by Nicole Marsh
Shortly after putting away my purse, Marc gathers everyone for the Daily meeting. I drag my chair right to the front instead of hanging out in the back of the group, like I’ve done when I’m late. Unfortunately, Vlad puts his chair right next to mine. He does that thing where he spreads out again, so he’s completely in my space. His antics cause me to give a resigned sigh, already knowing if I give up any space, he’ll just take that too.
I stay facing the front of the room to pay attention to the meeting, but Marc is busy eyeing Vlad. Glancing between them, it looks like they’re in some sort of staring contest. Marc finally blinks, then looks away and the corner of Vlad’s lips turn up into a smirk.
Marc address the group, but avoids looking back at Vlad. He claps his hands together twice and asks, “Alright, give me some stories guys. What’s new in Florence?”
Random ideas are shouted out and the ones Marc likes are thrown on the board. It took me a few days to figure out that Marc stays late each night to print the copies of the paper to be distributed the next morning, each day new assignments are given out, to anyone that’s finished their last story. The staff works Monday through Friday and Marc holds the big stories written during the week to be put in the papers he prints by himself for Saturday and Sunday delivery.
It’s almost hard to believe Marc is only seven years older than me, his work ethic makes him seem so much older. I can see how passionate he is about making the paper into a successful business and after he told me he moved here from Connecticut for his dreams, I feel like I have a better understanding of why he works so hard.
He dedicates a lot of his time to creating the Daily. Making it interesting and relevant for his small, but loyal reader base. Instead of riding his staff to constantly produce clean edits, Marc takes on a lot of the work himself to make sure everything meets his standards. Everyone that works at the Daily really seems to enjoy working here, but more specifically, working for Marc.
Once the board is full, Marc starts jotting down names next to assignments. I don’t really pay much attention, assuming that I’ll be with Vlad all this week like I was with Glenna all of last week. I can feel Vlad’s leg muscles pressed against me clench and I look over at him to see what’s happening.
Vlad isn’t look at me, his eyes are fixated on the whiteboard and I follow his gaze to see my name written next to Marc’s. He put us next to a story covering a huge anonymous donation that the local animal shelter received recently.
Honestly I’m kind of relieved to not have to work with Vlad and his bad attitude today. And I’m excited about the story, hopefully we’ll get to go to the shelter and look at the animals today. It’ll be interesting to work with Marc as well, to get his perspective and tips to help me write better articles. Working with Vlad yesterday was helpful for tips on interviewing techniques so I imagine working with Marc will be even better.
Marc dismisses us from the meeting and everyone scatters. Vlad takes an extra-long time to get up and move his chair, huffing under his breath a few times in the process. I don’t bother to ask about his bad attitude.
Maybe he was planning to prank me today and Marc ruined his plans. Or maybe he wanted me to write up the whole article since he left part way through the interviews. Oh. I should probably get him my notes to use for his article since we won’t be working together today.
Abandoning my chair at the front of the room, I pluck my notebook of my desk and bring it to Vlad. He glares at me, watching my progress across the room with narrowed eyes. “What do you need? You’re working with Marc today.” He asks once I’m standing before him.
I offer my notepad between outstretched hands. “I wanted to offer my notes from the interviews yesterday, in case you need them.” He looks at the book, but doesn’t move to take it and I tack on, “Sorry I can’t work with you today to finish the article.”
Vlad offers a curt nod before accepting the notebook and turning back to his computer. He aggressively shakes the mouse and starts pounding against the keys once the screen lights up. I back away to leave him and his bad attitude, heading off to search out Marc for our assignment. I spot him by the water cooler.
Marc informs me that we’ll go to the animal shelter after lunch and instructs me to go sit with Glenna for the first half of the day. After our conversation he shuts himself into his office. I watch him for a second as he logs into his computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard, before finding Glenna. Marc and Vlad are both acting super weird, hopefully Glenna is more normal today.
The rest of the day drags by slowly. Marc barely leaves his office all morning. After lunch he finally approaches me at Glenna’s desk where I’m writing another article about the knitting expo. “Hey Mira, I think we might have to wait until tomorrow for the animal shelter, something came up.”
I stop typing to take in his expression. “Is everything okay?” Marc nods distractedly, but he ends up leaving the Daily shortly after and doesn’t return the rest of the afternoon.
Later when I’m leaving the Daily, my phone starts buzzing, shaking my entire purse. I step to the side to get out of the way and dig through my purse until my fingers touch the slim side. I pull out my phone victoriously, sliding the button across the screen to accept the call. “Hello.” I answer, expecting to hear Marc’s voice, before recalling he doesn’t have my number.
“Oh my god! I’ve called you three times since yesterday. Why haven’t you answered?” Sylvia screeches into the phone.
I wince at the tone and volume of her words, but reply anyways. “Sorry, I got caught up. I have so much to tell you about yesterday.” I glance around to make sure no one is left in the lot to overhear my conversation. “Vlad took me out to the Diner yesterday. And I think after work I went on a date with my boss at the Daily!”
I hold my phone away from my ear as Sylvia shouts random noises until she finally calms down. “I’ll be over in a half hour. I need to know everything,” She says then hangs up abruptly.
The entire rest of the week, I’m on time for work. The days blur into each other as Marc and I hammer out a few assignments together, including the animal shelter project that he bailed out on. When I’m not with Marc, I’m shadowing Glenna. She’s becoming more and more excited about the knitting expo as it draws near. It literally comes up in every conversation that we have. Her articles in the Daily seem to really be ramping up the town too. Everywhere I go downtown, I hear conversations about the expo.
There haven’t been any more incidents in the office this week, but I can feel Vlad’s glare hit my back every time I enter Marc’s office to work on an article. Marc hasn’t brought up our date at the Parlor either, but every day he leaves a box of chocolate covered cherries on my desk with a nice note complimenting me on something from the day prior. He seems very sweet and thoughtful, and it’s nice to get little treats, no one has ever done that before.
By the time Friday afternoon rolls around, I’m not sure that I want the weekend to start. I think I’ll miss being at the daily on Saturday and Sunday. When the time comes to pack up, I do so sadly, looking around the office with morose.
A voice from my left startles me, causing me to jump and elbow a cup of water, but Marc’s quick reflexes save the cup before we both end up splattered with water. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump. I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner later tonight.”
Facing Marc I adopt a regretful expression. “I actually have plans for tonight… and for tomorrow. Would you want to do something Sunday?” I offer apologetically.
As promised, Tony texted me the address for his party tonight and a few follow-up texts saying he hoped I could make it. I finally confirmed yesterday that I would show up tonight, which Tony answered with sixteen emoji’s, making me believe he’s pretty excited that I finally agreed. I would feel terrible cancelling on the plans now.
“Ah, sorry I left my invite to last minute. Dinner Sunday then?” Marc asks. He’s taken a step closer so we’re almost touching. My
body feels a warm buzzing that I don’t really understand. It’s not like attraction, it feels like I’m standing against a dryer on high as it tumbles clothes around.
I clear my throat. “My parents usually have their friends over Sunday, and we all have dinner together.” Pausing for a second, I decide not to think about all the potential bad outcomes before I ask, “Would you like to join us?”
Marc wraps his arms around my waist. “Dinner with the parents already?” His tone is low and teasing and he lets out a chuckle after he says it.
I laugh over my own awkwardness, then separate from Marc to grab my things. “See you then?” I ask when we reach the door.
Marc responds with a nod and I can feel his eyes on me as I get into my car. There’s only two others in the lot now, as everyone else has already gone home for the weekend. One is Marc’s truck and the other is Vlad’s car. His engine is running, but his windows are tinted so I can’t see inside.
When I leave the lot, I see Vlad in my rearview finally going home as well. His car follows behind mine almost my entire drive home, until he finally pulls off onto his side of the Main Road a few seconds before I enter my own neighborhood.
Crossing the threshold into the house, I start to yell out that I’m home, but swallow my words when my Mom bursts into the room. She’s dressed in her gardening clothes and covered in dirt. “How was your day, sweetie?”
I shrug, placing my bag on a table in the entryway to take off my shoes. “It was fine, work was busy.”
My mom smiles at me and pats my shoulder. “I’m so proud of you for using your summer for an internship. Before you run off, could you do me a favor and get some ice cream? All of this gardening has activated my sweet tooth.”
My mom usually has our food delivered by the grocery store once a week, but occasionally she’ll get a craving for something sweet. Our normal grocery delivery is all super healthy food, mostly meat and veggies, which our Chef whips up into delicious meals. When my mom is craving sweets, she sends me or my dad to go pick it up from the store. She says that including it in our weekly food order sets a bad precedent, even though she asks one of us to go get her something from the store at least once a week.
Sighing, I pull my one shoe back on and ask, “What flavor?”
Back in my Prius, I cautiously drive down the driveway before turning my music all the way up and taking the Main Road towards the store. Halfway there, I spot someone sprinting down the side in the distance. I slow down a bit and turn down my music, a couple of extra precautions to help me stay focused and avoid hitting pedestrians. As I’m passing the runner, who has kept up a hard sprint for at least the last three or four minutes, I see that it’s Vlad!
He’s running hard and fast, but he doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat. I contemplate pulling over, after I pass. But decide against it, maybe he’ll be able to run off his bad attitude from this week.
Glancing in my rearview mirror a couple minutes later, I spot him still sprinting, turning down a dirt path that leads into the woods. He’s a fast runner, I’ve never really imagined Vlad working out. I guess I just imagined him as naturally muscular and burly, but it makes sense with his build and his past playing football that he probably spends a ton of time running and lifting.
7
The Party
Mirabella
I follow my GPS to the address given by Tony earlier in the week. Before I reach the house, I can hear the music from the street and see people spilling out onto the front lawn and sidewalk. Entering, I waffle between walking forward into the crowd of strangers or turning around and going home. I tried to convince Sylvia to come with me tonight, so I didn’t have to show up alone, but another girl agreed to be her guinea pig for a haircut. She was only free tonight, so Sylvia declined my invitation in order to do her homework.
Now, arriving at the party in full swing, the house packed with bodies, I regret my decision not to bring backup. I look around from my spot in the entryway, trying to find Tony, or anyone with a familiar face. I’m contemplating ditching the party and heading back home when I hear my name being called from the living room. Tony emerges from the crowd and pushes his way to the front of the room a few seconds later. He’s wearing a pair of jeans, a dark tee, and his letterman jacket, enthusiastically waving an arm in the air to get my attention.
Choosing an outfit for tonight took almost an hour. This is my first party, so I didn’t know what to expect. I eventually settled on a short, sleeveless, black dress that clings to my body. My favorite part of the dress is the low cut back, with extra straps crisscrossing my skin to give a more modest appearance. When I put the dress on, I was feeling grown-up and risqué, but looking around I see most of the girls here are in tiny shorts and even tinier bandeau tops. Now, my confidence is faltering and I feel a bit out of place and overdressed.
I shoot Tony a shy smile before making my way down the stairs to meet him. Once I reach the bottom step, he throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me tight against his side. Tony isn’t quite as tall as Vlad, but my head is still under his shoulder. I feel like he’s basically just tucked me into his armpit.
Yuck, why am I thinking about Vlad at my first party? Probably because he’s a lot like most armpits. Dark and smelly.
Tony interrupts my thoughts about the similarities between Vlad and armpits, yelling to be heard over the music pumping from speakers in the living room, “Let’s go get a drink, babe!”
I nod my head, hoping he can either see me, or feel me nod against his chest. It’s so loud I’d have to scream to be heard.
Tony’s keeps me wrapped tight against his side as we make our way across the living room towards the kitchen. Although the house isn’t that large, travelling between rooms takes quite some time. Tony stops as other guys yell his name to offer fist bumps and girls approach with seductive looks, telling him to “find them later if he’s free”. I’ve gotten more than a few dirty looks for being tucked against Tony’s side as we walk.
We finally reach the kitchen, where it’s a bit quieter and less crowded. I’m about to escape from under Tony’s arm, but freeze in place when I spot the back of a head that looks awfully familiar. I don’t have to guess who it is, as I’m dragged over to the head in question by Tony as he shouts, “Vlad, my man! You made it.”
Vlad turns around at his name and looks like he’s about to give one of those one-armed bro-hug-pat-things when his gaze lands on me, still pressed into Tony’s armpit. Vlad’s gaze immediately hardens and he pulls back, “Mira? Do your parents know you’re here?”
Tony laughs, apparently not feeling the sudden tension and assuming Vlad is making a joke. “Probably not, huh Mir? Most parents don’t willing escort their kids to a house party to partake in underage drinking. Glad you could make it to the party Vlad” Tony steers me away towards a keg before Vlad can reply. He excuses us by shouting, “I’m gonna go get my girl a drink” over his shoulder.
I swear I hear a muttered “she’s not your girl” but the music and distance make it hard to be sure.
After I finish two beers Tony secured me from the kitchen keg, I’m feeling fantastic. I’ve never had a beer before tonight, they’ve made me a bit lightheaded and full feeling, but they’ve also loosened up my limbs and made me feel more relaxed. I’ve never had so much fun. I’m popping my proverbial cherry on all things party related tonight.
I’m tempted to suggest to Tony that we play spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven, just because it’s something else I’ve never done. But I change my mind after I think about having to have my first kiss with a stranger as part of a party game.
Tony knows everyone, standing with him has exposed me to a constant stream of new faces. He keeps introducing me to everyone he knows, calling me his girl with his arm lightly around my waist. I gave up on correcting him two beers ago, every time I did he just smiled and ignored me anyways.
Some of the girls that approached us were catty but after grabbing our third
beers, Tony relocated us onto the back patio to hang out with his close friends and their girlfriends. The patio has less traffic from party goers, including rude girls.
We’re all standing around, drinking and laughing. My bladder is starting to hurt, I really need to use the bathroom but after a step forward, I stumble a bit, falling back against Tony. “Can you help me find the bathroom?” I ask him, a bit embarrassed, but still giggling.
One of his friend’s girlfriends, Anna, chimes in before Tony has a chance to respond. “We can go together!” We lean against each other as she yells instructions on how to navigate through the house. She tells me that she always comes here to party and remembers the layout of the house.
After three wrong turns, we find the bathroom. There’s a line, of course, so we lean against the wall to wait. A new pop song comes blaring out the speakers in the living room. Anna jumps up and down and lets out a squeal, clapping her hands together. “This is my song! Will you be okay if I leave you here to go dance? I’ll come back once it’s over.” She promises me with pleading eyes.
“Sure.” I respond with a laugh. “Hopefully I’m out before the song is over and I’ll come find you instead.”
Anna rushes off with a quick wave over her shoulder and I stay leaned against the wall. Shuffling each time the line moves slowly forward. I’m two people from the door when a large form hovers over me.
When the person doesn’t move, I look up and find Vlad’s angry face scowling down at me. I push a deep breath out from my chest. Of course he couldn’t just see me here and leave me alone. He had to disrupt my first party, well I’m not going to let him ruin it. I attempt a bored tone, “What do you need, Vlad?”