two different papers, one biology report and my own Film Lit. paper over some of David Lynch's movies; filmed and edited that stupid ad for Polaroid with my mom and sister (which actually wasn't that bad considering I got a camera out of it), and repeatedly thought about texting Taya if she'd want to hang out again.

Was it insane? Oh, a million times over. But did I regret sending the text Friday during my study hall that asked, 'What are you doing this weekend?'?

Nope. Not at all.

T: I gotta watch Mila Saturday while my parents go do stuff. Why?

K: could you check this essay i wrote?

Now, I've written probably a hundred-some essays and maybe a handful of them have been lower than a 'B'. I didn't need Taya's help, but how was I supposed to tell her that I didn't have any actual friends and hanging out with someone else was the highlight of my weekend? Well, that, and I liked the fact that I didn't have to spend an entire day being followed around by a camera for "weekend content".

Taya didn't text me back right away, and while I waited for her to text me back I thought about the rules I had created for myself.

Essays were business connections, nothing more.

Just by asking Taya to hang out, and lying about why, I knew I was fucking up. She had no reason to want to hang out with me. Taya paid me to write her essay, I did, and then she checked it before turning it in; that was all that happened last weekend. We weren't hanging out, it was quite literally a "business meeting".

So why did I feel like there was something more from last Sunday, when there wasn't any evidence that pointed to the idea that there was?

I waited until almost halfway through my next class, Film Lit. where we were watching Eraserhead, to get a text back from Taya.

T: Lol, yeah sure. 10:30 tomorrow?

I shouldn't have been smiling when I got that text, but I did. I was about to respond when Taya sent another text.

T: You're okay that I have to still watch Mila right? Like it could be a while before my parents get home.

K: yeah totally, shes cute

Taya sent back a smiley face emoji and a thumbs up to confirm tomorrow. I liked the message and slid my phone away, before turning my attention back to the movie. My teacher, Mr. Cortez, had been eyeing me from across the room until I flipped my phone over and slid my notebook back in front of me.

When I got home that afternoon, my mom and I pulled into our driveway at just about the same time. Milana and Declan went to the private, Christian school in our area that did optional early release on Fridays, the school that I never got a chance to go to because we didn't have "famous YouTuber" money when I was their age. Not that I'm complaining though, I probably wouldn't last two minutes in their school. They make all the girls wear skirts.

"KyKy!" Declan squeaked, pulling his Spiderman backpack out of the backseat. KyKy was the nickname I got from him since every time he tried to say my full name as a baby, it came out sounding more like 'Ky-uhr'.

"Hey D," I said, smiling as he ran to give me a hug, while I hugged him back as he grabbed my leg.

Milana, who had gotten too cool to hug me after school (or just wasn't as thrilled to see me anymore) had already trudged her way back to the house, likely to get ready for the football game she was going to later. Despite going to private school, my sister loved the "aesthetic and vibes" of the public school system's Friday Night Lights.