- Taylor's POV -
“Hey Mom, I got another A,” I said, heaving my backpack off my shoulder. I heard the TV on in the living room--Dad’s probably watching one of his games--and somewhere Elijah and Isaac were fighting over who got to use the swivel chair Lego piece. The house was chaotic as usual.
“That’s nice, Taylor,” Mom replied distractedly over the sound of my little sister Emilie screaming. Mom was trying to juggle washing dishes and Emilie at the same time and wasn’t managing either. Emilie had been in quite the mood recently, strange for a two year old. Who even knows with kids? I thought.
Mom planted a peck on my cheek and turned back to the dishes, the worry lines on her face especially prominent.
I sighed and plodded to my room. Hopefully the boys hadn’t TP’d it again. I shivered as I remembered the incident. That was a disaster.
I pushed open the door. Thank goodness. No toilet paper. The twins hadn’t touched my room. I let out a relieved breath.
Slinging my backpack into my desk chair, I flopped down into my bed. There wasn’t anything I wanted right then more than peace and quiet. The house had been incredibly loud as of late, what with Emilie’s screaming and the twin’s occasional fighting and…I sighed. And Mom and Dad’s fighting. That was probably what had been setting off the loud house. Whenever I came home from school, they were either fighting or ignoring each other. The tension really affected the family atmosphere.
I hopped off the bed and went over to my vanity. I shared the bathroom with my younger siblings, so a vanity gave me a little more privacy to get ready for the day in the mornings. It wasn’t gaudy, just a simple desk-dresser-thing with a mirror.
I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. There wasn’t much to look at. Blue eyes, black hair like my mom’s. Too short to look my actual age, eighteen. Sighing, I turned on my heel and sat down at my laptop. Time to waste some time on the internet.
After a while, I tired of social media. It was too full of happy people. Leaning back, I laced my fingers behind my head and gazed at the ceiling. Now what? Suddenly it hit me. Homework. I groaned. Why is it that I get home from school and then have to do more school?
I pushed the laptop across my desk and plugged away at my homework, saving my favorite for last. My favorite part of homework, even though I hated all of it, was the programming. I loved to read and type countless pages of code and watch as it did exactly what I wanted to. Most of the time. But the numbers just attracted me. Maybe it was because they never changed, unlike people.
Trying my best not to get bitter, I scribbled furiously at my history notes, wrote some of an essay, and then looked at the clock. 7:23 pm, I thought. Mom will be calling for dinner any minute. Let’s see how much code I can get done.
My teacher had assigned the class a faulty program that we were supposed to each fix. My fingers flew across the keyboard and my eyes searched the countless numbers, letters, and symbols as I looked for the bugs. As soon as I found and fixed one, another would take its place as a result. I chewed my lip. “Hmm.” These all seem to be minor problems. They don’t really affect the program itself. So where’s the big bug?”
Click, click, click. Space bar, space bar, enter enter enter. The key sequences left the screen as soon as they entered it. Where could it be…?
“Honey! Taylor, dinner!” I heard Mom’s call, but decided to ignore it in favor of a few more minutes of concentration. I didn’t want to lose my train of thought.
“Taaaylor!” Elijah and Isaac burst through my door loudly. Elijah jumped on my bed, his long dark brown locks flopping over his eyes as he bounced. He gave me a toothy smile as I swiveled to make sure they weren’t destroying anything. Isaac, the twin who was generally sweeter to me, flung his arms around my neck. His hair--just like Elijah’s, because they were identical twins--ticked my face.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered in my ear. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Sure.”
“It’s time for dinner.” He grinned so wide his eyes closed. I grabbed him and tickled his ribs.
“Thanks for the newsflash, dork!” Isaac dissolved into a fit of giggles as I mercilessly dug my fingers into his sides. He begged me to stop, and I finally released him to run away laughing. I stood up and stretched, feeling happy, and then walked into the dining room.
The atmosphere doused my mood like a bucket of cold water. My dad was sitting at the head of the table, where he always sat. This time, like many other nights of late, he was glowering at the plate in front of him. Mom sat down a gurgling Emilie in her high chair, and the boys playfully smacked at each other, seemingly unaware of the tension.
“How was work, Mac?” Mom said, trying to lighten the mood as she served green beans to the twins.
My dad rolled his eyes. “I had lunch with a customer. It went well, not that you'd care. I talked her into buying a share of our company." He worked at a huge graphic design company that created everything from book covers to logos. He made a lot of money, so we lived very well. But that could change any moment, a nagging voice in my head pointed out. Even though Mom worked, Dad was really our primary income. And anyone could see that their marriage was failing.
"That's wonderful, honey," Mom said. Her cheerful voice sounded forced. She tried to get along with Dad, though I don't know why. A divorce was imminent.
Dad huffed. "Oh please. Don't even try, Dianna. Isaac, eat your green beans," he ordered harshly. Mom made a small disapproving sound at his tone of voice, but at his glare she looked down.
"Dad, I got an A on the essay for my English class," I inserted. Maybe he'd he cared this time.
My dad completely ignored me, still shooting angry glances at Mom. I felt my own anger rising up in my chest. I opened my mouth to start ranting, then stopped quickly and shut it. "Excuse me," I said, and got up to go to the bathroom.
After shutting the door, I put my hands on the counter and stared into the mirror. Calm, I told myself. Stay calm. Blowing up will only bring on a yelling match and make the kids cry. Stay. Calm.
"That's wonderful, honey," Mom said. Her cheerful voice sounded forced. She tried to get along with Dad, though I don't know why. A divorce was imminent.
Dad huffed. "Oh please. Don't even try, Dianna. Isaac, eat your green beans," he ordered harshly. Mom made a small disapproving sound at his tone of voice, but at his glare she looked down.
"Dad, I got an A on the essay for my English class," I inserted. Maybe he'd he cared this time.
My dad completely ignored me, still shooting angry glances at Mom. I felt my own anger rising up in my chest. I opened my mouth to start ranting, then stopped quickly and shut it. "Excuse me," I said, and got up to go to the bathroom.
After shutting the door, I put my hands on the counter and stared into the mirror. Calm, I told myself. Stay calm. Blowing up will only bring on a yelling match and make the kids cry. Stay. Calm.
I exited the bathroom and sat down again, my head held high. The rest of the meal was mostly silent. It went better than some had lately. After dinner, Dad went back into the living room to watch TV again. Elijah started to protest that he wanted to play video games, but at a glare from Dad he quieted. Mom looked like she wanted to say something, but kept her mouth shut as well.
I fumed inwardly. Why don’t we just all blow up at him? I screamed inside. Mom could kick him out--she doesn’t need him! I can help support the family, I’ll do anything! I just wish he’d leave already! The past few months flashed through my memory as I recalled the shouting matches, crying, downcast eyes, and icy looks. I gritted my teeth to keep from crying as I helped Mom clean up the kitchen.
“Why don’t I put Emilie to bed?” I offered. My mom looked very tired and ready to cry like I was, so I knew she’d appreciate it.
Mom smiled, her eyes grateful. “That would be amazing, sweetie,” she said. “Thank you so much. It means the world to me when you do things like that.”
“I’d do anything if it would make you smile,” I pledged. “You deserve a break.”
She kissed my forehead and cupped my chin in her hands. I gazed into her eyes, blue like mine. “I love you, Taylor.”
“I love you too, Mom.” I smiled. She pulled me close for a quick hug, then let go, hastily wiping her eyes.
“I’m going to go to bed early tonight, I think.” Mom grabbed a magazine from the table and headed to her bedroom. “Don’t stay up too late doing homework, sweetheart.”
“I won’t. Sleep well!”
“You too!” came the reply, and then I was left alone in the kitchen with a gurgling Emilie. I looked at the clock. 8:45 pm. Hmm. The boys are probably heading to bed, so I shouldn’t have to worry about them. “But it’s way past your bedtime, missy!” I told Emilie. She smiled at me, her two front teeth peeking out from between her chubby lips. I hoisted her out of the highchair and carried her into her room. She was blinking slowly by the time I got her dressed in her pajamas. I read her a book till she dozed in my arms, then lowered her into her crib.
Tiptoeing out of her room, I gently shut the door. Now, back to programming.
It was 10:53 when I finally found the main bug and decoded it. I facepalmed when I found it. It’s always so simple when I know the answer, I thought. How could I not have seen that?
Then it was time for me to go to bed. I took off my makeup, changed into my pjs, brushed my teeth, and snuggled under the covers. My brain raced from figuring out that program, but surprisingly within minutes I fell asleep.
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