Where We Begin

Chapter 18 - Call Me Whatever You Want

July 6th, 2002 - Taylor

After all my talk of taking a break from guys and focusing on myself, I couldn't believe I just jumped into a relationship with Busta. Not only that, but we hadn't even know each other a week. This was an unusually impulsive move for me, but after our first official date, I think I made the right call.

We had so much fun together. We sat down to dinner, where I ordered a modest chicken Caesar salad, trying to seem dainty and sensible. Busta, on the other hand, ordered a dozen buffalo wings and a side of cheese fries, with no shame at all. When our food came out, he caught me staring at his meal and was nice enough to offer to share. I abandoned my salad, and slid in next to him on the other side of the booth. 

Sitting there, sauce on our faces, laughing and throwing bits of fries at each other, I couldn't help but think how different this felt from being with Kit. A normal date with him would include a town car taking us to the fanciest restaurants, going sailing on his parents boat or something else forced and extravagant, that I kind of assumed was him trying to get me into bed. 

Then at the end of the night, cue the big fights were Kit would say I don't care about him, and I reminded him we were 15 years old and I didn't want to lose my virginity in the back of a hired car or with parents just down the hall.

Even though this relationship was brand new, I could tell Busta didn't want anything from me. He looked happy to be here with me. 

I never had a boyfriend that I could just be myself with, without having to try so hard. I didn't care that our giggles and antics were annoying the elderly couple at the next table. I didn't care that I wasn't acting like a "lady." I didn't care that we had to order another dozen wings, because they were so delicious. It was the most fun I'd ever had on a date.

When we were done eating, we got up to play some pool. I was never very good at it, but Busta offered to teach me. He actually asked if it was OK to show me how to shoot. 

"Of course it is," I smiled.

"Just checking," he said as he positioned himself behind me. "I'm going to lean in and guide your arms. Still OK?"

I turned my face towards his, so we were nose to nose. "I'm your girlfriend. You don't have to ask about stuff like that," I giggled. 

Busta's cheeks turned red and his eyes twinkled. "Can you say that first part one more time?"

"I'm. Your. Girlfriend," I said quietly, punctuating each word with a kiss on the cheek, except the last one, which I planted right on his mouth.

"Oh my God, you have to be kidding me," a familiar male voice said off to the side. 

I looked over to see, who else, Kit standing at the next pool table. Susie had her arms wrapped around his waist, a shit-eating grin on her face and an Abercrombie t-shirt that was at least 2 sizes too small stretched over her midriff.

"Damn it," I muttered.

Susie looked at Kit. "This is what we get for coming to a place like Murphy's, hun. A dive like this attracts these kinds of people." 

"Bad call on my part, babe," Kit nodded. "Taylor, are you seriously on a date with this charity case? I guess it's the decent thing to do, after his heroics the other night. I hope he knows not to expect any big pay off out of you right away, though."

Before I could respond, Busta stepped around me, taking a protective stance between me and Kit. "First of all, I know it blows your mind that some people actually work and contribute to society, but go ahead and call me whatever you want. See if I care. At least I know I'm not an asshole like you. And that stunt your girl pulled could have paralyzed Taylor, do you understand that? You need to apologize and have the decency to take it seriously."

"Whoa, whoa, that's a lot of big words for a gardener," Kit laughed, putting his hands up, feigning submission. 

I could feel Busta's anger radiating off of him and I took his arm in an effort to calm him down. "Kit, you are obviously intimidated because Busta is ten times the guy you are. I'd love to see if you would jump into a pool to rescue your skank girlfriend, but I guarantee you wouldn't."

Susie and Kit burst out laughing. "Busta?!" Susie exclaimed between snorts. "Is this kid for real? That sounds like some kind of cartoon character name."

Now I was starting to lose my cool. "After all we just said, the only bit of information you are taking away is my boyfriend's nickname? You are a bigger twat than I thought." 

They both laughed harder. "Your BOYFRIEND?" Kit howled. "Oh my god, this so entertaining. What is your next date going to be? A ride through town on a lawn mower? What a pathetic..." 

All of a sudden, Busta took a step forward and punched Kit right in face. 

For a moment we all froze, shocked. A bartender started making a bee-line toward us, but Busta just shouted an apology and rushed toward the door without looking back.

Susie held Kit's face, inspecting the black eye that was already forming. She scowled at me. "Great choice for a boyfriend, bitch." 

"Yeah. You too," I said, purposefully bumping my shoulder into hers as I walked past them and out of the restaurant to find Busta. 

He was standing by my car in the parking lot, his face buried in his hands. He looked up briefly, and even though it was already very dark out, I noticed his eyes were wet and bloodshot.

"Shit," Busta sniffled, wiping his face with his hand. "I really didn't want you to see this."

I approached him and wrapped my arms around his neck to hug him. "What's wrong? Don't let them get to you, they are jerks."

"It's not that. I've never hit anyone before. I lost control and I didn't even realize what I was doing until I did it. I don't want to hit people, I don't want to be like my dad," he moaned, his head buried into my neck.

I took his face into my hands, looking him right in the eye. "The fact that you care and you feel this bad about hitting Kit, shows you are different. Because he kind of deserved it."

"No one deserves to get hit," Busta said solemnly. 

"OK. Next time, we can handle it in another way. Don't get down on yourself about tonight. You made a mistake, you aren't a bad guy. You aren't your dad," I told him. "You were standing up for me, because you are a good person."

Busta pushed a lock of hair out of my eyes and leaned in for a gentle kiss. 

"Thank you," he whispered when we pulled apart. He handed me my keys that were still in his pocket and we climbed into the car. Before I turned the ignition, I looked over at him, his expression still one of worry. 

"This doesn't change anything, Busta. If anything, I like you even more now. That's one more thing you did for me that no one else would have." 

His brow seemed to relax a bit and the tension in his jaw faded. "That wasn't like me. But the me I'm used to knowing would never have had a girlfriend like you. Someone who's really worth fighting for, but more importantly, worth being better for."