25 - Sheila - Unknown
I remember touring in Europe. I loved it there. Loved the way peace engulfed the more rural side of countries, the way the fans really loved you -- different from back in the States -- the way the people all seemed so...different. That's also where I met Sheila. She wasthe onethat told me those four words that meant more than the world to me.
It was in Germany. Isaac, Zac and I just finished doing a show and there were a few winners backstage we got to meet. It was pretty amazing considering we've only been "out" for almost four years. Yet, there they were. The faithful fans screaming, crying, sobbing. Holding on to their most precious possession. An orange, square piece of paper.
She stood out from the rest of them. She was tall, something like 5'9". She had bobbed black hair that bounced lightly with the heavenly steps she took. It fell around her face so as I could only see the beginning of slanted, ice blue eyes, the tip of a small pointed nose, and pouted lips painted in a deep, almost black, red. Her grey skirt fell to just over her knees and wrapped around her legs like a silky, smooth tube. A matching jacket was thrown over her broad shoulders that supported the skinny straps of her pink tank top.
"Beautiful," I whispered to myself, casting my eyes down to the cold cement floor.
She walked over as if I was on the other end of an imaginary catwalk -- placing one platform graced foot right in front of the other in perfect sync with my heartbeats.
"Hi," she said in an accentless voice. She didn't look at me, but thrust the paper into my hands. "Can you sign this...please?" she asked.
"Gladly." As I took the paper from her hands I faintly touched her soft, warm flesh. The paper had been warm too -- I thought of just how a minute ago this goddess held the very same piece. "What's, your name?" I managed asking amidst other thoughts.
"Sheila," she answered with a little smile.
I looked up at her smiled back. "That a very nice name."
"Thanks. I think it means blind." She took her eyes to mine. "Like love."
She added those last two words as if this was all a planned conversation. It was a hint she felt just as I did.
"Like love," I repeated handing her back the CD slip. Instead of just letting go of the paper, I took a hold of her hand not caring if all the rest of the girls were jealous.
"Where are you taking me?" Sheila asked shaking her head. It's not like she really cared.
"Just out," I answered.
I don't really remember where I took her. I think it was just across the street a small restaurant. It didn't matter. Everything during that time we spent together was forgotten. It was what happened after that mattered.
We stood in the cold night, the wind brushing against our faces like whispers. If it wasn't for the full moon or the stars out that night, it would have been pitch black. I had my arm around her shoulders, and she had her head on mine's. Both being 17, no one cared where we were. But I had to go home anyway. That night.
"There's a taxi coming down the street," I told her. "Let's take it."
It saw us, two figures standing down the dark street, and started driving over.
"Let me talk," Sheila said out of nowhere.
"Why?" I asked her not really caring.
"I can get it for cheaper." When she said that I thought it had something to do with the power of her looks, but she continued. "You're American."
I just looked at her, my forehead wrinkled in confusion. "How can he tell? We both dress the same, look the same, talk the same." I explained.
"Taylor," she said biting her lip. "Freedom."
"Yeah?" I asked as the car pulled up.
"It's in your eyes."
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