Where It Ends

| 15 | Name It

Taryn wants a few hours of sleep, a hot shower, a decent cheeseburger, a couple beers, and a place to dance, in that order. And the list is subject to change or expand as new events unfold.

I'm a little concerned about that last one, but the first four I can get behind. Lucky for her, we might not have to pick and choose. There's a country dance competition in town at a place called The Haystack. They have cheeseburgers on the menu and there are motels nearby, many of them walking distance.

Unfortunately, every place we try is booked solid.

Third time's a charm, though. After we're given the bad news, the hotel receptionist runs out to get us. There's a last-minute cancellation in a room with double queens. So, no matter what the night entails, we have all bases covered.

Ten minutes later, Taryn crashes in the second bed. She was up all night and had a taxing morning. I had better luck the night prior, and since I'm not much of a napper, I find myself tossing and turning in the bed closer to the window and exit. The sunlight is peeking through the ill-closing blinds, the pillows aren't great, and the mattress is warped in the middle.

This is no luxury suite, but what would I know? It's not like I've ever been in one before.

As the sun progresses through the afternoon, the golden-reddish hue of Taryn's hair gleams and then fades. Occasionally, my eyes drift closed, but I have a lot on my mind too, especially in light of what I heard this morning.

Not counting the car ride, this is our third time sleeping under the same roof. It has been weird but only for me, it seems. I haven't shared a living space since I was a child. Never had a roommate, let alone a female one. I've gone out of my way to be a gentleman, and I've been suffering for it by taking the less comfortable alternative. Taryn, however, has been much more fair-minded about it. It's your place, we can share and be adults about it, or take turns on the couch...

That's because she loves you, you idiot.

It's a plot twist I did not see coming. I don't even know why. The hints were there. They were just too subtle, and my life was too Quinn-centric. I didn't have the capacity or confidence to make any presumptions like that.

Now that I'm racking my brain for examples, it isn't hard to come up with some. On more than one occasion, Taryn had been caught following me and Quinn around. I assumed it was about boredom and the need for acceptance. I found it a little annoying and foreign, not having a younger sibling or normal sister of my own. My reaction would depend on the intentions Quinn and I had, but as long as we still had our clothes on, I thought it was funny and kind of sweet in a way that Quinn didn't.

Quinn and Taryn were close by my warped standards, but Quinn was having none of it, not usually wanting to include her when she and I were together. That didn't necessarily mean Taryn was deterred, however. She just got better at flying under the radar, I guess. And she undoubtedly saw a lot of stuff she shouldn't have, some of which she's admitted to just recently.

Taryn was also with her father a lot. She was "daddy's little girl," but I was usually with him, too. Was that all about him, or did that have something to do with me?

She'd laugh at my jokes. If she got a treat, she'd share it or sneak me one. She'd do these little favors for me, something Quinn never troubled herself with. Taryn, I only had to ask once and she was always quick about it. She was eager to learn and to fix any mistakes.

Once Taryn and I were reunited, there were new hints, strong ones, come to think of it. She had tears in her eyes when our first encounter fell short. She's not brazen or handsy, and I haven't been either, but there have been those lingering glances and grazes. Then there's the four-paragraph text message—things I needed to hear, when I needed to hear them. She gets so touchy about any feelings I might still have for Quinn, and touchy when I get touchy in response. She also cut her hand so I wouldn't have to shoot someone...