The Oldest Cliché in the Book

Taylor slipped out of her clothes and into her pajamas with a heavy sigh. It had been a long evening of faking interest in Matthew’s blossoming career and being kind for her parent’s sake. She had also had a night full of snide comments muttered under the breath; some of which had even brought her near tears.

She tiredly stretched out on her bed and started to dream about her apartment. She couldn’t wait to go back. Though seeing Matthew was always the worst part of Christmas, being home was second best. It just held to many memories of her younger years where she hated Matthew but abhorred herself even more.

She never admitted, out loud at least, that when she was younger, his words stung. He wouldn’t have to say much, just like he didn’t that evening, but what he said would tear her down. She would always wait until she was in this same bedroom before she let it all fall.

Her mind was too busy with recalling all the awful memories she had been trying to bury for the past seven years to notice the tapping on her window. It continued for a bit, but she still didn’t pay it any mind. Then the window opened.

Taylor squealed as she hopped from the bed and grabbed the closest thing to her that looked threatening. Her eyebrows furrowed together when she saw the face outside her open window. “Matt?” She slowly took the steps toward him as her mind tried to catch up with what she was seeing.

“Tay.” He smiled tightly and nodded his head. Then his attention was distracted by the small umbrella in her hand. “Were you planning on hitting me with that?” He was more amused than anything and Taylor felt her cheeks heat up as she tossed the umbrella to the ground.

“I thought you were some kind of burglar.” She grumbled and then crossed her arms over her chest, glaring down at the boy. “What the hell are you doing?”

He groaned and that’s when she picked up on how sickly he looked. His face was pale white and there were dark circles under his shifty eyes. He was obviously overly anxious and nervous.

“Well?” She prompted him with a tap of her foot and he finally rolled his eyes.

“All right, I … well, I need,” he paused and glanced at her. “I need your help.” She almost fell to the floor giggling.

“Help with what?”

He continued to fidget and frown until finally he sighed. “There’s a spider in my room. It’s right by the door to my room so I can’t get out. I need you to come and kill the spider.” He begged and pleaded.

She kneeled down and stuck her head out a bit, looking over at the window that was open in the house beside the one she was in. She snorted. “Did you really crawl out your window because of some spider?” This had to be some joke, she figured.

“I didn’t have any other choice. I told you, the spider is almost directly in front of my door. I had to climb out the window to get away from it and now the front door is locked so I can’t just go sleep on the couch. You have to kill the spider.”

She snorted. “I’m not killing any spider, especially for you.”

He glared, harder than he had earlier. “It’s just a damn spider.”

“Then why don’t you leave it alone and just go to damn sleep?” She teased and smirked as he bit his bottom lip. Most of the time, she was always at his leisure, but she liked having the tables turned.

He groaned again, quite loudly this time though. “I’m scared of spiders, okay? I’m absolutely terrified of them. I can’t go near one or really even see one. It’s called Arachnophobia. I’ve had it since I was a very young kid. Now will you please come kill the spider?”

“This is really too good.” She giggled and then shook her head. “I’m still not climbing out my window to kill some little spider for you. Toughen up, you pansy.” Her wide smirk fell as he pushed her back by her shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“If you’re not going to kill it for me.” He grinned as he grabbed her window sill firmly and then, not so gracefully yet effectively and quickly, pulled himself into her room. He fell to the floor at first, right at her feet. Then he stood up and grinned some more at her shocked face. “I suppose I’m just going to have to sleep here.”

“Um, no?” She followed him toward her bed. “There’s no way in hell or heaven I’d ever share a bed with you.”

“You could sleep on the floor.” He shrugged as he pulled her blankets back. “It really doesn’t matter to me.”

“This is my home, my bedroom, and my bed! I demand you get your scrawny arse out of it right now, Matthew Robert Smith!”

“You think I’m really intimidated because you know my full name?” He arched an eyebrow and then sat on the edge of the bed. “I will make a deal with you though. If you go kill that spider for me,” he pointed toward the window, “I’ll leave you alone.”

She scoffed. “I’m not killing any spider. You’re ridiculous.”

He laid down with his head on her pillow and his hands behind his head. “I’m sleeping here then.”

“No, you’re not!” She started to try and shove him off the bed, but it wasn’t much use. He barely even budged. He moved his side at one point, making her lose her balance. She barely caught herself before she landed on top of him. She did, however, end up hovering over him slightly as he smirked.

“Yes, I am.” He grabbed her hips and turned over, pulling her so that she was now lying on the bed beside him. Her eyes widened. “Goodnight, Tay.” She was too stunned to fight anymore so she stayed silent and frozen as he drifted off. After staring at him for so long, she drifted off too.



When she awoke, Matthew was gone. She shook her head and convinced herself she’d imagined all of it. There was absolutely no chance she’d slept in the same room as him. There was just no simple way.

She skipped down to the kitchen, still in her pajamas, and sat at the bar. Her mind was on the smell of pancakes as she pushed her silly dream away. It wasn’t until her mother placed a plate of the pancakes in front of her that she noticed her mother’s expression.

“You all right, mum?” Taylor frowned slightly as she held her fork in her hand and eyed her mother cautiously.

“Oh, perfectly fine, Tay.” She nodded and grinned. Taylor stared at her for a few more moments before she dismissed the weird behavior. When she was halfway done with her pancakes, her father strolled in the paper.

“So Tay,” her father smirked as he came to sit beside her. Her eyebrows scrunched together with confusion as he elbowed her in the side. “Did you have a busy night?”

“No. I went to sleep about the same time you did.” She switched her glance from her father to her mother and then back. “Okay, what the hell did I miss?” She demanded as she sat her fork down.

Her mother giggled. “We saw Matt this morning, dear. You don’t have to hide it.”

The blood drained from her head. “M-M-Matt?” Her mouth fell open. She had convinced herself so well that it was all a dream that now she felt like she was in some kind of nightmare. “Oh my God.” She buried her face in her hands while her parents chuckled.

“It’s all right, Tay. You are an adult.” Her mother stopped in front of her and grinned. “You and Matt.” She shook her head and bit her bottom lip. “I can’t wait to talk to Joan.”

Taylor’s eyes widened. “Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no, no.”

“We would appreciate a little heads up next time though, Tay.” Her father grunted and then winked at her. “The poor kid turned white as a ghost this morning when I ran into him.”

“You guys don’t understand. There is no ‘Matt and I’. There was a spider in his room.” She rambled and then watched in horror as both her parents laughed again. “He’s scared of spiders. I swear! Nothing else happened.” She raised her hands and her mother rolled her eyes.

“You can deny it all you want, Tay. You and Matt have chemistry. You always have.” Taylor’s mouth fell open again at her mother’s words. She couldn’t understand how someone could think there was chemistry when all they did was fight. She wondered if maybe they were too good at hiding the fighting. “Are you going to need the car to go to the mall today?”

“What for?” Taylor grumbled. She was only slightly happy that the subject was changed.

“To get the last minute presents, of course.” Her mother gave her a look while her father chuckled again.

“I’m actually on track this year.” She fake beamed. “I bought everyone’s presents earlier.”

Her mother arched her eyebrows. “Even Matt’s?”

Taylor snorted. “I don’t ever get Matt a present.”

“Well this year, you are. You know where the keys are. You’re father will give you money if you need it.”

“But, I … not … don’t …” Taylor was at quite a loss for words.

“Just get him a damn present, Tay.” Her mother tossed a rag into the kitchen sink and placed her hands on her hips. Taylor shrank away at the curse. Her mother hardly ever cursed.

She chewed on her cheek and then sighed. “Fine.”