Wrong Number

"Zoe," Tay scolded at his four year-old sister. Not that she would have understood his frustration, but he didn't know my number to call back. Sighing, he unraveled the unplugged phone cord from her fingers. Picking up Zoe, he carried her in his arms down the hall in search of his mother.

"Mom?" he tried his parents' bedroom, where he found her reading a book.

"Come here, kiddo," Diana put down the book and called to Zoe. Tay carefully set his sister down and watched her toddle over to Diana's open arms.

"Tay? Did you answer the phone?" Diana asked, bouncing Zoe into her lap.

"Yeah." he stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. "Why?"

"I heard it ring. Poor Zac's been waiting all week for Maggie to call him. I was wondering if something happened between the two of them.."

"Not that I know of. I don't exactly care either." With that, Taylor turned and walked out of the room, leaving his mother concerned. Where was the warm, caring boy she had raised? It was obvious at times that stardom had taken its effects on him, but it seemed like something was bothering him lately. Or, as his brothers said, something new was bothering him. She could only guess it was another girl, another situation she knew she'd have to keep her distance and hope he'd make the right decisions.

"Tay?" Zac called from his bedroom into the hallway. He could've sworn he saw his older brother just sulk past the door.

"Yeah?" He reappeared in the doorway.

"Did the phone ring?" Zac crossed his fingers for luck that it'd been me, half in hopes that he just wasn't hearing spontaneously ringing phones.

"Yeah, but it was the wrong number." Taylor turned to continue walking down the hallway, not catching the face his younger brother made at his moodiness. Truth was, he wasn't sure what had caused his bad mood, but he had a pretty darn good idea that his brother had taken it out to dinner Saturday night. Deciding he needed to get out, Tay noticed Zac's car keys on his desk out of the corner of his eye.

"Zac, can I borrow your Jeep?" he asked, leaning against the door frame and stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

"Sure," Zac replied warily. "What for?"

"I need to get out," Tay replied. Before Zac could answer, he quickly grabbed the keys, as well as a few pieces of paper off Zac's desk by accident. Not thinking, he shoved them into his pocket and muttered,

"Thanks. Later."

Driving around Tulsa turned out to be not as eventful as Taylor had wanted it to be, so he decided to park his brother's Jeep at the park downtown. The weather seemed to mimic his attitude: gray. Overcast clouds threatened to pour snow down on the city, but instead they just hung heavily in the sky. A small, chilly wind blew past Tay, making him pull his coat closer to his body. After walking around and noticing he wasn't really paying attention to where he was going, he found himself at a long, thin strip of concrete that lay at his feet and decided to follow the sidewalk.

A few steps took Taylor past the children's playground. Normally crowded with little ankle-bitters, today it was completely deserted, so it suited him perfectly. He walked over and sat down on one of the swings, digging his feet into the hardened sand underneath him and sighing.

"Damn," he said outloud, absently rocking himself back and forth slightly.

When did things get so messed up? He'd tried exceptionally hard to ignore me last week at his house, but unfortunately I'd been in Tay's head all week (There's a good mental image for you). He didn't understand why he couldn't just forget what had happened between us.

She was one of the first people to like me for just.. well, me.

Taylor had attempted several relationships over the past years, but they all seemed the same. Every girl he'd been attracted to was completely obsessed with trying to impress him, whether it was with humor, charm, looks, presents, whatever. They were only interested in Taylor Hanson, the famous pop star. Each had ended the same way, leaving him more bitter for the next time around. Seeing me reminded him of what he'd left behind, what he should've taken care of before he'd left.. what he still wanted.

He stopped pushing himself with his feet and leaned against the rusted chain links supporting his swing. Closing his eyes, he remembered seeing me in the laundry room.

Her face, her smile, her green eyes - damn, why can't I stop thinking about her? He remembered every little detail of my appearance as if his mind had captured a picture.

I don't remember her being so beautiful..

But then he remembered my nervousness, the uncomfortable glances I'd thrown in his direction the other night. Memories of the bitter arguments that had gone on between us before he'd left for California flooded into Tay's mind:

"I can't believe you Taylor Hanson!" I shouted, fists clenched tightly. "You think you can just tell me what to do with my life, well, you're wrong! So damn wrong!"

"I just wanted to help Maggie," he whispered now.

"I've never been so embarrassed before! I thought you were my friend! I hate you!" My chin trembled and my eyes welled up with tears. But I held them; I'd never give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. Not now. Certainly not ever again.

"I'm really sorry," Tay mumbled his reply to the empty playground. "I wanted to help you."

"Help me!? You can help me staying away from me! I never want to see you again! Ever!!" Screaming as loudly as I could on the last word, I raised my fist near his face, showing him my fingers shaking with anger. His normally brilliant blue eyes stared dully down at me. I couldn't take this. Turning around, the tears started falling before I took the first running step back to my house.

He remembered my green eyes, normally sparkling bright with happiness, were darker than the storm clouds that now accumulated over his head. He remembered the soft sobs I'd been unable to hold in as I ran away, the last sounds he would hear escape from my mouth for five years. Each gasp had gouged out a piece of Tay's heart. He remembered staying up late nights for weeks in Los Angelos, furtively writing his thoughts, carefully choosing each word, only to have it dismissed with one click of the 'delete' key. All that thinking, planning, and worrying wasted.

She didn't care.. she still doesn't care. His sadness dissappeared, only to be replaced with anger. Tay stood up suddenly, his fist clenched tightly.

"IT WASN'T MY FUCKING FAULT!!"

Surprisingly, the outburst made him feel better.. not much though. Noticing a brewing storm, he stuck his hands in his coat pockets and headed back to the Jeep. Two tiny pieces of paper brushed roughly against his fingers as he quickened his pace. Pulling them out, he found the first one was my business card from the health club.

Maybe I could call her sometime.. And say what? He looked at its creases and worn edges, from the times Zac'd fidgeted with the idea of asking me out, actually having the nerve to ask Tay if he thought I'd go out with him.

And I actually said yes.. talk about nerve. Looking at the second piece of paper, he realized it was a receipt from the Blue Swan.

God, he took her there? Zac must really like her.. Tay hated the thought of us, his little brother with me. Crunching the slips of paper tightly between his fingers, he opened his fingers, dropped them to the ground, and walked silently back to the car.

I'd blown it years ago. Dating his brother only seemed fitting torture for when we met up again.

How much does she want to hurt me? Bitch.