CHAPTER BREAK
Chapter 2: Stacks on me, Patron on Ice
“Mina!”
She turned and searched the crowd for the source of the voice. “Makoto! You made it!” She pushed through the crowded gallery; nearly knocking herself out of her new gold gladiator boots, and wrapped her friend in an ecstatic hug. “And Noah!” She turned to the tall, dark-haired man and redoubled her hug efforts. “I haven’t seen you in forever! Where’s the baby?”
“We got a babysitter for the weekend!” Noah said. “Otherwise known as my parents, who are probably regretting that decision right about…now.”
“Aja won’t change out of her Tinkerbell costume and she cut her own bangs with a pair of safety scissors.” Makoto explained, linking her arm around her husband’s. “I know Noah’s mom wanted to take her to the country club and show her off to all her lady friends that lunch, but that costume’s getting tattered as hell and she’ll only eat foods that are yellow right now. And we think that somehow she picked up a swear word, but she only says it when we’re not really listening so we can’t bust her properly.”
Mina shot a look to Noah. “What? I can’t help it that she listens when I watch football. Anyway, it should make for an interesting weekend. Twenty bucks says she drops it in right after my mother forces her to eat watercress sandwiches.” He kissed the top of his wife’s curly head. “We only get to have grown-up fun once in a while. Ah, alcohol!” He deftly nabbed a passing waiter with a tray full of wine glasses.
“And you decided to come to my show, instead of like, you know, staying home and having sex! You guys are the best!”
“Nice dress!” Makoto held Mina at arm’s length and forced her to twirl. “Is this new?”
“Of course!” The money from Darien and Victory had been burning a crater in her imaginary pocket since the transfer went through. After a chunk of it had gone to student loans, and another as an advance on next month’s rent, and finally, repayment to a few friends that she owed money to, she pulled some out and came home loaded with shopping bags. “Nanette Lapore! Do you think the color is too, like, loud?”
“What, turquoise? Nah.”
“So, any word from…?” Makoto let the question trail while Noah examined a painting covered in LED lights.
It felt like a sock to the gut. “Not exactly. He hasn’t moved the painting yet, and when I called him the other day, he didn’t pick up. I think he’s out of town.” She smiled suddenly. “Whatever! Let’s have some drinks and some fun and hopefully I’ll sell some of these pieces to people who aren’t my close personal friends and family. I’m totally feeling these boots, too. These are sex boots.”
“Yeah, I really didn’t want to hear that.” Jason, proving that he hadn’t matured past the eighth grade, deadlegged his sister as he rolled an amp across the floor. “Where am I setting up?” He spotted Noah and pulled the other man into a man-hug. “Noah! Where you been, man?”
“Work, family, rinse, repeat. Hey, are you going to join our basketball league? I need a point that can actually handle the ball.”
“Oh shit, you know I’m good at handling balls.”
“Corner, please,” Mina said, kicking Jason away. “And hurry up, it’s starting to get crowded.” More people had filtered in; the usual Friday night art crowd that would drink the free wine and hold pretentious conversations about every piece before leaving for the clubs without purchasing anything. She was sharing the opening with a few other artists, and the one who had created abstract sculpture out of chicken wire and surgical tubing was attracting a rather interesting mix of people.
“Darien coming?” Noah asked.
“God, it seems like everyone knows Darien. And I don’t think so; he was taking his wife on vacation to Mexico for a few weeks.”
“He’s married! Get out.”
“He has been for awhile. I haven’t met his wife yet; apparently she’s some socialite who writes children’s books about moon bunnies or something. I’ve seen pictures.”
Raye suddenly appeared at her elbow, wearing a black bandage dress and sky-high stilettos, and looking absolutely smashing. “What’s up, guys?”
Makoto pulled her into a hug. “Please tell me it is work and not my pastry fuckups that have been keeping you away.”
“It’s work,” Raye laughed, and gave Noah a peck on the cheek in greeting. “You know I love to eat your fuckups. How and where is Aja?”
Instead of responding, Makoto’s mouth dropped. She shot out one hand and grabbed Mina’s elbow, and spun the blond around so fast that again, she nearly ate shit in her new shoes.
“Mina,” she breathed. Next to them, Raye let out a quick gasp.
“What are you guys looking at?” Noah asked, clueless.
Mina’s eyes were locked on the line coming in the door.
*******************************************************************
For probably the fourth time since exiting the car, walking the twenty feet from the sidewalk to the gallery entrance, and stepping in line behind the guy with the twelve-inch, green Mohawk, Kevin wondered what had possessed him to a) wear a suit to an exhibit opening that had a picture of a human-eyed pug dog on the invitation and b) show up in the first place unironically.
The answer for both: Mina. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her.
He spotted her over the top of Mohawk, huddled with the girl from the coffee shop and a few others, her blond hair spilling in waves over her turquoise dress that was very, very short, and outrageous footwear that was partway between a boot and a sandal. The room’s ambient noise filtered away, as did the crazily dressed crowd of pretentious art patrons, and only she existed amongst the chaos and noise. His heart had leapt when he found the invitation to her opening in the pile of mail that was waiting for him when he had returned from Hong Kong. He had remembered the way her blue eyes teased him from behind his glasses lenses at the coffee shop, and immediately blocked off time in his calendar.
She ran up to him, practically skidding to a stop. “Kevin! Hi! You made it!”
“Hey, yeah, thanks.” He said, returning the stare of a skinny guy in a full-length Neo coat that was eyeing him up. “I’m sorry I didn’t RSVP, but I was out of the country.”
“No worries.” God, her smile was brilliant. “Let me introduce you to some friends of mine. You already know Makoto.”
“Hi again,” Makoto leaned in. “This is Noah, my husband.”
“What’s up, man?” Noah shook his hand.
“What’s up. Kevin.”
Mina pulled a black-haired girl forward. “This is Raye, my roommate. Raye, this is Kevin Chaston, the new owner of Victory.”
Raye smiled and shook his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Hey!” Jason suddenly appeared and wound an arm protectively around Raye’s waist. “What’s going on, bro? Nice suit!”
“Thank you.”
“I really mean it too,” Jason continued. “You look sharp, I have a real appreciation for dressing nice. See, well, I’m a graphic designer, and since I do all of my work from my home office, formal wear for me is like, putting on clean boxers when the old ones start to smell like ball sweat.”
Mina closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Kevin, unfortunately this is my brother. Jason, this is Kevin Chaston.”
“Oh you’re the guy who bought her massive-assed painting!” Jason blurted. “Shit, man, where the hell are you going to put that thing? That thing needs a fucking airplane hangar or something.”
“Jason!” Mina and Raye said simultaneously. Mina continued with her thought. “Shut up and go play music.”
“OK, fine. Good to meet you Kevin.”
“You, too.” He was hyperaware of Mina’s hand on his arm.
“Want to check out some exhibits?” She asked, as Jason set up audio equipment across the room.
“Sure.”
“What do you think? Hot, yeah?”
“What do you mean, what do I think?” Noah shifted uncomfortably and took a drink. “I don’t feel sufficiently qualified to judge whether another guy is hot or not.”
“Not you!” Raye hit him lightly on the sleeve. “I was talking to Makoto.”
Makoto reached up and covered her husband’s ears with her hands. “Very. But not really Mina’s type, don’t you think?”
“Oh please, her type has been stupid, emotionally-parasitic, scenester losers who wouldn’t hand her a band-aid if she broke her leg. This guy is obviously into her, I mean, I don’t think he’s that into art, but he came and uh, he’s not exactly dressed for the occasion.” They paused and watched a girl pass by wearing a clear plastic raincoat and an orange spandex bodysuit.
“Aw, look.” Makoto pointed to the couple across the room, standing in front of some sort of water sculpture. “She’s introducing him to bad art.”
“It’s not all bad,” Raye commented, taking a swallow of her wine and. “Mina’s been into a lot of charcoal right now, and some is actually palatable, and that one guy has some good photographs, but yeah, I’ll agree, that one is pretty bad. You can tell from here that it’s mostly PVC piping and desperation.”
“Can I listen now?” Noah asked. “Would you like a guy’s opinion?”
“Yes, dear.” Makoto smiled.
“He’s obviously out of his comfort zone, it doesn’t look like he’ll fit in with this crowd, and he bought her painting that’s the size of a Jumbotron and cost more than most cars. He wants it so bad.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Raye said, watching her friend laugh and touched her companion’s arm. “Oh God, I’m going to have to break the news to Jason that his sister may become sexually active again very soon. Give me another drink.”
“Oh, this one is mine,” Mina said, biting her lip. Her anxiety had increased from “a few deep breaths” level to “popping Valium like Tic Tacs” every minute that she spent in close proximity to Kevin. “Twenty bucks if you can tell what it is.”
Kevin half-smiled as he leaned in closer to the picture. “I’m guessing it’s…the ocean?” Mina grinned and shook her head. “A lake? River? It’s some type of body of water. Am I getting close?”
She scrunched her nose. “Not really. Would you like another guess?”
“Please.”
“OK.”
He thought a moment. “Wind? Smoke?”
She shook her head again, biting her lip to keep from laughing. Kevin could not imagine anyone more beautiful that this girl, at this moment. “I’m not even close, am I? You’re going to have to tell me.”
“It’s anger,” she said, pointing. “See all the faces I put in the bends? It’s supposed to represent that physical feeling you get when anger is taking you over and you’re just about to do something crazy.”
“I see it now.” They moved to another exhibit. “This one’s yours, too.”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder, hoping that she was exposing her bare shoulder appealingly without looking like she was trying too hard. “Would you like to take a guess at this one, too?”
Kevin leaned down towards her exposed shoulder, and Mina closed her eyes softly as his breath tickled her ear. “Only if we up the wager.”
In the background, Jason started playing his guitar, with another guy slowly singing along into the microphone.
“I’m OK with that,” she replied. “You already owe me twenty bucks.”
He leaned closer to whisper. “If I guess right, you let me take you to dinner.”
Something in Mina’s chest thrummed like Jason’s guitar strings. “I don’t really have any incentive to lose this.”
“If I guess wrong you give me my twenty back.”
“I can live with that.” She opened her eyes. “I’m warning you, I was feeling especially creative with this one.”
He was quiet for a few moments. “There are a lot of lines in it.”
“Hundreds. It took me a while.”
“If I had to guess, I would say that you were feeling intensely negative,” he said. “And everything is straight lines and angles, so it wasn’t a good feeling, because all of your other works have a lot of curves, and I think you’re a generally happy person.”
“You haven’t made a guess yet.”
Kevin smiled, and it reached to his dark gray eyes. “This is jealousy.”
Her mouth dropped. “How do you know?”
“With all the time it took for you to complete, I’m assumed that you wanted to take your mind off of something.”
Mina shut her eyes to the room and the noise and went back in time, remembering the rain that pounded on the windowsill that day while she methodically sketched those hundreds of lines, and the din of the weather and the formation of lines on paper was ineffective at erasing the picture of Casey and his new girlfriend having lunch together on the sidewalk, smiling and kissing in between bites of chicken salad. “Good guess. You’re right. You must be really good at reading people.”
“That and I read the card next to it.” Sure enough, in neat typeface, were the words: “Jealousy. Ink on paper. Mina Aino. $250.”
“Cheater. No deal.”
“Hey!” Suddenly Jesse was between them, throwing his arms around Mina. “Darling, someone just bought your paper collage! And I think this person can actually pay.” He plunked his fedora on her head and turned to Kevin. “I’m sorry, love, I have to borrow your sweetheart for a moment.”
“Jesse!” Mina’s scalp was starting to burn with heat.
“Oh, you’ll only be a few minutes.” He turned again to Kevin, completely obliterating the other man’s view of Mina. “But please, check out some of our other exhibits! We’ve got some really provocative works that are really it right now.”
“Provocative is his code word for tasteless!” Mina called over her shoulder as she was led away.
Kevin continued to stare at the lines of Mina’s jealousy when he felt the presence of someone at his elbow. It was Raye, the roommate, wearing all black to match her ebony hair, and sipping a full glass of champagne. “Like it?” she asked, pointing at the drawing.
“Not bad.”
“You should have seen all the drama that went into it,” Raye said. “That was a particularly low period for her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah,” Raye said, giving him a sideways glance that was so sharp it practically cut. “I wouldn’t want that to start again.”
The new buyer wasted a good half hour of time Mina could have been using to seduce Kevin with her new sex boots, and was stuck instead listening to the woman ramble on about her redecorating plans for a condo she had just bought on the east side. Fishbowls and free form sculpture. It sounded hideous, but she paid cash, so Mina nodded and agreed that yes, replacing the bed and all chairs in the house with hammocks was a great idea. She would love to come and check it out sometime, and maybe take a look at the screenplay that the buyer was in the process of writing.
Finally, she was released back into the wild, and searched frantically for the familiar face. She found Makoto and Noah in a corner, their heads bent at different angles as they tried to decipher what exactly they were looking at.
Makoto’s face was screwed up in disgust. “Is this…is this thing real?” she asked, her voice high and tight and very scared.
Mina didn’t even give the two-headed fetus in the jar a second glance. “Silicone and rubber suspended in acetone. And if it doesn’t disappear tonight, I’m going to throw it in a dumpster and say a protester did it.”
Noah took a long swallow from his glass. “I think it would be even more tasteless if it was real.”
“They’re asking eight hundred dollars for it.”
“Gah! Throw it in the dumpster! Save humanity!”
“Don’t go to this chick’s gallery; you’ll never eat again. Anyone seen Kevin?” She couldn’t believe that she couldn’t find him; not only was he probably the tallest person in the gallery, he stuck out like a Secret Service agent at a Grateful Dead concert.
“I was just talking to him!” Noah was suddenly all smiles again. “Good guy. I think I got him to join our basketball league! We’ll finally have a center that can dunk.”
“Congratulations.” She scanned the room again, and spotted Kevin off to the side talking with Jesse. If she didn’t act, and quickly, there was no telling what would happen.
“Excuse me.”
Jesse had his hand on Kevin’s arm when she approached. “So, where’s your work?” he asked the much taller man.
Kevin shifted a little. “I’m not an artist.”
“You’re NOT!” Jesse threw his head back. “I could have sworn—it’s because you just have such style, you know, I thought you could be one of the exhibitors. The one who makes those really masculine etchings on bronze.”
“No, I actually can’t even draw a straight line. And you’ve met me before, at the gallery.”
“Oh,” Jesse said, giving him a sideways, teasing glance. Mina nearly broke her neck rolling her eyes. “I thought you might be a much more...creative type.” One finger ran down the length of Kevin’s sleeve.
“OK, that’s enough, thanks for keeping him company, Jesse.” Mina shoved herself between the two men. “Can you go round everyone up? I think we’re leaving soon.”
Jesse adjusted the scarf he was wearing and flashed a toothy smile at Kevin. “I hope you’ll join us. Mina, invite him.”
“Of course.”
Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Did I just get hit on?”
“Um, yeah, actually. Jesse still thinks that you’re repressing your true sexuality because…” she let her voice trail away.
“Because?”
“Because you dress so nice.”
He laughed softly as the twelve-inch green Mohawk passed by arm in arm with the girl in the plastic raincoat. Mina joined in, and they spent a few pleasant moments giggling together.
Raye seemed to materialize in a flash of black fabric and red lips. “We’re taking off and going to Cryo. Are you two coming?”
“Are you coming?” Mina asked, hopeful.
“Oh my God. They are friends now. They are like, best friends.”
Mina giggled and laid her head on Jesse’s shoulder as they watched Kevin and Noah talking together on the leather couches. Every few minutes Noah pantomimed shooting a basketball. Jason sat on the other side, on his fifth vodka on the rocks and getting rather sloppy.
“BFFs,” Raye chimed in. “Anyone want another drink?”
Mina held up her empty glass. “Me.”
“Me too,” Makoto said, reaching for her purse. Raye waved it off.
“Don’t worry about it, Kevin opened a tab.”
“Oooh,” Mina said. She and Makoto exchanged glances and started laughing again.
“Yeah I know. That’s why they’re over there drinking hundred dollar vodka made from pineapples or something.” Raye didn’t mention that Kevin had passed a hundred to the bouncer to let them bypass the line, which wasn’t short, or that he had opened the bar tab with a black American Express card, or that probably from the combination of those factors got them into the VIP area, which sent Jesse practically into spasms. In actuality, it was just less crowded than the regular area, and very tackily decorated.
“I want to kiss him,” Mina admitted. The alcohol was starting to turn her head fuzzy, but he looked so good, dressed in a suit, and the way his pale eyebrows knitted together as Jason tried to debate with him about something most likely sports-related was incredibly sexy. She wanted to go over to him, pull the collar of his shirt away from his neck and plant her lips on the warmth of his skin, trace his jawline with her lips, nip at his earlobe.
Mina never thought she would feel that way about someone that perhaps a year ago would have laughed off as a repressed yuppie.
Jesse sniffed. “Honey, join the club. But I think tonight you have a much better chance than I do.”
Makoto pulled herself up and gripped one of the brass poles that the club had decided to install. “What is it with stripper poles? Why is everyone putting in stripper poles? When did this become trendy?”
“Don’t knock it, honey, we used to be pretty good on these poles,” Raye admitted. “Well, I was pretty good on the poles; you two were just background hoochies.”
Mina started. “Oh, bull! I was just as good! You were just more flexible!”
“I was flexible,” Makoto commented mildly.
“No, you were strong, not flexible. And I definitely the best dancer!”
“Dance-off!” Jesse shouted, clapping his hands. “Come on, girls, show me you still have it!”
“I can’t!” Makoto protested. “I had a baby! My center of gravity is all messed up now.”
“Please, sweetie, that’s bullshit. Do you know how many dancers have kids?”
Mina jumped up and put her drink down. “It’s on now.” Gripping with her hands and knees, she did a slow spin to the floor.
Raye was fired up. “Rookie. Let me show you how it’s done.” She adjusted the hemline on her dress, grateful that the bandage style was tight enough to cling to her body without riding up. She swung her body up, wound her legs around the pole, and slid headfirst to the floor, her body stretched out to its full length.
Across the room, Jason noticed Kevin watching the women out of the corner of his eye. He cleared his throat. “OK, just to set the record straight, they used to be burlesque dancers. Not strippers. There were no dollar bills or nudity or anything.”
Kevin, to his credit, didn’t change his expression.
“Yeah, so like, don’t get the wrong impression.” His face was dark. “It wasn’t anything probably like what you’re thinking. And they gave it up a while ago, for the record.”
Kevin didn’t look away. “Really,” he lied. “I didn’t know that.”
Mina waved as the taxi pulled away with Makoto and Noah, the latter probably happier at getting Kevin’s phone number and promise that he would join their basketball league in the upcoming weeks than spending an evening out with his wife. Makoto took it in stride, though, after Kevin cleared the tab without the knowledge or permission of the group. She promised him free coffee for life.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” she murmured to him as they stood outside of the club. The street was dark and wet, and the streetlights reflected orange on the puddles on the ground. Raye and Jason were somewhere, trying to hail a club, and Jesse was talking to some people he knew and having a cigarette under the damp awning.
“Of course.” Kevin pulled one hand through his hair. “I have to leave tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She didn’t even try to hide the disappointment in her voice. “Where are you going?”
“London. I’m, uh, going to be there for a couple of weeks.”
Mina stared the pavement. Well, that just wasn’t fucking fair. Just when they were starting to…start.
“But I you owe me something when I get back.”
She looked up. “Do I?”
“I won our bet. You have to come to dinner with me.”
“OK.” She tried to shrug a shoulder out of her dress again to seal the deal. Their eyes locked again, hers wide and blue underneath dark lashes, her makeup smudging a little at the corners, and his dark gray and penetrating. Mina couldn’t breathe or think, she simply stopped, and watched his eyes shine at her under the wet night.
“Mina!” Raye yelled, erupting the moment, while she and Jason climbed into an empty cab. “You coming?”
She turned back to Kevin. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to, um.”
“It’s all right.” He fumbled in his pocket, seeming to search for something, although Mina had never seen him do this action before. He always knew where everything was placed. “I’ll contact you when I’m back from London. Would that be all right?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, breathless.
Jason was getting impatient. “MINA!”
“I’m coming!” she yelled back, and turned back to Kevin. “Sorry, I, uh. I-I, I’m…”
Gently, he took her face in his hands, warm against her skin, and gently brushed her bangs away from her nose before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. She let her eyelids fall and let herself dissolve in the warm heat and soft pressure, trying to memorize every soft touch, every tiny moment so she could replay it later, and feel it all over again.
It was over in seconds. She would remember it for her lifetime.
“Goodbye,” she murmured, shyly backing away until she hit the curb and climbed into the cab after her brother.
“Bye.” Kevin didn’t think anyone was around to hear him, until a plume of smoke hit the side of his face. Jesse pushed his hat back and sighed.
“Congratulations. She’s a masterpiece.”
“I know,” he said softly, her scent of sugared fruit still wrapped around him like a trail of heat from a mirage. He turned to the other man. “Need a ride home?”
Jesse elaborately flipped his cigarette butt over his shoulder. “Oh, honey, I thought you’d never ask!”
She did hear from him sooner than expected. A lazy Thursday passed while she sketched another stupid dog picture for another commission, this one in a six foot square of a sharpei, and that evening Raye knocked when she came home from work, holding out a flat FedEx package.
“For you,” she said, her suit coat unbuttoned. Mina felt slightly guilty for spending the entire day in her uniform of a tank top and panties, her hair messily piled on top of her head. She reached for a box cutter and slit the package open.
Inside was a single sheet of paper, with a pastel sketch of a fountain, somewhere on a city street, with three figures burning in bright orange flames. The street artist had named and signed his work on the bottom, and a yellow post it note dangled off the page with small, neat writing jotted across it.
Raye was a faster reader. “Aw.”
Mina felt her face smile with no help from her brain. The note read:
“Your Jealousy is better than this guy’s Jealousy. –Kevin”
London was pretty routine by now. Kevin had spent thirteen hours a day working with very little downtime, the projects seeming to pile up faster than his team could complete them, and a distinct lack of communication with some partners that had more to do with old politics than current standing, a slight relief if it wasn’t so fuck-off annoying. So with this day off, the night before he left, he threw caution to damp, foggy, English wind, ordered a pizza, and climbed in the shower with a bottle of beer. Makoto’s husband, Noah, had enlightened Kevin to the simple pleasure of sucking down a cold one while in the shower, and this new discovery seemed to melt all the stress away with every blissful sip. He wondered why no one had told him about this sooner, or better yet, why he hadn’t made this discovery on his own.
Of course, he had passed on this sage advice to an intimate group of associates. Darien had suggested adding masturbation into the mix to maximize the pleasure effects, but he wasn’t too keen on losing focus and dropping a glass bottle into a porcelain tub from six feet up while his brain was on autopilot. It would be too embarrassing to explain to the paramedics.
No, he preferred to “lose focus” at night, when he could lay back and think about Mina, her blonde hair and bright smile, more so the memory of her the morning of the coffee shop with his glasses perched on her nose than when they had first met, in black lingerie and the capture of night.
He would be returning to her proximity in the next day. He needed to talk to Zach.
Zach would be awake this time of night, most likely hammering away at some column or blog post, and when he popped up on the screen of Kevin’s laptop, his assumptions were proven correct.
“Hey!” Zach’s blonde curls were sticking up in a messy, uneven Jewfro, his glasses were crooked, but the young journalist looked far from fatigued as he shoved takeout boxes away from the view of the webcam. “What’s going on, bro? Still in London?”
Kevin sighed and leaned back on the sofa, smiling and rubbing his eyes. “Yeah. Don’t you wish you were here, too?”
“Let me think about that. Do I wish that I were still trying to commit suicide by workload, popping pills to stay awake and practically freebasing caffeine, gelling down my glorious fro every morning and stuffing myself into a suit and tie to conform to some retarded Western mentality that I’m worthless unless I’m making shareholders and executives obscenely wealthy, and driving a Ferrari and snorting assloads of cocaine to deal with the crushing loneliness from lack of meaningful human contact and relationships in exchange for my very soul?
I’ll stick to bitching over the print media and enlightening my dedicated online readers to the latest in environmental politics, thank you. All six of them. Wait, five. One was just carted off to the nuthouse.”
Kevin paused. “I don’t do cocaine.”
“Nor do you have a fro, my friend, which makes the decision to stay in the rat race easier for you. Me, I have discovered that living off my savings and doing what I love, which is bitching at things and not washing my dishes, have brought me more happiness that taming my hair and breaking the souls of lesser beings ever has. I even traded in the Maserati for a Prius hybrid. Makes it easier when I go through the drive-thru. Less stares.”
“Never change, Zach.”
“Besides my career, I won’t. Now what’s up? Need me to crunch some numbers again?”
“No. Just wanted to talk.”
Zach gave him a peculiar look. “You never just want to talk. Is it that artist girl?”
Kevin grunted. Across the ocean, Zach let out a shout and slammed his palm on the desk, knocking balled papers and napkins to the floor. “Wow, she’s got you hooked, bro. I need to see this girl for myself, make sure she’s good enough for you.”
“She is,” Kevin said, perhaps a little too quickly.
“So, what’s the big deal? Just give her a call when you get in, make a date, and take her to a ball game or something. I’ll even give you some of my season tickets if you promise to not get anything on the seats that I might stick to later.”
Ball game. Ball. “Oh crap,” Kevin muttered under his breath. “The Red Ball. I forgot all about it.”
Zach sniggered. “Are you serious? How? Your sister chairs the damn thing!”
Kevin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You think it would be too weird if I, you know, asked her to go with me?”
Zach was quiet for a moment in thought. “Hey, if she’s as cool and special as you say she is, then I’m sure she’d be OK with it. But promise to take her on an actual, real date afterwards so that the weirdness factor is reduced a little. In fact, call her right now while you’re online with me so I can listen. I’ll be quiet.”
“Zach, we’re not in high school.”
“Whatever, you’re the one that called me in the middle of the night to get advice on asking a girl to the movies, loser. Come on, call her. She won’t even know I’m here.”
Kevin chuckled and popped open another beer. “Thanks Zach. I think I will call her.”
“In the meantime, I’ll help. Can I google her?”
“No. Don’t google her.”
“Brah, you know you want me to google her. You probably already have.”
“I haven’t.”
“Liar. Here, I’ll do it right now.”
“Don’t google her!”
“OK, OK. Shit. Don’t get so worked up; she’s probably done it to you already.”
“Zach.”
“Fine! Good luck. If all goes well, the next mission we undertake could be getting me laid. I think my dick’s going to break off soon if I don’t use it properly.”
“Well, then, you shouldn’t have traded in the Maserati, idiot.”
It was early morning when her phone rang, and Mina was still asleep, dreaming of chiseled cheekbones and soft lips. The cat hissed as the phone starting beeping and leapt off the bed and into the overstuffed closet.
“Unknown number,” she muttered to herself. Holding back a huge yawn, she flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Hello, Mina.” She smiled, suddenly wide awake, as she recognized the voice.
“HEY!” she shouted accidentally. “How’s London? Are you back in town? Oh, by the way, I got the picture you sent me, and you’re right, the guy had some inspiration but the execution was really sloppy, I could see the sketch underneath the pastel, he didn’t remove all of it…”
“I’m glad you liked it. Or didn’t like it, I guess.”
“I liked the thought,” she said. “I guess that means you were thinking about me in London.”
He laughed softly at her flirting. “I was. Uh, in fact, you were the first person that came to mind when I realized I have a favor to ask.”
“What kind of favor?” I hope it’s not too weird.
“Well, the black tie kind.”
“Red Ball? You mean, the annual charity Red Ball, right?”
Mina grunted an affirmation as she dug through the dark recesses of Raye’s closet, flinging away hangers full of Ann Taylor work-y looking clothes. “Did you ever have to go?”
Raye curled her legs underneath her on the bed. “Once, when I was dating that guy from the city council, but that was a long time ago and there’s a new board of directors chairing it. I heard they really turned it around.”
“Yeah, one of the chairs is his sister,” Mina said. She pulled out a Chinese red sheath and held it up to her body. “Too obvious?”
“Yes, and that’s a summer dress, and very not your color. You have to go more formal.”
“Ugh. Why can’t people raise money for genetic research in normal clothes? If they have to buy formal wear, then that’s just less money that they have to donate, and that’s less research that gets done and less rare genetic diseases they can cure.” Actually, she had no idea how the whole thing worked; she just desperately hoped there were no collection baskets or anything that would put her on the spot.
“Mina, I don’t think money is a problem for the people that go to these kind of events. I wore an off-the-rack BCBG and it felt like I showed up in sweatpants.”
Mina threw another dress to the ground and flopped on the bed next to Raye. “God, why am I going to this? For one thing, I don’t know anyone besides Kevin, I don’t know what to wear, I don’t do high society, I can’t make small talk with rich old people, and God, I’m going to stick out like a rancid, infected thumb. Why can’t we just say ‘screw it’ and go to a movie or something?”
Raye sighed. “Well, for one, I think it’s going to be mostly rich young people.”
“Wonderful. I’m going to be surrounded by ex-college Republicans. Wait until they find out about those anti-capitalism pieces I made back in the day.”
“Think about it this way. He’s probably locked into this; do you want him going with another woman as his date?”
Mina’s eyes popped open. “Dear Christ, no.”
“And he seems like a good guy. Do you think he’ll leave you to the wolves?”
“No, not really.”
“And if he does get pulled away, you can excuse yourself and go through his car and find out just how much frigging money he has. Good God, he picked up our entire bar tab and has his own driver! Let’s google him.”
“What?”
Raye’s face was lit up with mania. “Google. Let’s google him. Make sure he’s not part of some sketchy hedge fund shit or owns sweatshops in Cambodia or has ex-wives and a bunch of illegitimate kids.”
“Raye, he doesn’t. I’ve already googled him and there’s nothing but boring business stuff. He doesn’t even have Facebook.”
Raye looked a little disappointed. “Oh. Well, good, then.”
Mina stood and continued her exhausting search through Raye’s closet, somewhat amazed that someone with such an organized professional life would have such a hellhole cave of a closet in her room, and wondered if Raye had her own baby clothes stashed in the back. “Oh, look, I think I found your off-the-rack BCBG.” She pulled it out. “It’s not sweatpants, you drama queen. It’s not bad.” Actually, Mina thought it was rather stylish for being a few years old. The spaghetti straps were a little dated, and the ribbon sash could definitely go, but the cut was great, long and lean with movement at the hem, and a deep blue color that reminded her of…
She had a vision: adjusting the straps and neckline, ditching the ribbon, pulling up the hem into a slit. “Got some scissors? This off-the-rack is not going to be staying that way.”
“Raye,” Mina whined. “It’s not working.”
Raye pulled an elastic band off of her wrist and tied her black hair back hastily. “I’m going with Plan B. Curling iron and hairspray. We’re going prom hair here; we’re going Miss America. I’m not fucking around anymore.”
“Oh, please don’t give me Miss America hair!”
Jason entered the kitchen, intent on procuring another beer to get him through the White Sox shitting it up in extra innings, and stopped when he saw his girlfriend and sister at the table with some sort of medieval apparatus that involved heat and rollers, and Mina’s hair tangled around it. “You guys need help?”
Raye leaned over and pecked him on the lips. “You’re sweet for offering, but this fight is between me and your sister’s hair. I can’t afford civilian casualties.”
He twisted the top off his bottle and leaned against the counter. “What time is this guy coming over?”
“Don’t ask that question, because we don’t want to know the answer.” Mina squirmed miserably in the hard kitchen chair, wearing nothing but a thin cotton robe. “Because the answer is probably pretty freaking soon, and my hair still won’t curl the right way, and I cut my leg shaving before because I was rushed and I can’t afford any more accidents.”
“That’s negative thinking,” Raye interrupted, plugging in the curling iron. “No negative thinking. Negative thinking leads to ugly hair and universal scorn.”
Mina peeked out from her crown of curlers and gave her best pathetic face to her older brother. “Actually, can you do me a favor?”
“As long as it’s not messing around with hair or makeup, I can.”
“If Kevin gets here and I’m not ready, which very well may happen, and that’s not negative thinking Raye, that’s reality, can you like, distract him for a little while?”
Jason took a long swallow. “I guess,” he said grudgingly, like his sister had just asked for a fresh kidney that he would have to retrieve himself.
She frowned, and a lock of blond hair boinked out of its curler and fell down her face. “Wait, wait, what’s with the attitude? You liked Kevin well enough when he was picking up your bar tab and pretending to listen to all your fantasy baseball crap.”
“That was when he was a potential new brodude to chill with, and not some guy who is trying to nail my sister.”
Raye rolled her eyes. “Jason.”
“He does have an awesome car, though.” He shrugged and made his retreat back to the couch. “You could do worse, Mina.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“Just make sure you keep your purse zipped, if you know what I mean.”
“God, you’re disgusting! Raye, you’re actually in a relationship with this guy?”
Raye was nothing if not persistent; her next attempt at keeping Mina’s long blonde hair curled neatly was high heat and some sort of clear goo. Mina’s scalp was starting to ache. “Can you help me paste my bra on?”
Raye sighed. “Those are some words I’d thought I’d never hear again.”
“Get over it, I’ve done it to you plenty of times!”
Five minutes later: “Screw it, this thing isn’t sticking. How badly do you pop out?”
Mina was on the verge of panic. “Pretty damn bad. Do we have any tape?”
Jason was in the middle of cursing out the relief pitcher who had just loaded the bases when there was a knock at the door. “Kevin, is that you?”
“Yes,” came the muffled voice from the hallway.
“Hold on a second.” With some maneuvering, he skirted over to the door without taking his eyes off of the TV. He opened it just as the pitcher wound up. The pitch was thrown: ball three. “Oh my God, if you fuck this up you piece of shit…”
Kevin stood in the hallway wearing a tuxedo and a puzzled expression. “Are you talking to me, or to Blanchard?”
“Blanchard. Fucking rookie just loaded the bases and Guillen won’t pull him. I’m about to kick the TV in. Want a beer?”
Kevin checked his watch as he sat next to Jason on the couch. “Is Mina going to be awhile?”
As an answer to his question, Raye suddenly burst out of Mina’s room yelling about super glue and double sided tape, and stomped into the kitchen and began yanking open drawers. “Let me get you that beer,” Jason said, standing.
The relief pitcher was pulled before the next pitch, and the new pitcher started warming up in the bullpen. “Thank fuck.” Jason breathed, taking another swallow and watching the other man out of the corner of his eye. Kevin had gone Windsor knot and zero embellishment instead of the goofy bow tie and cummerbund, looking more like a secret agent instead of high-class waiter. Jason couldn’t resist asking. “Do you like going to this kind of stuff?”
“Charity balls? Are you kidding?” He gestured at the TV with the neck of his beer bottle. “Come on, man, the game’s on. I’m only going because of my sister.”
“Hell, I know what that’s like. MINA!” He suddenly screamed. If Kevin were a more nervous person, he would have jumped and spilled his beer onto his crotch. “What’s taking you so long?”
Her voice was muffled behind her bedroom door. “I’m almost ready, you jerk! Stop yelling at me!”
They settled back in, waiting for the new relief to take the field. Jason was still curious. “What about your job?”
“My job?”
“Yeah, do you like it? I mean, you spent probably about eighty hours a week at it, right?”
“Not that much. Anymore.” He thought for a moment. “I do. I like it. I wouldn’t do anything else. Although—“
“Huh?”
Kevin gave him a short, sideways glance. “Although, you get to spent your entire day in your drawers. I can’t imagine a better life.”
“True that.” He and Kevin clinked their glasses as the Sox took the field. “And sometimes Raye comes home during the middle of the day and—finally! You took all that time to get dressed as a peacock?”
For probably the millionth time in her life, Mina wondered why she had been cursed with such an idiot brother. She and Raye had abandoned the entire idea of putting her hair up, there being simply too much of it, and let it hang loose in waves. Raye’s dress was completely modified: Makoto had helped them pull off the spaghetti straps and cut the sash into new, wider straps that they formed into a halter style around her neck. They had pulled off the embellishments on the bodice and covered it instead with peacock feathers, which is the first thing Mina’s mind had gone to when she pulled the gown out of Raye’s closet.
Right now, she was flushing under her makeup and wishing that a ceiling beam would fall down spontaneously and knock her brother out. Secondly, that Kevin looked very, very good in a tuxedo. And she was dressed as a peacock.
“So, what is this?” Mina hadn’t stopped rubbing her hand against her seat’s leather, too afraid to touch any of the knobs or gizmos in the interior lest she break something in this car that was undoubtedly worth more than her life’s worth, several times over. She had already pressed a button that she had thought was the window and had the Thievery Corporation start playing somewhere near her head.
Kevin smiled, and she knew that one already, it was the one that came out right before he told a joke. “That’s the passenger seat.”
“I know that,” she purred. “I meant the car. What is this?” Having no vehicle of her own, all Mina knew that it was small, and only fit two people, and looked very expensive and elegant and not at all like the beaters that usually parked on their street. Jason had made several painful whines of longing when he had seen it parked in front of the curb, and even Raye had stopped and stared, her eyes wide and her mouth open, and she wasn’t even that into cars.
For some reason, he was uncomfortable admitting it. “It’s a Lotus Evora.”
“Lo-tus. Pretty. Flower car,” she giggled. “I’d ask if I could drive it, but I can’t drive a stick shift.”
“I can teach you.” His arm was very near hers; he had looked directly in her eyes and told her she was beautiful after she had buckled her seatbelt.
Mina wished they could skip the whole middle part of this night and go right to the part where he would kiss her. Or the part where she would jump into his lap in this tiny car and tear her dress off and take him to heaven.
Instead, she took her eyes off of him and stared at her lap. “No way, I’ll destroy your car. Jason tried to teach me and I nearly killed his transmission, and that was on a fifteen-year old Honda that he bought off his friend for a thousand bucks. He nearly killed me for that.”
“Give me your hand.”
“Why?”
“Just give it to me.” They were stopped at a red light a few blocks from the Helix. Mina stuck her right hand out.
“Your other hand.” Kevin’s practically dwarfed her own, and she felt a prickle of heat rise from her chest to her neck. For a moment he held it, rubbing the ball of his thumb against the delicate underside of her wrist, and then lowered it on to the gearshift. “Ready?”
“Are you kidding? No! I’m going to kill your car somehow, I know it.”
“I’ll help you. Are you ready? The light’s about to turn green.”
“NO! Seriously, Kevin, I’m going to break your car and you’re going to hate me and I’ll have to sell a kidney or something to get it fixed. Seriously, no!”
Too late: the light turned green, and suddenly the car was accelerating, the engine revving up. He kept his hand pressed on hers as he downshifted. Mina was nervous enough to scream, or throw up. She wondered briefly if this was the same car that Darien had vomited in.
“Good, here we go again.” The gearshift was vibrating under her hand.
“Now you’re going to try on your own. Just bring it straight down when I say to, OK?”
“NO! No no no no no no don’t do that KEVIN!” His hand left hers. “OH MY GOD, you have to help me I’m really—“
“Now!”
She gasped and pulled the shaft down, a little too quickly, and the engine emitted a brief grinding noise. She shrieked and let go.
Kevin was unwisely watching her instead of the road as he laughed and grabbed her hand and repositioned it on the gearshift. She was laughing, too, her hair falling forward, almost hysterical. Her laughter was rapid and genuine, coming deep from her abdomen, and she leaned over with glee and gasped out: “Oh God! I told you I’d break it!”
It was at that moment, right before he had to break hard to avoid rear-ending a taxicab, when her eyes were shining and she laughed with total abandonment, that Kevin promised to do whatever it took to bring those moments of happiness to her again.
So they were back at the Helix, Mina noted nervously, back where they started, but this time she was here because he invited her, and wanted her here, and she wasn’t collecting a wad of cash at the end of this night, and she was wearing more than just lingerie and a trench coat.
However, she would be all right with taking her clothes off again at the end of the night. His, too.
There were some other people in formal wear milling around the hotel entrance; Mina stared at them through the car window, wondering what they were like, what they were wearing, and most importantly, if they were looking to buy some paintings.
Someone was knocking on the driver’s window before the car even came to a complete stop. Kevin cracked the window an inch and barked out: “Give me a minute, would you?”
At first, Mina was slightly distressed about the way he spoke to valets, but the eyes peering back from the open window crack were clear and blue, expertly painted with silver dust and black eyeliner and surrounded by lashes so long and dark they had to be falsies. Two sets of fingers wiggled in, and a high, girlish voice squeaked, “Shut up and get out of the car, you pain. Or at least open the window some more! Jeez!”
Kevin muttered something unintelligible about fingerprints and swung the door open, shoving aside the person on the other side. Mina’s door was opened by a valet, and when she looked over the roof of the car, she was greeted by a familiar face.
Oh, GOD no. “Darien?”
Darien’s grin was so wide and satisfied that he was almost splitting his face in half keeping it up. “Mina! Fancy meeting you here! I heard you sold that behemoth painting to some poor sucker…ah, look! Here’s the sucker himself.”
Kevin was reddening, which Mina found adorable. “Shut up,” he muttered.
“No worries, man, maybe you can cut it up into like, ten thousand little squares and use them as drink coasters or something. You actually got off easy; you should see the monstrosity I had to buy once. Actually, come to think about it, you have seen it. It’s in the second guest bathroom, right across from the toilet. The one that makes it hard to pee without thinking that the thing in the painting is going to magically jump out and hack you to death with an axe.”
Mina wished desperately that she had something heavier to throw full-force at Darien’s head than the tiny baguette bag that Makoto had loaned her. Maybe if she maneuvered the right way, she could get one of her shoes off…
Her murder plot was interrupted by an impossibly petite girl with hair so light it was practically silver rushing up to her, clicking in four-inch heels underneath her sequined silver sheath. Her hair was pinned up loosely, revealing the giant star cluster diamond earrings, and Mina was suddenly terribly aware that her own jewelry was bought at street fairs and probably made of glass and fishing wire. Her dress was beautiful: strapless, slim, adorned with thousands of glittering silver pearl beads, a stunning column that reminded Mina that the peacock feathers on her own gown was held on with hot glue. The small girl’s skin was so fresh and dewy that it seemed to sparkle pink and silver under the hotel lights, and her smile was wide and bright with genuine excitement as she grabbed Mina’s hand.
She was absolutely enchanting. There was something familiar about her face…
“OH! I love your dress!” The girl reached out unabashedly and brushed the feathers on Mina’s bodice, a diamond solitaire the size of a hailstone sitting on her fourth finger. “The color is absolutely amazing, I love the blue, it’s so good on you! Darien!” she called suddenly. “This is the color we should paint the guest bathroom!”
Darien sauntered over, the shit-eating grin having never left his face, with Kevin trailing behind. “I don’t know, dear, it may remind me of Mina standing there looking at me with criminal intent in her eyes. Mina, I don’t think you’ve met, but this is my wife, Serena. Serena, Mina’s a friend of mine from way back.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” the small girl—Serena—gushed, still clinging to Mina’s hand. “Really, my brother’s told me so much about you and I couldn’t wait to meet you in person! I saw your painting! It’s awesome!”
“Uh.” She could barely get that much out. Kevin came from behind her.
“That would be me.” He shrugged slightly, his face still red.
She couldn’t believe it. The guy she was obsessing over, the one who was currently and potentially very successfully getting under her skin and into her panties was indirectly related to Darien, and had been for some time. Darien, her friend for years, who knew everything about her past; including picking her up at late hours in sketchy places, whilst in different levels of intoxication, sometimes sobbing hysterically. Including the times when she was flat broke and her heat was shut off again and she was too ashamed to tell her family. Including paying her doctors’ bills when the aforementioned lack of heat would get her sick and she would have to go to the clinic with the transients and junkies in the middle of the night to get antibiotics.
Including the disaster that was Casey.
She straightened her spine. “Well, she made a better first impression than my brother.”
Serena smiled and linked arms with her. “You look fabulous! We’re going to have such a good time!”
The booze was good. Very, very good.
She was presently drilling her way through her third martini; the gin was so smooth that she probably could have chugged it like Kool-Aid, and she would have, too, just to deal with everyone staring at her.
It had started with Serena introducing her to the rest of the board, a cluster of women with smooth, straight hair and black Lanvin sheaths, wearing gemstones that were worth probably millions of dollars.
“Lovely gown,” one of them said to her, an older woman with a name like Wunny or Buffy or something. “Who is it?”
“Uh,” Mina stuttered. “It’s nothing. It was an old dress of my friend’s that I took apart.”
The Wunnys gave her short, condescending smiles, but Serena had squealed. “You made it? That’s so fabulous!” She turned to the women. “Mina is my brother’s girl. She’s an artist so she’s super-creative like that.”
They had all smiled and nodded, barely able to conceal their disdain, while Mina was internally dealing with the new feeling that Serena’s words had sent through her. “Mina is my brother’s girl.”
The second martini hadn’t taken away that feeling yet. Or the stares. The third was getting her there.
Kevin came up from behind her again without her knowing; he seemed to be very good at that. One of his hands rested on the small of her back; she shivered at the light touch. “Having fun?” he said in her ear.
“Uh,” she said through her smile. “I’m not really sure. How do you have fun at these things?”
“Easy. You just keep drinking until you forget that you’re here.”
“Oh, well then.” She held up her now-empty martini glass. “In that case, I’m having a fabulous time.”
“Good.” He bent slightly, and suddenly his face was against hers, and he was kissing her softly.
They broke apart. Mina’s heart was pounding so hard that it was practically constricting her throat. “Want another?” he asked.
“Kiss or drink?”
“I can do both.” He kissed her again, with more heat and pressure, and didn’t stop this time until someone cleared their throat behind them.
She pulled the olive out of her empty glass and held it up to his lips. “Like I said, fabulous time.”
True to form, it wasn’t long after being kissed by the object of her affection that Mina’s night started turning to shit.
For one, the booze was very, very good. A little too good. Her head was starting to spin, and her inhibitions were definitely down, beaten, and left for dead by her hormones. She had grabbed Kevin’s ass, which had startled him, and she had merely laughed in return. Every single thought that had floated through her mind for the past hour had been about how and when to fuck his brains out, and she was starting to sweat.
Secondly, she was beginning to molt. The heat from her increasingly intoxicated body and naturally occurring friction had rubbed some of the peacock feathers off. Darien helpfully pointed out just exactly where they were, noting gleefully that a great deal were stuck down Kevin’s front.
The third strike came near the end of the evening, after all the back-patting and congratulating and picture taking was going on. Mina was deftly avoiding the cameras now that her dress was pretty much destroyed, when an older man wearing a Penguin tuxedo leaned in over her shoulder, his breath full of whisky. “Nice tits,” he whispered, snaking one hand up and pinching her on the breast. “Would love to see them later.”
In any other room, in any other situation, she would have belted him without a second thought, but then the thought ran through her head: who and what this guy was. He could be the police commissioner, or a politician, maybe someone Raye worked with, maybe Kevin’s boss. The possibility of the old lech’s power terrified her; he was definitely somebody important, he could ruin lives, and she was a nobody. Just a pretty face attached to a pretty body.
Serena must have seen something, because she was at Mina’s side in a minute, elbowing the older man out of the way. “Are you OK?”
She was not OK: she was drunk, that was for sure, and tired, and humiliated, and scared. She was nobody.
But presently she was pale, and shaking a little, and close to tears. Serena barked out orders and pressed Mina’s borrowed purse to her and ushered her outside. Kevin’s forehead was furrowed with concern. “Mina, what happened? Are you all right?”
She took a deep breath. He looked furious. “I’m fine…I’m just tired.”
“You mean drunk,” Darien cackled. His wife cracked him on the arm with every ounce of strength in her tiny body. “Ow!”
“Do you want to leave?” Kevin asked, taking her face in his hands and lifting her chin so that she had to look into his eyes. She was afraid to look at him, so she lowered her eyes and nodded.
She barely spoke on the way home, afraid that whatever she wanted to say was wrong, and would just add to the tension. He pulled in front of her apartment. Mina noticed that the light was on in Jason’s workspace; he was probably still awake. Kevin exited the car before she did and opened her door.
“Mina.” She turned to him. “I don’t believe that you’re OK.”
“I very much am, I’m sorry.” He didn’t look like he believed her, either. “Please, I’m sorry, it’s nothing. I’m just acting like an idiot.”
“I don’t feel comfortable ending the night like this.”
He didn’t look comfortable either; she couldn’t leave him like this. “Can you come over tomorrow? Like, about seven?”
Kevin nodded. “I’ll be here.”
She managed a small smile. “You can dress down, too. Like, no neckwear, unless you really feel like it.”
“May I walk you upstairs?”
“No, it’s OK. My brother’s awake, anyway.” She brushed some errant feathers off of his front. “You can kiss me again, though.”
His hair was glowing silver under the sodium glare of the streetlights, and he was not gentle when he brought his face to hers. She pressed her body against his, which was hard pretty much everywhere except his lips. His hands brushed down her back, his fingers splayed. He broke away first, his gray eyes dark like chips of stone.
“If I don’t stop,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I won’t be able to.”
Mina brushed her thumb against his lips; he took her hand and kissed it. “I’ll be here at seven tomorrow. No neckwear.”
“I’ll see you then,” she responded, gathering her skirts. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
Jason was at his work station when she entered their apartment, clicking on dual monitors with ipod buds stuck in his ears. He pulled them out when he saw her press her back against the door and slide down to the floor, her head tucked down into her arms.
“Hey.” He was at her side in three strides. “Mina. What’s wrong?”
It all came out in an emotional geyser: the stares, the smirks, the helpless, lost, alienated feeling of total alienation in visiting a world so unlike her own. She purposely left out the part about the old guy groping her; there was no reason to start drama, and wake Raye up. “Jay, it was just weird. Like, any other girl would shave their head and crawl to date a guy like this, but the way he lives is just so different from where I live. I wasn’t comfortable the entire night.” She sighed. “OK, I lied. I had fun in the car when it was just him and me and he was letting me do the shifting…”
Jason sat down next to her. “Wow. He let you touch something in his car that’s not the seatbelt? Jesus.
Listen, did you feel weird because of Kevin, or because of other people? Because he can’t control other people, you know.”
“I know. And it wasn’t him, it was just like, what if that’s how his is, how he really is, and I just haven’t seen it yet?”
Jason ran his hands through his unruly blonde hair. “Really, Mina? Do you really believe that?”
She looked at the floor again. “No.”
“Well, then stop the neuroses, OK? You’re just dating a guy, one person, and not being formally introduced into high society. Just focus on that and block out all the other bullshit.”
Mina lifted her head and smiled at her brother; he really got it sometimes. “You’re right.”
“I know I’m right. And hell, if you don’t want him, I’ll gladly take over for you.”
“Jason? Thank you.”
He helped her off the floor. “Yeah, I talk big, but he’s still not good enough for my little sister.” He playfully pinged his on the nose. “No one is.”
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