Call It What You Want To

Chapter 13: Taya

"Ready?" Kyler asked as I met her in the hallway before we left for the parking lot after school on Friday.

"Think so," I said, raising my shoulders before dropping them with a dramatic sigh.

I knew Ky was asking if I was ready to go and if I had everything I needed, which I was. But was I ready to have Kyler sleepover at my house tonight? No idea.

It was ballsy as hell to invite her last night, especially on short notice. Dylynn kept telling me to do it, and she's been pushing it for the last couple weeks, especially when we'd be hanging out later into the evening. Last night, I bit the bullet and came up with some lame excuse for why it would be a good idea. I thank the good Lord above that Kyler took my bait.

"Aight, let's roll," Kyler said, her voice slurring the words together to sound more like "lez row". We turned and headed out the doors, and each day that we'd leave together we'd progressively get a little closer than before. Today, our fingertips grazed each other every time we took a step before we finally interlocked my pointer finger with Kyler's middle finger a couple yards away from her Land Rover.

Kyler let go of my finger to move a few steps ahead of me to open the passenger side door. She had done it a few times before, and every time I would insist that I was a big girl and could open my own door. I arched my eyebrows and cocked my head to the side as she did it this time. Before I could even start my protest, I got stopped.

"You have a meet tomorrow, and you can't risk over exhausting any of your muscles!" Kyler said, keeping the door open for me.

I rolled my eyes and retorted, "But I can carry this big, heavy backpack all by myself?" flashing some fake "puppy-dog" eyes. I started laughing when she left the door hanging open and almost ripped my backpack off my shoulders.

"There! No risk of strain," Kyler said with a bright and flashy grin. Rolling my eyes again, I let her take my bag into her car before taking her hand as she "helped" me into my seat.

We both got situated in her car before pulling out of our spot and moving our way through the parking lot and towards the exit. "Who moved my seat?" I asked, realizing that my feet were tucked in more than usual and sliding my hand around the side to find the seat mover button.

"Your seat?" Kyler teased, looking over at me.

"Uh, yeah my seat! My passenger seat is your seat, and your passenger seat is my seat!" I told Kyler as she tilted her head a little before chuckling that I was gonna have to take up the "my seat thing" with Milana.

We listened to the playlist Kyler had made for our drives on the way back to my house, singing quietly along with a Garth Brooks song that at first I was forced to listen to but gradually started to like as Kyler's country music quirk grew on me. I had told her I'd never be a country music fan, but after her and my dad's "gentle encouragement" (my dad said that he'd "disown me" for not appreciating quality music) I was starting to like it a little. Only a little.

The air had gotten colder, so when the wind hit my face as I got out into my driveway I couldn't help but annoyingly quote an old Tumblr post that Kyler and I resurfaced a few days ago. "It fucken wimdy," I quipped as I waited for Kyler to round the front of her car with her school bag and overnight bag.

"Wimdy indeed," she chuckled as we made our way up to the front porch, of fingers finding each other and interlocking again.

I opened the door with my free hand and was, as always, greeted by Maverick. We both said hello to the most handsome-est man in the whole wide world before I started looking for my parents. It was obvious that someone was home from the SUV in the driveway and the screaming baby from upstairs.