Deja-Vous

Finally I figured out

But it took a long, long time

But now there's a turnabout

Maybe 'cause I'm trying

There's been times, I'm so confused

All my roads, they lead to you

I just can't turn and walk away

It's hard to say what it is I see in you

Wonder if I'll always be with you

But words can't say and, I can't do

Enough to prove

It's all for you

I'd thought I'd seen it all

'Cause it's been a long, long time

But then we'll trip and fall

Wondering if I'm blind

Finally I figured out

But it took a long, long time

But now there's a turnabout

Maybe 'cause I'm trying

It's hard to say what it is I see in you

Wonder if I'll always be with you

But words can't say and, I can't do

Enough to prove

It's all for you

It's hard to say

It's hard to say

It's all for you*

The words made tears glisten in my eyes as I sat alone in bed. The song, my favorite one for years on end, wasn't much comfort at the moment.

I was listening to this when I first met Zac six years ago. I could barely keep my fingers from trembling as I reached for the phone for what seemed like the hundred-millionth time.

No, I scolded myself again, retracting my fingers like a steel trap. I hugged my knees tightly to my chest in frustration as last night came crashing back into memory:

"I can't believe you'd do this to me." I whispered. Shutting my eyes tightly, I prayed when I opened them the scene in front of me would be different, that this whole scene I'd somehow illusioned due to severe insomnia. No such luck, but at least by this time Zac and Mia had their shirts back on again. I was only so lucky not to have come here later, for fear of what other clothes they wouldn't be wearing.

"You said you loved me." My voice trembled violently, but I refused to allow any more tears to be shed. Not tonight, and particularly not over this.

"I do love you." He begged, rising off the couch.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" I screamed, holding my hands over my eyes. After remembering where I was, how we were the only ones in the house awake, taking a deep breath, I turned to Mia and spoke in a lower tone:

"And I thought you were my friend." Instead, the words came out a broken whisper. I could only hope she could see the pain in my eyes as I stared her down. She didn't have an answer for me, glancing down at her hands in shame. I suddenly felt like an over-bearing mother.

"Maggie.." Taylor came up behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" I whirled around, turning my anger on him because.. because he was there.

"You're just tired now, honey.." Zac tried again, his voice calm and soothing. My eyes widening, I lost it:

"Do not tell me how I am, who I am.. and what I am any more!!" Reaching up to my collarbone, with a hard yank of my hand and a whirl of my wrist, the necklace he'd given me was flung in face. Both Mia and Taylor, speechless, turned their eyes toward Zac. But I wasn't done.

"We're finished."

Since then, the urge to call him, see him, feel his gentle touch grazing my skin, just hear his comforting voice had been nipping at the edges of my conscious, even after he'd given up trying to get in contact with me this morning..

God, forget mental images, the words even hurt to think: Zac and Mia.

I also hadn't been able to keep a decent-sized meal in my stomach either. Every time I'd tried, it kept coming back up. I hadn't the energy to even go to work, per chance I would see Mia; calling in sick had seemed the logical thing to do.

"You're so pathetic," I moaned, rolling over onto my back and wishing my ceiling would come crashing down on me, ending my moodiness. Tucking my hands behind my head for support, I closed my eyes and sighed as my CD player skipped to replay the song I'd been listening to non-stop for the last eight hours. I was searching for its usual motivational inspiration and lightening of my spirits, without much avail.

Not one of your shining moments in decision-making, Maggie. I reminded myself of my rash decision. Zac would've done anything for you..

Which is exactly why it wasn't fair for you to stay with him, considering your earlier doubts.

And what the heck happened? Why did he do that to me? Over and over the image of him and Mia flashed through my mind. And he hadn't exactly put up much of a defensive fight until I'd spoken up. It was the weirdest case of deja-vous, although this time Mia's my friend, Zac is- correction, was- my boyfriend, and the whole thing felt about ten thousand times more painful.

I had no idea Zac even knew much about Mia, other than a casual comment before my second date with him about her beauty and him spending time chatting with her in the health club off and on since she had broken up with Taylor.

Her beauty.. sensuality?

I glanced in the mirror at my 'new' appearance, looking quite disheveled at the moment. I barely recognized the person staring back at me with dark eyes over even darker circles.

Is that it? He lost interest because I changed how I look? Feeling incredibly foolish, I reached over for a tissue and furiously scrubbed at the makeup still brandishing my face.

But Zac worshipped you.. another voice reminded me as I wiped my eyes.

"Which is why this whole damn thing doesn't make any sense!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, before clamping my hand over my mouth. The last thing I needed were all the neighbors hearing a broadcast of my dire situation, let alone even my parents. They'd had a big enough helping of my problems with the Justin issue to last them until next year's Mardi Gras.

"You're loosing it, Maggie." I muttered, squeezing the tissue between my fingertips and closing my eyes briefly. Opening them, I caught sight of something that sparked the first feeling of interest over something in me.

"What the-" I rolled off my bed and walked over to my half-opened closet. Not noticing earlier the large roll of white paper propped up against my mirror, I caught a note attached to its seam. Picking it up, I read:

Maggie-If you've found this, you really need to get a life.- Luv Sarah.

I unrolled the paper and laughed outloud at its sight. It was an old promotional poster of Hanson, mustaches drawn in permanent marker across the upper lips of Isaac and Taylor.

I love you Sarah. I smiled brightly at the memory years ago, of the night she and I had stayed up late eating cheese-flavored popcorn and doing more than a small amount of male-bashing. The whole night was completely devoted to us being immature.

The night you deleted all Taylor's messages. I remembered as well.

Taylor.. I'm going to kill whoever said memories are precious, I realized as more images flashed in my mind:

"Are you sure you're ok?" He shifted his weight nervously in front of me. I sat motionless in my seat on the hood of my car, absently swinging my legs back and forth and staring at absolutely nothing.

"I'm ok," I said quickly, my voice so low it was almost inaudible. "Just please, leave me alone.. I need to get the hell out of here."

A guilty feeling hit my stomach as I stared blankly at the poster. All three boys seemed to stare deeply back at me; it was unnerving.

You could stand to act your own age now, they seemed to be telling me.

"I can't take this.." I released the poster to the floor, where it instantly snapped into a curled-up position. After rummaging around a few minutes for a pair of shoes, I grabbed my car keys and left.

Where the hell am I going? I wondered, slowly descending down the stairs and absently running my fingers over the smooth surface of the railing. Raising my fingertips to the the tousled strands of hair that hung over my forehead, I suddenly had a brilliant idea.

"My, my," a wonderfully comforting voice washed over me as she recognized me. "I didn't know you still existed. Come over here and give me a hug, dear."

"Nana," I walked into her room and wrapped my arms around my grandmother. I closed my eyes and took in the reassuring smell of her perfumed fabric softener. Although it nearly burned out the insides of my nose, I dearly missed that smell. Funny how little things like that can make a world of difference, bringing about a world of comfort.

"Now, what brings you here?" She put her hands on my shoulders and lightly pushed me away to look at my face.

"Oh, Nana I have the biggest mess I've made for myself right now," I collapsed into the chair next to her.

"Sounds serious," she replied with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Better set down the embroidery for this one." She pushed it aside and rested her hands on top of the wood table between us. I watched her entwine her fingers before admitting:

"I.. don't know where to start on all this." I looked helplessly at her.

"Well, it certainly is a problem then," she clicked her tongue softly, lines creasing the corners of her eyes as she smiled.

"Especially if it means the first visit in weeks to an old woman cast out of the real world in a nursing home."

"Oh, Nana.." I couldn't help but smile.

"I'm really sorry I haven't been around." I couldn't begin to tell her the events that had happened within the last few months, let alone mere weeks. I was relieved the nursing home didn't give its residents cable television, so she hadn't caught the recent news about me.

Talk about shock therapy.

"Sure, sure." She held up her hands, her smile widening.

"I know how it is. Always running around, things to do, places to go, people to hang around with.. It's quite easy to forget about one's elders." She paused, clearing her throat.

"Ahem, particularly when you're the only one they have."

"Nana," I laughed at her chiding and retaliated with an old jab of my own. "Isn't it time you took your medication?"

"No, it's only-" I caught her checking her watch before sending me a frown creased with wrinkles.

"You sneaky, little-" I burst into giggles, feeling a wave of relaxation spreading through my body.

Laughter is a beautiful stress reliever, I realized.

"This is the real reason I come see you, Nana. You always put me in a better mood."

"Now, what's not to be in a good mood about?" She pointed outside her window. "It's a beautiful summer day. Why aren't you out there enjoying your favorite season?"

"I don't know.." I mumbled.

"Maggie," she leaned forward and placed her hand warmly on my forearm. "What did you get yourself into now?"

"Way-ull.." I started sheepishly.

"It involves a certain boy.. or rather, two of them." My cheeks burned slightly.

"You're in love with two boys?" She looked at me in surprise. "I didn't know you'd started dating yet."

"Well, technically I hadn't.. but yeah, I guess so." I replied, ignoring her 'love' question by shifting my eyes around the room.

No reason to give her a complete update, especially when I don't have a clue myself how I feel anymore.

"And you're not sure who you want to be with?" She asked.

"Well.. it gets worse. They're brothers."

"Ah-hah."

"And.. well, do you remember Zac and Taylor?" I stopped my explanation and looked up at her.

"Hmm.. " she thought for a moment. "Names sound familiar.."

"I remember," She lightly slapped her palm down on the table. "Didn't one of them call the paramedics for me when I had my heart attack?"

"Yes!" I had forgotten that. "Wow, I can't believe you remember."

"You'd be surprised at how much an old woman can remember," she winked at me knowingly. "If my memory also serves me correctly, you used to have a little thing for.. Zac?"

"Taylor, actually," I corrected her. "The one who called the paramedics for you."

"Was that the boy with the long hair?" I laughed outloud at the expression on her face, scrunched up in disgust.

"Well, they both had long hair," I corrected her. "But you never met Zac.."

"Taylor must've been the one who came here and asked me for advice about you then," she leaned back in her chair, smiling.

"What?" I stared at her incredulously. "When did he do that?"

"He didn't tell me everything, just that you were in a certain situation and he wanted to help you. Let's see.." She glanced out the window, replaying the conversation in her mind.

"We were sitting right at this table. He had very sincere, deep blue eyes."

".. Yeah, that'd be Taylor." I said slowly, frowning while trying to remember.

What the.. oh, the therapy phone call. I rolled my eyes.

"Did you tell him to call a battered women's hotline for me?" I said in a demanding tone. It actually came out sounding half-joking but also half-serious.

"Heavens, no." She chuckled.

"Is that what he did?" I nodded silently, remembering how embarrassing that situation had been for me.

"Oh my. Even today boys have no idea of what's right to do, do they?"

"Well, it was five years ago, but basically nope. Nana, what exactly did you tell him?" I asked warily.

"All I said was that if he felt the situation was out of his hands, which I sensed it was, then find someone else who could help. Nothing more," she smiled apologetically. "I was thinking maybe you'd gotten your period for the first time or something less.. dramatic."

"Well, he was there for that too," I grinned at the memory.

What a day.. when I told him I'd been adopted. The day Sarah and I made the high school cheerleading squad.. my thoughts drifted absently.

Things were so easy then, even when they seemed so hard to deal with.

"Anyway," she continued, snapping my attention back to our conversation. "You need to be true to your feelings. I could tell from the moment he looked into my eyes, Taylor cared about you. Even if you two were just fourteen."

"Going on fifteen," I joked, lightening the conversation for me by recalling how I'd always wanted to be older than I really was. Now I longed to go back to days when none of stuff like this mattered. Everyone was your friend, whether you had feelings for each other or not. A time when I didn't have as many headaches.. A time where I didn't feel old enough to trade sets of teeth with my grandmother between meals.

"How do you feel about him now?"

"Taylor or Zac? If you say Zac, I'll be here all afternoon, with that explanation."

"Well, then.." Nana smiled jokingly.

"Forget Zac for a moment. How do you feel about Taylor?" She re-emphasized.

"It's the weirdest thing.. I can't explain it." The mention of his name, not to mention thinking about him, sparked an excitement in my stomach. It was a dangerous feeling; I couldn't help but distrust it.

"I.. just get extremely flustered and distracted when I'm around him. But, at the same time, I'm afraid he might hate me." I bit my lower lip and chewed on it for a second.

"Is that all?" She asked. I looked at her in surprise.

"What do you mean 'is that all' ?" I frowned at her.

Not exactly what I was hoping to hear: 'You're making a big deal out of nothing, Maggie.' Not that it hasn't happened before..

"Look at me." She commanded, taking my hands in hers.

"Umm.. okaaay." I looked deep into her eyes.

"Now say his name."

Huh? I didn't know what she was getting at here.

"What?"

"Just say his name." She continued to look pointedly at me, holding my gaze.

"Ok, now I think it's about time for that medication of yours, Nana."

"Margaret Suzana.. Say his name." She smiled.

".. Taylor."

It came out a soft whisper, instantly pulling up the corners of my mouth in a smile. I felt my forehead relax and then a small dizzy sensation. Strangely, I released one of her hands and placed my index finger softly across my lips, feeling my cheeks turn warm in a blush at my reaction.

It's just a name, I scolded myself. But..

"You love him." She sat back and squeezed the hand of mine she still held. A knowing smile spread widely across her face.

"But it's just his name-" I started to protest. She held up her free hand, motioning me to shut my trap.

"It's all in a name."

"Nah," I looked down at the table. "I can't- I don't know him anymore. I-"

"You can't think straight when you're around him, right?"

"Yeah.." I admitted hesitantly, remembering our uncomfortable car ride together.

"You find yourself wanting only to look in his direction when around each other, no matter how close or far away you are from each other, whether you're talking to him or not, right?" I nodded as she hit the head of the nail directly with the hammer.

"You need to tell him."

"I can't," I whispered immediately, shaking my head furiously. "I.. can't do it."

"Have you really tried? If you love him, then tell him." She repeated firmly. Looking into her soft gray eyes, full of wisdom and experience, I knew she was right. Butterflies rising up in anticipation in my stomach, I briefly closed my eyes. Relaxing my shoulders and sighing softly, I replied,

"Okay."

(*Lyrical credits go to Sister Hazel.)