Where We Begin

Chapter 40 - I Guess I Feel Guilty Too

Nov 28th, 2002 - Taylor

I stormed out to the backyard. I was shaky and my knees buckled as I sat down on one of the pool chairs. I couldn't believe I made such a stupid mistake. 

One night, my mom asked where Busta was. Valid question, since he frequently made appearances at our house since last July. The first thing that popped into my head was to say he was in Chicago, so they didn't think anything was wrong and ask more questions. No one said anything else and I totally forgot about it.

"Dude. Are we still going to get any dessert?" I heard Buddy mumble.

"I hope so. What's going on?" my sister called out in my direction.

I ignored her and buried my face into my hands. I felt Busta sit down and put an arm around me. I lifted my eyes to meet his. "I'm so sorry."

Part of me was hoping he'd smile, that way he always does that makes me feel better. But he shrugged, not looking happy at all. This wasn't good.

"Busta, is this because of when you were out all night?" Buddy asked from behind us.

My sister gasped. "Oh my gosh, are you serious? I knew it. I bet it was the night my parent's weren't home..."

"Shut up!" I yelled at her. I took Busta's hand and dragged him across the patio to the pool house. Once inside, I locked the slider door behind us, even though Kristen and Buddy didn't bother to follow. They remained by the pool, talking to each other, piecing together the story, no doubt.

Busta sat down on the wicker love seat, still looking distraught.

"You're mad," I said.

He squinted and shook his head. "No, not at all. I'm scared that your parents are going to hate my mom and me. She felt really guilty about the whole thing. I guess I feel guilty too."

I felt sick. "It's my fault though. I completely forgot I said anything."

"Well, technically it's both our faults for lying and sneaking around. That's what makes this frustrating. I don't like putting my mom in this situation," Busta sighed. "But it was worth it and I really hope we don't have to stop seeing each other."

I walked over and sat down next to him. "No one is keeping me from seeing you."

 One corner of his lip slowly curled up. "Really? What if they lock you up in your room?"

"I've seen you climb down a couple times now. It doesn't look that hard."

Busta tucked my hair behind my ear, his hand lingering against my cheek. "It's kinda hard. How about you just leave your window open? Let me come and rescue my princess."

My mind flashed to Kit, that day he was in my driveway, asking where Busta fit into "Princess Taylor's world". I never told Busta, or anyone else, about what happened that day. No one at school was gossiping and Kit had avoided me ever since, so I let it go. Now, I remembered Busta may have seen him that day too.

"When were you talking to Kit?"

Busta, who had started to lean in for a kiss, drew back. "Where did that come from?"

"You never answered me earlier. You talked to Kit at the country club, was it a couple Saturday's ago?" I asked.

"Yeah, but it wasn't much of a conversation. He was just being an asshole." He looked away. "It's not the first time. He's tried to pick fights with me in the locker room and after practice before. This time though, I think he wanted me to hit him, to really get me in trouble since I was working."