Page 7 of That: Taylor & Brooks

Brooks didn’t say anything else. He just drove.

A few quiet minutes later, he eased into the lot of Deeda’s All-Night Diner. Taylor blinked, confused.

Her stomach growled. It was already after seven. She hadn’t eaten since lunch. She should’ve been home hours ago. Her entire day had been wrecked.

“You ate already?” He asked.

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. Don’t fight me.”

He cut the engine but didn’t move.

Then he turned to her.

“Listen, I ain’t your brother. I ain’t your friend. I’m your Uber and ear tonight. Whatever you say stays between us. If you even wanna say anything, cool. If not, cool, no pressure from me.”

Taylor studied his profile, trying to gauge his sincerity. After another second, he got out of the car and came around to open her door.

“I can’t.” She shook her head, turning to look up at him. “I appreciate it, but...”

“But what?” Brooks crouched a little so they were eye level. His tone was relaxed, but there was steel underneath. “You gonna sit and suffer in silence? Thinking about him sitting in a holding cell? That’s exactly where his drunk ass belongs.”

The words were blunt, but his delivery wasn’t. He was serving truth, not judgment.

“Sometimes you need somebody who ain’t invested in your image,” he added. “Somebody who can just listen. I can do that. I don’t give a fuck about dude.”

Taylor’s mouth trembled. She dropped her eyes, voice cracking.

“I’m so exhausted, Brooks.”

She sniffed, shaking her head at herself, unraveling in real time.

“All of this showing up and getting nothing back.Pretending everything is peachy when it’s not. I’m always the one holding it together. I’m worn thin. I’m embarrassed. I feel stupid for letting him break me down like this. I’m too old for this mess,” she rambled off looking away again, ashamed.

He reached for her hand and pulled her from the car, “I know. Come on, let’s get some food first and then we’ll handle the rest.”

Taylor wiped her eyes and nodded slowly. They stepped inside the diner and the smell of coffee clung to the air. Not warm. Not inviting. Just familiar. And suddenly, Taylor was somewhere else.

It was 7:10 in the morning and still barely light out when she pulled into the high school parking lot, gospel music low on the radio, her edges still trying to lay right under her hoodie. Her breath fogged the cold window as she reached for her bag in the back seat.

She hadn’t even cut the engine before he appeared.

Tyree leaned against her car like he belonged there, hood pulled low, with that same boyish grin he wore every Sunday when he mouthed the words to praise and worship instead of singing them.

Backpack slung over one shoulder.

Two cups of coffee in a drink tray balanced on his palm.

“You stalking me now?” She called out, stepping out of the car with a half smile.

He shrugged. “Nah, I’m just here to make sure my future wife ain’t walking into school empty-handed.”

“Boy, stop,” she said, laughing as she glanced around.

He held one of the cups out to her.

“Dunkin for my pumpkin.”

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