Silent Love [Watty Awards 2013 Finalist]

Chapter 19

I stared down at him not quite sure what was happening, but as soon as he opened his eyes, he smiled.

 “Tay, will you please be my girlfriend?” He asked yet again.

 “Yes,” I replied in barely a whisper.

 “Good, because I couldn’t keep kissing you without knowing if you liked it or not.” He replied with a wink.

 I laughed at him, and rolled off, standing up. I don’t know what was going on, but I was feeling so good about this aura around me. I looked at Shane, still laying there on the ground staring up at me. I honestly didn’t know what he saw in me.

 …

 The next two months were the greatest days of my short life. I’d been on two dates with Shane, one of them being Starbucks because I couldn’t get enough of the stuff. The other date was really cute at this little Italian place. I absolutely adored Shane and his little quirky ways.

 He was trying to get me to speak and I was, slowly. I only ever spoke to him when we were alone, at home or with Stephanie. It was great to be talking again, even if it was just a little. I finally felt lighter.

 I was currently reviewing my newest dance for Nationals. I had made it this year and was excited. It was, however, my last dance recital ever. I would keep dancing but I knew it would be for leisure purposes only. My mind was on soccer and currently I was putting it on hold for dance.

 “With Act number 48, performing Diary of Anne Frank, here is Miss Taylor Lewis.” The announcer said.

 I pushed myself away from Shane’s hold; breaking off the protective hug. He seemed to love to watch me dance, and I was glad for the support. If anyone else had begged to come watch me dance, or even came backstage, I would have yelled ‘no.’

 Taking a deep breath, I sashayed out on the stage into my entrance pose.

 There something about the stage that I loved and was going to miss. Dancing wasn’t really my thing, it was Tyler’s, but I loved the thrill of performing and performing well. Not to mention the stories we tell in each of our dances.

 I was the Anne Frank, living during World War II and the Holocaust. I was telling her story through the dance that Coach Libby had so well put together. It was an acrobatic piece with a prop of a diary, and lots of aerials.

 As the music finished the audience applauded. I curtseyed, and took my exit off the stage, heading straight for the dressing room.

 “Great job you,” my mother said, as I saw her outside the door. “It was beautiful.”

 I smiled at her, grateful for her reassurance that I did not completely suck. 

“I couldn’t ask for more,” Coach Libby said. “I saw Anne Frank out there, brilliantly done!”

 The only comment I was desperate to hear was in fact Shane’s comment. So you could imagine my surprise when I entered my dressing room and the very person who looked like me staring back.

 “Tyler?” I barely croaked out. “What are you doing here?”

 Immediately my eyes were tearing up. I thought Tyler was dead, I thought Dad had killed him. I could not understand what was happening as my brother  who I adored more than life itself was standing right in front of me like it was a normal day. But it wasn’t; it was anything but normal.

 “I’ve missed you so much Lori. I-”

 “Do not call me that. You don’t get to call me that!” I screamed at him. How dare he! How dare he walk back into my life after the hell I’d been through. Whether or not what happened was his fault, he never came back after. It took him two fucking years to walk into this room. Two fucking years to walk back into my life, and that is two years too fucking long.