Steve had shrugged, not comfortable walking arm in arm with another guy, intimidated that Enzo might just as well beat the shit out of him rather than kiss his cheek. Enzo was two inches shorter than Steve, but all muscle and machismo.
“She's fucking sexy, right?” Enzo had said, turning around and walking backward, grinning at Steve.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever, man.”
He’d hooted at Steve's reply, full of himself, full of being young. “Sexy girl,” he'd said and licked his lips.
After that, it was as if Enzo and Taylor's whole relationship existed solely to be performed specifically for Steve and Serene's benefit. Although, Serene was really good at being oblivious to things she didn't want to see. She had this way of looking straight through a person, turning her shoulder or her back with indifferent nonchalance. Her snubs were so subtle that they made a person second guess them, thinking they were misreading something.
Enzo caught Steve's eye when he stepped out Serene's front door, and he put his index finger and thumb in his mouth, making that shrill whistle that Steve was never able to learn. Taylor paused as Enzo waved her over. She swished her hair over her shoulder, before making her way back to Enzo, who swooped an arm around her waist, his hand gliding down to her butt while they kissed. Steve rolled his eyes. The beep of Julie's horn prompted Taylor to turn around. Julie waved impatiently for her to come on, and that's when Taylor noticed him. She froze and then kissed her hand and blew across it, making the mwah motion with her lips, her signature see you. Steve didn't return the gesture. Instead, he crossed the street to his house.
Prepared to make excuses for coming home late, the wrongness hit him like a hammer between the eyes. In the evenings, his dad, without fail, could be found in his armchair, watching sports or the news. Instead, he stood gazing at the wall, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The kitchen was dark and the usual dinner aroma that should have been wafting through the house was absent.
"Hey," Steve said.
His dad threw back his drink. "Steve's home," he called out. "Why don't you come out here, Carrie, and let him know what a dirty old man your dad is."
Their mother strode into the living room from the hallway that led to the bedrooms, face pinched, eyes glittering. "Stop it, Ron. Just stop it!"
"What's going on?" Steve took a step toward his parents and his dad spun to face him.
"Talk to your sister. She seems to think I'm some sort of pervert. Right, Carrie?" He yelled over their mother's shoulder.
"Ron! You've had too much to drink." Maggie grabbed at his arm, but he yanked himself out of her grasp, his lips thinned, colorless and pressed hard together.
"Where's Carrie?" Steve asked.
"Yeah. Where is Carrie?" His dad slurred back, but the question was directed at their mother.
Steve headed toward his sister's room, mind spinning. If his dad did something to her.
He knocked on her door. "It's me."
Carrie opened it, looking wan and small.
"Carrie, what the fuck is going on? Are you okay? Did Dad do something to you?"
She crossed her arms and said nothing.
"Can I come in?"
"Yeah, come in," she said in a low voice. Once her brother was inside, she shut the door.
"What the hell is going on?"
"It's Taylor."
"Taylor?" What was she talking about? What did Taylor have to do with any of this?
"She came by, looking for you."
Steve still felt confused.
"So?"
"Dad was here, and he told her you'd be home soon. That she could wait. I was around for that part, and then I came in here to do some homework, and when I went back into the living room, Taylor was sitting on Dad's lap."
"What?!"
His exclamation was so loud that their dad yelled back.
"I hear you got the memo."
"She was sitting on his fucking lap. Playing with his fucking hair. As soon as she saw me, she jumped up." Carrie spat out the words, face white. Her features looked frozen and all Steve could focus on was her mouth and how tiny it was. He'd never noticed before.
He felt like he was going to be sick. "So Dad was just… did it look romantic?" His head spun with the implications.
"Everything happened so fast," Carrie said, her anger dialed down a little. "Dad says he didn't know she was going to do that. That one minute she was sitting on the sofa and next she was in his lap."
"Well, he should have fucking pushed her off. Shit!"
"Exactly. Instead, he let her stay for a few moments to play with his fucking hair because––get this," Carrie made air quotes, "she seemed lost."
"Christ," Steve muttered. "This is taking things too far, flirting with Dad like that. And I just saw her coming from Enzo's."
"Yeah. She hightailed it out of here when I caught them. The last half hour has been a regular shit show."
There was a soft knock on the door and they both knew it was their mother before she came inside. She looked drained, cheeks sagging.
"I've been talking to your dad," she said, eyes darting from one to the other of them. "And I believe him. I believe that he didn't know Taylor was going to do what she did."
"Why didn't he tell her to get off him?!" Carrie demanded.
Their mother brought her hands to her face and shook her head, speaking into them. "I don't know. He keeps saying he felt sorry for her." She brought her hands down, stretching out her fingers. “And you know what? I believe him. That girl…” Their mother pointed at the door as if it were Taylor. "She's a terrible flirt. I've seen how she flirts with other boys, even how she's interacted with your dad, flirting with him. Still, he's never given her the slightest provocation. Maybe Taylor's expressing a need for a father figure. Didn't her dad recently move out?"
"She's too fucking old to be crawling into grown
