These Lights Are Much Too Bright

“Taylor!!!” my overly loud, and not too mention early alarm clock sounded. See most people in the summer sleep ‘til possibly one in the afternoon when they are out of school. I, however, have not been able to do that as of late. Secondly, most people have an alarm clock that wakes them up at the set time by them, and it’s an actual alarm clock. I have the girls that camp out in the front yard of a ridiculously large mansion of a rather famous person.

“Curse you Twilighters,” I grumbled looking at my clock to see that it was six in the morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a twilight fan, too, but once you have a good taste of the die-hard fans you’ll want to eat your words and say you’ve never even heard of anything to do with twilight.

Begrudgingly, I slipped from under the covers and went to my window to see what the commotion was all about, but sadly I already knew the story. It was pretty simple who they had come to see and what happened every morning. This had become routine now, especially over the summers for the past two years now. Now I bet you’re wondering what the routine is, well I’ll tell you.

One. Each morning—let’s say around three—fans come here to see their ‘future husband.’ As if.

Two. Each morning at six sharp he comes out of the house to go for his morning workout routine.

Three. At that time the girls go ballistic and begin to scream not caring about the fact that they are disturbing the whole neighborhood. It is pretty obvious that they are from some other place besides L.A., Chicago, or New York, because in these three places being famous is really not that much of a shocker, to most of the population there at least.

Four. I am rudely awakened and after waking up, I can no longer go back to sleep.

Five. Being a fan myself, sometimes I like to look out the window and stare at none other than the ever so gorgeous Taylor Lautner try to make his way through a heap of earsplitting shrieks from girls. It’s kind of amusing seeing that he tries to be nice, but honestly I don’t think I buy it anymore. Beforehand, I used to be head over heels for him—not a screaming girl, though—but now the media has managed to change my mind. After apparently cheating on his girlfriend, it shattered my fantasy of him being the perfect boyfriend. We’re all flawed, but that’s a little too much for me to handle, or maybe at the moment.

My cell phone buzzed on the desk making a loud sound due to the vibration on the hard wood of the desk. I walked the distance over the soft carpet underneath my feet to the desk to pick it up. Looking at it, I was instantly disappointed that it had been a call rather than a text. My parents would kill me if they knew that I was up this early talking on the phone, they would ask why I wasn’t asleep, and who would I be talking to. Both of those questions were obvious. The reason to the first one was Taylor Lautner, and the second one was my B.F.F. Jill—it was really short for Jillian.

I’d always wanted to answer my mom with ‘IDK, my B.F.F. Jill,’ when she asked who I would be texting. The media is to blame for this, because ever since texting phones came out that was probably the most memorable quote.

“Hello?” I whispered harshly.

“Shit! Sorry Natasha, I’d forgotten about the interrogating parents,” Jill began apologizing profusely.

“It’s fine. Once they are both off to work it doesn’t really matter, but you know how cranky they get in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

“So, what is this time.”

“Oh come on, Nat! Like you don’t obviously know that I am calling about the little infamous details about Taylor Lautner. I’m still rather jealous that you get to live across the street from a mega hottie.”

“Jill, honestly, when it comes to the screaming fans, I would trade for a nice normal neighborhood like yours any day!” Sometimes I wished that I could endure the fans of his, because secretly I had a teensy crush on him. Jill, however, got dibs on him first, and well it’s dibs dude. He was so much better when we he had first moved here, right after filming Shark Boy and Lava Girl. Sure he wasn’t the heart rob he is now, but he was still a cute child.

“Right. Seriously, I’m not even close to rich. You get extravagant vacations around the world every summer, spring break, and winter break, let’s not mention Thanksgiving. What do I get boring old L.A. not so rich neighborhood, where the coolest thing that happens here is watching the cops run through your backyard while chasing a gang banger that you know by first name and wave hello to on the street with a smile as to not get shot.”

“See that sounds pretty fun.” It was kind of depressing that parents were never home and made up for it by buying me tickets to go with my ‘friends’ on trips, truthfully I’d rather have them interrogate me than have to hang out with the bitchy suburban L.A. girls.
“Let’s get a move on about the details!”

“Right …” Tiredly, I trudged back to the massive window and stared through it, eyes scanning for Taylor. “Okay so, he’s apparently with his dad, he’s wearing clothes suited for working out at the gym, and he’s still as gorgeous as ever.”

It was quiet on the other line for a moment, but then I heard a gushing sigh on the other end of the line. It was rather palpable that Jill was daydreaming about him already. Personally, I wouldn’t really want to know what she was thinking at the current moment.

“Hey Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to seem mean, but …”

“Just spill it Jill,” I snapped a little impatiently at her. Candidly, I had no desire of being up this hour in the morning.

“Okay. Isn’t it funny how he turned out so beautiful, but his parents are rather … well you’ve seen them.” I gasped a little shocked at her bitchy remark. She wasn’t usually like that, but then I’ve trained her well, or so it seemed.

“I know! They completely ruin the stereotype we have in this neighborhood. His mother doesn’t even seemed content to being a housewife, and his dad doesn’t hit the jump and flew his muscles through suits to show the whole ’don’t mess with me thing’ like most fathers within the neighborhood.”

“Well I can sure as heck breathe again.”

“Idiot. You’ve been breathing, if not you would’ve passed out.”

“You know what I mean.”

Our happy chatter continued on for minutes. Silently, I was thanking God that my mother had not yet heard me yet. However, I had spoken much too soon.

“Natasha?” my mother asked, poking her head into the room.

I kept the cell phone by my ear not bothering to hide the fact that I’ve been talking on the telephone.

“Yes, Mom?”

“Who are you talking to?”

“IDK, my BFF, Jill?”

She gave me a look of thought. It was obvious that she was wondering whether or not Jill was a guy or girl. It was funny, that although Jill and I have been best friends for so long, yet she always seemed to question who Jill was.

“Jill, my best friend Jill, Mom. The girl?”

“Oh yeah, her! I keep forgetting.”

“No, Mom. You just fret too much,” I wittily said.

“Right, well your father and I might be home late to night so—”

“I already know,” I cut her off, not wanting to drag the conversation on anymore than necessary.

I love my parents, but growing up with them being busy with their business, I had no need for them much. Sadly, I’m thankful that they were always so busy. Nannies have come and gone in my life like the seasons had changed until I turned twelve. I learned how to curse in about fourteen different languages, or say “I’m calling border patrol.”

“Okay, sweetie. See you.”

“Mmmhhmm,” I replied. After she closed the door, I resumed my conversation with Jill.
“So what are you doing today Nat?”

“Nothing of interest.”

“I see. Don’t you think it’d be fun to introduce me to Taylor Lautner?” she asked sheepishly. My face probably had a strange look to it at her request. I haven’t had talked to boy in years, yet she wants an introductory.

It made me wonder how she could call herself an L.A. local when celebrities still excited her. Sure we had people around here that still drooled over celebs, but we usually believed them to be either psychotic or financially unstable enough to not be able to party with them.

Harsh, but true.