Two Birds and a Butterfly

Flutter-flutter-flutter--splat!

Upon waking up at four am, as per usual, I grabbed my notebook and went into Theo’s room. He wasn’t there (go figure. I’m not really worried…not for him, anyway). His room has a balcony and I like sitting outside there as the night becomes day and writing my raps. It’s calming, plus I get to see Theodore when he returns.

Sitting there on the wooden deck chairs with a pencil and woolly blanket, I began to doodle, eventually started to write based on what I had drawn. Sometimes, I write about Tayleigh (her doodle is a butterfly with barbed wire around it) or Theo (his doodle is just a butterfly) or myself. My doodle is a tear. Whenever I press too hard and tear the paper—thoughts about me go in. I had only written ten lines when I glanced at the sky and rushed to be, noting that Theo hadn’t returned yet.

It wasn’t that big of a deal: Tayleigh didn’t try to police him the way she policed me, so she wouldn’t notice. Not for a short while.

As I returned to my room, after leaving my latest half-creation in the blankets for Theo to discover and edit, I heard Tayleigh in the shower, singing. Above my bed was a post-it note.

Classic Tayleigh.

You were meant to be in bed by the time I walked in this morning, George. You are showering straight after me (five min, please, for once!). Then Theo, of course, though I’m sure he knows that. Love, T

One day, I am going to vandalise her room with post-its. Tayleigh refuses to clean my room, so, one month, I didn’t remove a single post-it. She started putting on dates so that I could keep up. By the end of the month…I realized just how many post-its Tayleigh used on a daily basis. I tossed the latest one in my bedside bin, then got up to go shower. The singing had stopped, and Tayleigh was out. As I walked to the bathroom, I popped into Tayleigh’s room to say good morning, then into Theo’s room to see if he was there.

I sighed with relief as I saw him, sitting on the bed, working out with two weights while doing lunges while reading my rap, grunting.

“I’ll properly go through it later,” he promised, without turning around. I guess he knew it wasn’t Tayleigh. I wonder if she doesn’t like Theo, because she doesn’t really, well, hang around with him, much.

“OK. You were late.”

“I know.” Theo sounded regretful. “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You didn’t,” I lied.

“Yes, I did.”

Pause.

“I’ve got to go shower,” I murmured, “excuse me.”

Exiting the room, I proceeded to jump into a hot, soothing shower. This was just what I needed in the morning.

However, Tayleigh interrupted me a mere ten minutes later, by banging on the door.

“GEORGE!” she shrieked, “GET OUT!”

Quickly rubbing a bit of soap over my short hair (it was just a centimetre long, shorter than a “pixie cut”) I rinsed it off and climbed out before slumping out of the bathroom.

“You’ve got soap behind your ear,” Tayleigh pointed out.

“Killjoy,” I retorted.

Half an hour later, I was changed, and Tayleigh had eaten breakfast. Theodore had just sat down in front of the TV with her with some all-bran flakes, while she had eaten her muesli with organic, fat free yoghurt. She can diet all the wants, but unless she gets a breast reduction, she will always be a c-cup. She has the body of Tyra Banks in her Victoria Secret Angel days. It’s me who is unnaturally slim, without effort. Poor Tayleigh.

“Eat,” she ordered, upon seeing me fully dressed, “Theo’s also going to need to hurry.”

I never got why she could never speak to him directly.

The thing is, Theo doesn’t really need to be spoken to. He fits all Tayleigh’s requirements; he listens to her—even though she doesn’t say anything. Conversation isn’t really necessary.

But what happened to familial bonds between members?

She handed me a fried egg (no yolk—go figure. That’s the only good part), a glass of full cream milk (she thinks of me as too “skinny”…yet she won’t let me have yolks) and a two slices of toast.

“You need more protein in your diet,” she informed me as I sat down. Theo was watching a recording of High School Musical 2. You’d think that at our age, we’d be over that kind of thing, but it’s the only thing all three of us are really together in.

Movies.

For a month after watching Easy A together, we played one song constantly on the weekends: Pocket Full Of Sunshine.

After watching High School Musical, we sang whenever and wherever appropriate: one of the songs. That same year, on New Year’s Eve, we all sung The Start Of Something New.

I know. But songs from movies are usually the best.

I knew that for the duration of the day, I’d have that blasted song (You Are The Music In Me) in my head. Great. I sat down and scoffed down my restricted breakfast (I’m kind of used to it now, but that doesn’t mean I like it. Tayleigh refused to let me add salt to my egg because she saw me eating a packet of Lays yesterday and decided that my sodium intake was so high that I was thinning my blood and due for a seizure any second. I told her that she was mental. My bread didn’t even have any margarine. The egg was meant to add flavor, apparently. Honestly—Tayleigh can be so trying) Not caring, I got up to grab some tomato sauce, when Tayleigh hollered, “What do I have to say to make you listen to me?!”

I raised my eyebrows, and glanced at Theo. We locked eyes, and then I turned to face Tayleigh.

“You know the words: once upon a time

Make you listen

There’s a reason.”

Tayleigh didn’t hesitate before joining in, harmonizing.

“And when you dream, there’s a chance you’ll find

A little laughter

Or happy ever after…”

Theo jumped in where Troy Bolton took over:

“Your harmony

To the melody

That’s echoing inside my head a single voice

Above the noise

And like a common thread

Mmm, you’re pulling me…”

I let them continue while I finished off my breakfast.

The only time Tayleigh isn’t uptight and controlling is when she’s asleep…and singing.

I bet, like, right before she dies at the tender age of two hundred (health freakkk alert), we’ll find three hundred post-its stuck up, planning her funeral, with a guest list….

I finished off my milk, and they finished off the song.

“OK, Gabriella and Troy, let’s go,” I prompted.

“After you, Kelsey,” Theo replied, grinning.