by Berri Fox
Good times.
I’m not in the club long when I hear a little scuffle. It’s not the sort of thing that usually draws my attention because I stay away from conflict. I mean, hell, I stay away from minor disagreements! Only at this very moment do I realize that I stay away from anything that might cause me real emotion.
So, I gravitate towards the sound like a lizard might follow a hotspot on a rock. Reactive, instinctive, not thinking.
Very purposefully, not thinking.
When I hear Rachel telling someone to get out, I’m genuinely shocked. Rachel’s always cool, no matter how messed up someone is. Lucille’s standing there with eyes like daggers, but I can’t see who they are kicking out. One of the tough security girls is totally obscuring the view.
As they start to drag the troublemaker out, I follow. One foot falls after the other and again, I think of reaction rather than action. It’s not like I’m choosing this… The Helen I know wouldn’t go chasing after drama, no way. Not for any reason.
Here I am though. Striding along in the shadows, watching for a glimpse of the person being kicked out of the Cozy Nook. Is this because I specifically told myself, I couldn’t find a potential partner in there? Is this as far from my comfort zone as I’m ever going to get?
Good run, Helen. You made it to the door.
I’d be laughing it if wasn’t so true. Just a statement on my personality for the entirety of my whole life. Whenever I went on holiday, I rarely left the hotel grounds. It’s almost like I’m wearing one of those electric collars. If I don’t stay inside my safe zone, I’ll get zapped.
The security woman deposits her cargo on the sidewalk and turns back to go inside. She nods and smiles at me, so I smile back, but I don’t remember if I’ve met her before. She just keeps walking and then I realize I’m alone on the street with this very strange woman.
Even though it’s cold, she doesn’t attempt to get up. In fact, she rummages around in her backpack and then pushes it under herself to sit on. She pulls out a scrap of cigarette and tosses it away as it’s too small to light. She then burrows through her pockets until she finds some gum.
She’s completely self contained. Where I feel like I’m swimming in the world, constantly losing myself as I try to bend to its whim, she is solid and real. She doesn’t bend or blur her edges for anyone. The world makes way for her and if it doesn’t, she just forces her way through.
She doesn’t compromise. It’s obvious from her body language and her expression. I’ve never seen anything so inspiring in my whole life.
It’s also a bit creepy in its synchronicity. This could be exactly the woman I’m looking for. She’s a drifter, obviously. No roots. I can read the signs on her clothes and belongings that scream out her poverty and her flighty nature.
This could be the kind of girl who would pretend to be my wife for a nice sum of cash then disappear afterwards, leaving me with my magazine and my nice, uncomplicated life.
“Fuck them!” She mutters. “Fuck them all!”
I’m scared to introduce myself, let alone invite this woman into my life. Even as a simple business partnership, this is going to get messy. She’s the kind of person I’ve always avoided. The kind of person who might complicate my world.
I realize I’m taking quick, short breaths and it’s making me lightheaded. If I’m going to introduce myself at all, I need to be calm. If I’m going to propose a business transaction, I need to be clear on the terms.
I’m fucking terrified! I can feel myself losing my control and my calm. All the emotions of the day are charging through me and to my horror, I can feel my cheeks flaming and my palms getting sweaty.
I’m not being honest with myself again. I’m trying to tell myself about all the reasons why she’s a good choice for my little deception, but I’m ignoring the main reason.
I want to talk to her. I want to get to know her. In a way, I’m using my situation as an excuse for introducing myself.
Because even though she’s scary and unknown and really, really taboo, she’s incredibly hot.
Her very pale blonde hair is cut short and flares in spikes around her narrow, delicate face. She’s short and slender, looking as graceful as something made of crystal yet stronger than stone. I can see her delicate, curved lips and long lashes under the dim lights. She’s not even wearing any makeup.
Her legs are curved and graceful under her ripped tights and her small breasts bounce under the heavy jacket as she moves. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who would just walk down the street without a bra before.
My heart pounds in my chest and I can feel it in my throat, in my temples.
Just talk to her.
How can I?
How can I not?
I take a few steps forward, trying to get myself under control. I realize this is really stupid. I’m blowing the situation out of proportion. She’s just a girl with nowhere to go, not a goddamn panther loose on the street.
The longer I look at her, the more I feel sorry for her. She really does look lost, and kind of sad.
It makes me realize, I’m kind of sad too. Maybe I always have been. Maybe my calm exterior only exists to hide the real me from a world that can’t accept it.
Maybe, I’m just as lost as she is.
I close my eyes hard, counting to ten and holding my breath.
Then, before I can talk myself out of it, I go to her.
Six
Roxanne
The edge of the gutter is hard and unforgiving. It’s not the first time I’ve had nowhere else to sit but it’s not like it gets more glamorous every time.
What a bunch of stuck up snobs. Seriously, I knew they didn’t like the look of me, even earlier today when I visited the store. I must have been totally nuts to think that I could fit in with women like that, whether they are reading books and drinking tea or slinging ropes and whips.
I feel my eyes start to burn and I set my jaw and press my lips together. I’m not gonna cry. I keep pawing through my bag, shoving stuff out so it clatters into the gutter. I must have a cigarette in here somewhere!
It’s not like I smoke much, but it doesn’t hurt to have something around for emergencies. This is a pretty big emergency and of course, it figures that I don’t have a smoke.
I just stop, putting my head in my hands. I let my fingernails dig into my scalp a bit. The emotion rises in me and I feel it swelling up as I shake my head, refusing to cry.
This is always the way it goes, isn’t it? We love you Roxy, party with us Roxy… Go away now, Roxy.
Too fucked up. Too fucked up to even be in my own company. No one wants to really be with me. Not once my true personality comes out.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go. I’ve got nowhere to go. I might be able to find a motel or something, but I don’t have much money. Maybe there’s a shelter… Either a women’s one or maybe a bus terminal. No one looks twice if you fall asleep at a bus changeover. They just think you’re waiting for the three fifteen to Nutley.
I’m just starting to pull myself together when another wave of hopelessness wells inside me. I can feel it clawing up my throat. Okay, I’m going to cry now and nothing’s going to stop it. I might as well do it right here in the gutter. Nobody gives a fuck.
The bright light of the streetlamp flickers over me as a shadow moves. Great. A concerned citizen. Time to give someone a piece of my mind.
As my hands fall to my lap and I snap my head up, my face is twisted and ready to bite. But what I see sends warm relaxation through my bones and I can feel my face losing it’s expression as I look up in astonishment.
I stare into the biggest, most intense eyes I’ve ever seen. Rimmed with dark black liner, they shine green and wide. Her blonde hair looks like a halo, lit from behind by the streetlight. Her tight corset shows off an amazing set of curves, the long splits in the skirt going right up almost to her hip.
She holds out a hand as she smiles at me. I’m dumbfounde
d. I can’t move let alone speak.
She’s a fucking goddess.
“Hello?” She says brightly.
I don’t know how to respond. I mean, I’m sitting in the gutter wearing rags and trying not to cry. She’s standing over me in clothes that were probably made for her, looking like an angel freshly dropped from heaven. What is the correct response?
Fuck it. As if I’ve ever known. As if I’ve ever cared.
“Hello.” I try not to sound too sullen.
She smiles warmly. “Can I help you at all?”
I shake my head, desperate to get out of here all of a sudden. I can’t handle this. Being on my own, feeling hurt, running—these are things I know how to do. Conversing with a goddess is not something I have any experience with.
I don’t want to run away, though. Something about her draws me, and it’s not just that she’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at her. But it’s not entirely that.
She seems calm. So very relaxed and easy. As if the entire world storms around her in chaos and she stays quietly within it, letting it be itself while she cruises along with it.
I want that peace. I need that peace.
“I’m Helen.” She holds out a hand and for a moment I’m struck dumb.
“Oh. Yeah—sorry. Roxy.”
I stick out a hand and we shake. I try to look away. I don’t want to encourage her. The only way this can go is badly.
“Hey. I’m sorry about what happened down there.”
“Why? You didn’t do it.”
She shakes her head. “I think it was just a big misunderstanding.”
“I don’t care.”
“Don’t be like that. I’m sure I could talk to Rachel and get you back in.”
“Why would I want to go back in?”
“Hey, come on now. The Nook is a great spot. You guys just got off on the wrong foot.”
I look out into the street. “It doesn’t matter.”
Silence stretches between us and I don’t look up at her again. I can’t. It just hurts to know what I’ll never have. I should get out of here.
She’s still beside me and it’s starting to get a bit weird. Neither one of says anything but I feel like she’s full of urgency. She’s got something inside her, something that needs to get out. Yes, she’s got something to ask me or say to me. I can sense that and it’s why she’s not walking away.
But there’s something else. Something under the skin. I turn my head slowly and look back up at her and even though her face is still a smooth mask of calm I can sense a river turning beneath it.
We look into each others’ eyes for a moment and time stretches between us. I don’t feel awkward anymore. I feel like I could sit here forever.
“I, ah…” For the briefest of seconds, she seems to lose her cool. That sense of calm assurance doesn’t waver, but she does look anxious. I turn towards her slightly, suddenly wondering where this is going.
Because this is going somewhere. I thought she might be one of those goody two shoes types that just needed to apologize to me so she could feel better about her friends roughing me up. But she’s done that and she’s still here.
“Roxy, how about I buy you some dinner?”
My stomach growls immediately, competing with the cars roaring past nearby. I haven’t eaten a good meal in a really long time. Helen looks like she won’t skimp on the luxuries either.
“We aren’t going back into the Nook, are we?”
She shakes her head. “No. They don’t really do dinner in there. I want to… Make it up to you. I guess.”
I frown at her, just a little. I’m pretty sure that’s not what she was going to say.
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. I just need some company and I feel bad about those guys throwing you out. Seriously I’ve never seen them do that before.”
“I tend to have that affect on people.”
Silence falls between us again as we look at each other. Helen frowns but she doesn’t answer me, not directly anyway.
“Come on.” She holds out her hand and I swear, it’s trembling. “Let me buy you some dinner and we can talk.”
I don’t know what we could possibly have to talk about. I have no clue why this gorgeous creature would want to pull me out of the gutter. At this point I’ve just had so much stress I don’t even care. I’m tired and still wondering where I’m going to sleep tonight. Given the circumstances, I can’t turn down free dinner.
“Okay.” I say softly. She looks surprised but hides it well. I pick myself up and grab my bag, wondering what kind of woman she must be to literally pick someone up out of the gutter.
Seven
Helen
There is a fierce, icy twist in my guts. It’s like a frozen fist has ahold of my intestines and is gripping them hard, trying to pull them out through my belly button. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous.
As Roxy gets up, my eyes slide down her body. I can’t deny my attraction. She’s very slight and her curves are compact. Her legs are strong, muscles stretching her fishnets against the worn holes. Her short, pale hair flutters around her face, at odds with her dark makeup.
She is gorgeous. I wonder what she’d look like in some really nice clothes. I could do some nice, understated makeup on her and get her into a sheath dress with sleek heels. The idea almost makes me pant.
Maybe I’m just looking for an excuse to get her clothes off.
“Where are we going?” Roxy asks, starting to walk down the street. I’m watching her ass so hard that for a moment, I don’t understand the question.
“Oh, there’s a diner down here, just on the corner.” I hurry to get even with her, so I’m not tempted to stare at her butt.
I could take her to the fanciest restaurant in town and I could order a limo to take us there. I think something like that would truly dazzle her. I’d love to spoil her, make her feel like a princess.
I can’t though, not right now. I’m in my kink gear. If I go to one of the big restaurants I’m bound to get seen. I couldn’t explain to my family what I was doing dressed up like this. It’s inappropriate even as a Halloween costume.
And if they knew about the kink… The ropes and toys and tools… I’d never live it down. The idea of my grandmother finding out fills me with horror.
I also don’t want to walk into a fancy place with Roxy on my arm. I like her and I wouldn’t be mean to her or anything… It’s just that she really does look like I pulled her out of the gutter.
We walk quietly for a few minutes, cold wind sweeping at my legs. I glance over at her a few times and she has her lips set together, her eyes focused firmly forward. She gives nothing away, even though I can sense the furious storm behind those delicate features.
We reach the diner and push through the door into the rush of warmth. I try not to pay attention to the other patrons as they look up, I know I’m in a fancy get up and it’s going to get noticed.
Roxy just grins at them and even waves. I’m completely mortified but I manage to swallow it down as we head for a booth in the back.
We sit down across from each other and I smooth my skirt carefully, wondering what kind of ick I’m going to get on it.
Roxy has a big smile on her face now as she looks around. She picks up a menu and starts looking it over, getting more excited by the moment. I can’t help myself from smiling back. She’s easy to please.
Not like most people I know.
“What can I getcha, girls?” The waitress stops by, holding a tray on a jaunty hip.
“Oh, I’ll just have a piece of cheesecake and a latte.”
“We got baked cheesecake and strawberry. What size on the latte?”
“Baked cheesecake thanks, and a large latte.”
She makes a note on her pad, putting the tray under one arm after giving us water glasses. She looks over at Roxy, pen held high and at the ready.
Roxy s
quints at the menu and doesn’t even look up.
“What’s on the cheeseburger?”
“Just beef and cheese honey.”
“Okay. I want the cheeseburger, but I want bacon and tomato on it. With mayo. Not ketchup. Got it? Big cheeseburger, biggest you got, with bacon, tomato and mayo.”
“Got it. Want a side with that?”
“Yes, I do. I want half curly fries and half sweet potato chips. Super size it!”
“Okay…” The waitress is beginning to look worried. I’m trying to hide my giggles under my hand. I’ve never seen anyone order with such focused attention.
“I’ll have a couple of pizza pockets too. Ham and cheese.”
“As an entrée?” The waitress asks, getting flustered.
“Whatever. Burger, 2 kinds of fries, pizza pockets.”
“Okay.” The waitress starts to move away.
“Hey, whoa wait. Where are you going?”
“Sorry.” The waitress moves back to the table. “Was there something else?”
“I never ordered dessert. I want a piece of chocolate cake. A big one. Like seriously, if you only have small slices, give me two. And I want ice cream on it. Lots of ice cream.”
The waitress is trying to hide behind her note pad. “Uh—huh.”
“And a bag of cookies. Half choc chip half walnut. At least ten.”
The waitress can only gasp as she scribbles towards the end of her notepad.
“Did you—Did you need a drink with that?”
“Yes! A hot chocolate. You know, the really fancy ones. Big tall cup. Whipped cream with chocolate flakes and a piece of flake sticking out. A few marshmallows wouldn’t hurt.”
The waitress now appears to be in a state of panic. I’m not sure what Roxy’s doing. Surely, she can’t eat all that food herself! Whatever game we’re playing, I’m enjoying it and I can certainly pay for the food.