Virgin Terri

Chapter 4: Houses

Thursday evening; Taylor and I decided to go to Tasha's house, as we usually did on Thursdays, to eat dinner with her family. Tasha's dad was a really good cook. In fact, once upon a time, he'd had his own cooking show in LA. After getting married and having two of his three kids, however, he ultimately decided to end the show, move away from the big city, and settle down in middle-of-nowhere-suburbia to raise his family.  

Fortunately, his cooking skills hadn't diminished in the years that followed his retirement. 

"Wow, Mr. Nathan," Taylor gushed as she bit into her chicken leg, "this is the best chicken I've ever had in my life. I could marry this chicken." Nathan, Tasha's dad, chuckled from his seat at the dinner table and smiled into the mouth of his wine glass.

"Taylor, didn't you say that the last time my husband made chicken?" Tasha's mom, Sandra laughed. 

"I did," Taylor admitted shamelessly, "and I'll continue to say it every time I try some of his chicken. And his pasta. And his Étouffée. And anything else that he makes." 

"Why, thank you, Taylor," Nathan said, "it's nice to know my daughter's friends think so highly of my cooking. My kids, on the other hand..." Nathan raised a brow at his three children, who all poked and prodded at the food before them. "You'd think I was trying to feed them arsenic," Nathan sighed jokingly. 

"Because you always do the most, Dad," Tasha muttered. "Sometimes, good ol' spaghetti and meatballs is good enough."

"Or pizza," Tasha's older brother, Sanderson, added as he gnawed on his fork. 

"Or mashed tomatoes!" shouted the exuberant baby of the family, Teddy. Tasha's mom tilted her head at her youngest's exclamation. 

"You mean mashed potatoes," she corrected gently as she patted his shoulder. Teddy pouted, his cheeks ballooning to twice their size. 

"No," Teddy maintained, "mashed tomatoes!" I laughed along with the others at the sight, completely at ease at the dinner table. Tasha's family was so colorful and vibrant. Her family was so unlike mine or Taylor's. See, Taylor's mother was barely home, always out living some big adventure or other. With me, well... my parents were just... quiet. Calm. Like me. Certainly wasn't an unpleasant way to live, but sometimes I kind of wished my family was just a little more lively. 

But only sometimes. 

Dinner ended shortly after the debate of entrees and, soon, Tasha, Taylor and I galloped up the stairs to go hang out in Tasha's room. I took the bed, Tasha took the rolling chair, and Taylor flopped down on the woolly rug spread out across the cream colored carpet. 

"I hate how your rug is pink," Taylor pointed out, "but it's ridiculously comfy, so I'll keep that to myself."

"Except you just miserably failed," Tasha stated with a quirk of her lips. 

"True. Might as well get my feelings out there. Hate your rug, dude."

"Buy me a new one, dude."

"Well, when I become a famous dancer, I'll certainly do just that, Tash." Taylor and Tasha erupted in a fit of elated giggles. I watched with a warm smile. "Anyway..." Taylor began, sprawling out to her full length. As she stretched, her Nirvana crop top started sneaking up the curve of her abdomen, showing off the belly button piercing she'd gotten last summer. "I think we should talk about Terri's visit to the Dog House tomorrow." I didn't feel the same way.

"I think we should stick to our usual routine," I protested. "Netflix marathon before my mom calls asking where I am. Always good."

"Always is such a boring term," Taylor responded and rolled onto her stomach. "You need to have a game plan before just appearing at Luke's place. I know you may not be aware, but you're kind of awkward in a crippling way." I frowned. I'd noticed. "Let us give you some tips about how to not look like a total goober. And, also, I think you should watch out for certain things as well."