Running Away

chapter fifteen: a tell-all magazine article waiting to happen

Edited.

F I F T E E N : A TELL-ALL MAGAZINE ARTICLE WAITING TO HAPPEN

– Derek –

Taylor looked rather uncomfortable sitting across from me. Devon had convinced the two of us to retreat into his apartment before getting into the finer details of her predicament, but the trip from the lobby to the living room seemed to have unnerved Taylor completely. Now, she was perched on the edge of the sofa, fingers twisted into knots on her fidgeting knees.

"Well, for starters," Taylor began slowly, carefully, like she was easing her toes into a pool of cold water. She kept her ice blue irises trained deliberately somewhere in the vicinity of her shoelaces, apparently avoiding eye contact with me at all costs. After another moment, "Devon isn't my cousin, he's my half-brother."

She stated the fact almost nonchalantly, but the tension in the air between us was tangible. Even Devon seemed to feel it, and when I turned to him for some sort of sign—something to show me that this was all one big joke, that both Taylor and Devon were pulling an elaborate prank on me—he only nodded.

"Your half-brother," I echoed softly, tasting the words for myself.

"My father cheated on his wife with Indiana Whitmore," she explained, "who is technically my mom. And because my dad is Paul O'Donnell, and the news that he'd gotten Janelle O'Donnell's younger sister pregnant would ruin his reputation as a 'respected and beloved actor,' they decided to hide me from the media—and," Taylor paused, her breaths ragged and uneven, like she was struggling to hold back and onslaught of tears, "from the rest of the world."

I gaped at her, rendered practically speechless. Taylor was the would-be famous child of famous actor Paul O'Donnell and famous fashion designer Indiana Whitmore; she was both famous ex-model Janelle O'Donnell's and famous director George Blythe's niece and step-daughter; she was famous current-model Isabella O'Donnell's younger half-sister. She was an innocent third party caught in the midst of an enormous amount of selfishness and deceit. Hell, she was an insane tell-all magazine article waiting to happen.

"So," I muttered, fragments of the puzzle starting to piece themselves together in my mind, "you ran away from home the first chance you got."

"Right," Taylor huffed, barely above a whisper. "But that's wrecked now, isn't it? I'm sure Janelle and Paul have ransacked the house looking for me, and I was stupid enough to take Paul's favorite car. It's only a matter of time before they find me hiding out here, and then—"

"—but they won't find you." I blurted. Both Taylor and Devon were staring at me, clearly disbelieving. Without taking a second to think through my suggestion, I said, "Because you can stay with me. They'll never know."

Taylor blinked, startled by my rash idea. And, of course, it was rather rash. After all, Taylor staying with me meant I would have to somehow fit her into a tiny apartment along with my older brother and his family. She'd known me for a total of two days; our relationship didn't even equate to friendship at this point. There was no doubt that Devon would be uncomfortable with such an arrangement, what with his cousin planning on living in the same place as his idiot of a best friend.

Despite all of the very apparent complications, I wanted nothing more than for Taylor to agree. I wanted her closer to me.

As if reading my mind, Devon said, "Aren't Warren, Miranda, and Levi crashing with you?" He arched a suspicious brow at me, and I felt my minuscule beacon of excitement shatter immediately. Shrugging, he added, "I just don't know how it'll work out, having Taylor there. Where will you all sleep?"