by Alexa Davis
I felt an evil grin spread across my face, as I pondered the costume pieces, props, and toys I had in my dressing room. “If I get to be in charge next, we should go eat now,” I suggested, “before I really wear you out.”
“Nerds,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Dirty perverts, the lot of them.” I giggled and he gave me a quick hug, before pulling his shirt back over his head. “Dinner, hardware store, then home. Although, stopping for rubber hose and metal brackets just took on a whole new, frightening meaning for me.”
I laughed so hard I made myself sneeze, which set him off laughing too. Even though I thought we might be under threat of starving to death before we ever got around to eating again, I had never been so happy to spend every second together without the stresses or strains of whatever it was we might become.
While he finished dressing, I pulled my wet hair into a ponytail and fed Stiles a can of his favorite food. When I shut off the light, I could see into the open bedroom where the light from the window fell on the mannequin and the winged costume. We were at the beginning of what was to be a very strange and (I crossed my fingers) wonderful week. I locked the door behind me and Jackson took my hand, as we set off into the wilds of Los Angeles, looking for adventure… or at least some good nachos.
14. Jackson
My head was spinning. I walked down the street with my arm around C.J. and wondered how it was possible that I didn’t look like a huge charlatan to the people around me. C.J. leaned against me as we stood waiting for the go-ahead to cross the street, then pulled away and pointed out a brew-pub she thought I’d like.
I didn’t reach for her again, but felt a sort of emptiness in the space between us. We hadn’t known each other long enough for me to spout off to her about feelings, but I reached out and took her hand, placing it on my elbow like my older brothers had taught me to back when I was a gangly fourteen-year-old on the way to his first date.
The brew pub was everything she had claimed. Along with amazing craft beers we had soft, sweet crab cakes, Kobe beef burgers, and even though we were both stuffed by that time, somehow we managed to split a slice of peanut butter pie. I groaned in equal parts ecstasy and intestinal distress as I forced another forkful of sweet peanut butter and chocolate goodness into my mouth.
“I’m going to have to walk a few miles to feel right again,” I admitted around the mouthful of dessert.
“You could stop eating it,” C.J. suggested, earning herself a baleful glare from across the table.
“Sacrilege.”
“We could work it off in bed…”
“I think that would go south quickly.”
She laughed and covered her mouth with her napkin as she started choking on her last bite of pie. “Well, how about we take in a movie? We have all day tomorrow to work on the brace, we don’t have to worry about travel or lodgings for the convention and, thanks to me, you have a VIP pass that means you don’t have to get in line at six in the morning just to get in at ten.”
“How far to the theatre?”
“Less than a mile from here, and less than half a mile home again after.”
“That sounds like a plan. Want to see anything in particular?” She thought for a second and shook her head.
“I’ve been so busy, I don’t even know what’s in the theater right now.” I pushed the plate away from me as a gesture of surrender and grinned.
“No big, we’ll just see whatever is starting closest to when we get there, that isn’t a G-rated cartoon.”
She sat back, feigning shock. “What do you have against children’s movies?”
I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “Hey, I have four older brothers who never fail to score with the ladies. One hard and fast rule they taught me, was that no one wants to have sex after a Disney movie. I’m just trying to keep my options open.”
It was C.J.’s turn to roll her eyes. “Oh, brother. How about I use the restroom and you get us the check? I’m happy to pay for half, so don’t worry about covering it all.” She got up and sauntered to the ladies’ room, and I handed our server my card, just as she was bringing us the check. With a wink and a quick smile, she took off again, and by the time C.J. got back, our bill was paid, complete with the perky waitress’ phone number hand written across the top of the receipt she handed back to me.
I folded it in half, hiding the scrawl across the top, and on our way out, dropped it in a trash can. I had no reason to even look at it twice, but gave the cute waitress props for thinking she could hold up against the amazon goddess walking with me to the theater.
Thank God for the Marvel Universe popping out movies like a hare had litters. I wasn’t even sure what heroes were in the movie playing, but we bought tickets and went to our seats without stopping at the snack stand, still stuffed from dinner. The movie had lots of action, and the theater was cold enough that halfway through, C.J. slid closer and lifted the arm of the seat between us so she could pull my arm around her and warm her up.
When the movie ended, we waited until the few people sharing our Tuesday night cinema left and we were alone in our seats. We wandered out and started to wind through the rat maze to find an exit door, when I noticed a movie about to begin, one that I’d been wanting to see.
“C.J., have you ever snuck into a movie?”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “Of course not! Wait, have you?”
I laughed and nodded. “Not since I was a kid. C’mon, let’s see how full the theater is.” I took her by the hand and we snuck up the ramp and around the corner. The place wasn’t even half full, and there were seats available right behind the extra-wide handicap access. I found us seats right in the center and sat down, and C.J. sat stiffly next to me. I rubbed her back and told her to relax, and she leaned over to me.
“I have to use the restroom, I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t you dare buy tickets, you hear me? They’ll survive, and you need to live a little.” She stuck her tongue out at me, shiny in the glow of the trailer that was beginning to play on the giant screen in front of us. She slipped out the side and disappeared around the corner, and I was tempted to follow her to make sure she didn’t pay for the flick, just on principle.
Several minutes and a couple of trailers later, I looked up at a shadow that was cast dimly across my face, and started at the tub of popcorn that hovered there. I took it from C.J.’s outstretched hand and she handed me a large soda gesturing that I use the holder between us. She then gave me a choice of candy, between Twizzlers and Junior Mints, and shrugged her shoulders when I rolled my eyes.
“I’ll take the Junior Mints, and why did you buy food? You can’t possibly be hungry.” She dropped her gaze and played with her purse. “C.J., seriously. All you had to do was tell me you wanted something and I would have bought it for you.”
“You said not to buy tickets.”
Tickets would have been twenty bucks. You spent, what, twenty-three?”
“Almost twenty-five.”
“So, more than tickets would have cost.”
“But, I will sleep tonight.” She bit into a piece of strawberry licorice and grinned around the red candy that was sticking out of her mouth. I sighed and settled in to watch the last trailer before the movie.
“Trade you some of the frozen mints for some Twizzlers.” I said around a mouthful of popcorn.
“Knock yourself out,” she said, handing me the bag, “I really only want some of the Dr. Pepper.” I glanced down at the tall, wax coated cup that was already beginning to sweat condensation in the cup holder at my wrist. It was still cold, and I felt guilty for not having thought of it before she started rubbing her hands over her arms.
I dumped all the candy in her lap and reached across her with the soda, using the cup holder in the opposite armrest. I lifted the one between us and scooted her right up against my side, pulling strands of licorice out of the bag in her lap one at a time between bouts of belly laughter at the low-brow and often perverse humor on the big screen
.
As we made our way back to her apartment, C.J. practically skipped down the sidewalk doing remarkably good impressions of the guys we’d just watched trading one-liners between pratfalls. Every time she finished a joke, she’d laugh out loud, right there in the middle of Los Angeles, like we were all alone inside the apartment. Just watching her made me smile.
“Hey, where’s the hardware store? We’re all jacked up on Dr. Pepper and sugar, we might as well burn it off doing what we planned, or at least trying to make our sugar-high selves useful to our nauseated and sober selves of tomorrow morning. She giggled and wrapped her hand around my elbow, and pointed to the right.
“It’s only about a block over, but,” she glanced at her phone, “they closed while we were watching Mark Wahlberg make an ass of himself. So, let’s go home, play a little Overwatch, or Minecraft, have a beer or two, maybe handcuff you to the bedrail…”
I scoffed, then glanced at her face, to make sure she was kidding. She winked at me and tugged me toward the complex door.
15. Carina
After I had dragged Jackson upstairs he got the wild idea of having his own little cosplay parade, with me as the opening act and only headliner. We turned it into a drinking game, where we had to roll a die to decide which costume piece to put on next. I ended up wearing bits and pieces of costumes that spanned comic books, video games, and he even dug into my brief flirtation with Manga, a style of Japanese anime.
“You were Sailor Moon and I missed it?” He gasped. “Forget the game. I need you to put this on, in full. What else do you need to complete it?” I laughed and pointed at the silver wig on its shelf and then directed him to the apothecary chest against the wall, where he could find the blue belt and crimson neck scarf.
“I’m beginning to think it’s the costumes you like, not me.” I pouted, even as I strutted across the room in the midriff top, ass-cheek baring skirt, and high-heeled white runners I’d had made especially for the costume. I’d nixed panties at the last second, because the ones I was wearing were black, but thought better of it just a moment too late, as I turned and felt the skirt lift on the breeze I created, and danced out of reach as Jackson made a lunge for me.
“Oh, come on, you didn’t really wear it like that, did you?” He sounded half-horrified that I might have, half-disappointed that he knew I hadn’t.
“No, you dork. My white spanks are in the wash.” I rolled my eyes as he sat on the floor with his back to the ottoman I used for dressing. His face was flushed from the whiskey and he looked at me slant-eyed from his position on the floor
“God, I love the view.”
“Oh, get up, dress-up time is over. We’ll just have to see if you still like me in sweatpants.” He bounced to his feet and started putting away costume pieces as I changed out of the little blue and white sailor outfit. I changed into the sweat pants and tank top I’d threatened him with, and when I rejoined him in the dressing room, everything was put away and he was lying on the floor in a staring contest with Stiles the cat.
“Tomorrow is go day for getting those wings lighter. I think we can maybe take a couple pounds off. Would that help?”
I wanted to say something about alcohol and big ideas, but he looked completely serious, and at least half sober. “Jackson, every ounce counts when you’re in four inch heels for 10 hours straight. You might have to carry me home.”
He rolled onto his back and stared up at me. “I like your ass in those pants.” He reached up with both hands and made a grabbing motion. “That might have been the alcohol talking a little bit, but I stand by my air groping.”
I laughed and shook my butt a little for him. “Ace hardware opens before eight in the morning. I am going to go lay in bed and watch a movie. Because, obviously, we haven’t had enough of those today.”
Jackson got up and brushed himself off. “You still want my company, even after I confessed to you that if you weren’t before, you are now definitely the bulk of my fantasy material.”
“I can handle it. I’ll even let you feel me up during this movie. I still can’t believe you tried in the middle of that stupid cop/bromance/frat party movie.”
“When movie is that bad, you have to find ways to take the edge off,” he shrugged. “Besides. You have the most amazing breasts, like, ever. It is an honor and a privilege to ensure that they receive the attention they so rightly deserve. I rolled my eyes and turned the lights out in the dressing room.
“I have bacon and eggs for breakfast, if you want. I got precooked bacon though, because tonight was the last time I get to eat real food for a few days. If you really want to suffer, you can eat and drink what I do. I would strongly suggest against it.” He arched an eyebrow at me and I shuddered. “Very strongly.”
He pulled out the bed while I brushed my teeth and pulled my hair back in a ponytail. He was in a white muscle shirt and basketball shorts when I came back out, lounging on the bed and scratching Stiles behind the ears.
“You may decide you don’t like me, but I have the feline vote.” I laughed and squeezed in on the edge of the bed, the only space Stiles had left me as he laid on his side, stretched out to his full length. “Seriously, though. Is he part dog? Because he’s the biggest damn cat I’ve ever seen in such a small home.”
“I think his daddy was a Maine Coon, but his momma was a lovely little grey tabby. I wanted to take them both, but an old lady was just signing the paperwork on her when I walked in.”
“And so, ends the story, of how an old cat lady saved you from becoming a cat lady.”
I reached behind me for a pillow and smacked him across the shoulder with it.
“You are so lucky you look so good naked.” He grinned at me and let Stiles attack his hand. “So, I picked the last movie, what’s your pleasure?”
I was tempted to force myself to watch a romantic comedy, just to punish him, but after a moment’s hesitation, I decided to go with something that would get me in the mood to play an ancient being obsessed with war and chaos and killing men. “Expendables, it is,” I announced as I found the movie in my digital collection.
He settled in, after looking at me for a long moment. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he was thinking harder than I had considered he was capable of. I turned out the lights to watch the movie, grateful that the darkness also hid my hot, red blush. I was used to being stared at and scrutinized every day. I was not used to those looks so obviously looking past my appearance to what lay deeper.
Jackson shoved Stiles into a pile of vibrating fur at our feet, and he stayed without complaint, happy to curl up between us and run his engine while the surround sound pummeled us with explosions and fire fights. Jackson was out before the climatic fight, so I covered him with one of my extra blankets, and finished the movie alone. I was lucky enough to have a well-insulated apartment, and the sounds of the nocturnal creatures that had come out to fill the dance clubs and watering holes of Los Angeles were only the dimmest murmur outside the windows of the apartment. There was just enough hum in the air to lull me to sleep, back to back with Jackson, my monster cat still dreaming between our legs.
16. Jackson
I awoke to sunlight streaming in the living room window. C.J. was splayed out over half the bed, and her cat, Stiles, was sitting on the side table, staring at me expectantly. My stomach voiced some serious complaints about what I’d filled it with the night before, but what C.J. had said about her diet for the next few days didn’t tempt me in the least, so I figured I’d do her a favor and eat before she got up.
I scrambled eggs, heated up some bacon, and emptied a can of fishy smelling cat pate into a dish which Stiles pounced on immediately and polished off before I even got my own breakfast on a plate. I cleaned up my mess quickly, hoping the tantalizing smell of bacon wouldn’t stick around too long, and settled down at the bar in her kitchen to eat. I had to admit, all that time pestering Patty over the years had paid off. I could have served breakfast to the guys, and they never wou
ld have known the difference.
“Ah, he cooks!” came a sleepy voice behind me. C.J. was just sitting up in bed, and Stiles, having licked his bowl until it shone, bounded over to her, begging just like he had done to me. “Okay, baby, I’ll get you some breakfast.”
“Don’t buy it, I just fed him a whole can of that nasty stuff.” I finished my last couple of bites and stood to wash my plate.
“Oh, you little stinker. You keep that up, you’ll be a sumo wrestler cat in no time!” She scratched his back and he wound himself around her. “He always has been an opportunist, and he got your number. You should have seen him when my mother came to visit. He had her convinced he was starving. I had to forbid her from feeding him--she had him up to five cans a day.” She poked him in the stomach. “Little porker.”
I started putting veggies and the powder I’d found in her pantry into the blender in the order of the list she’d left out on the counter. “Hungry? I’ll have this done in a minute.”
“You don’t have to do that, I can make it,” she protested.
“Will you, or will you just go without? I remember you talking about this in the past. A few months ago, you realized after almost two full days that you hadn’t eaten.”
“Okay, go ahead and make it. But, don’t go all ‘intervention’ on me. Not eating, for me, was a model-thing, not a psychological disorder thing. Sometimes, they make you go without for so long, you just get used to not eating.”
I turned on the blender, and bit my tongue while it whirred loudly, crushing up the ice and veggies together. I poured it into a tall glass and handed it to her as she joined me in the kitchen.
“First, I’m glad you’re not a full-time model anymore. Second, this one isn’t too bad, from what I tasted. Hopefully that helps. Third. I am really, truly, deeply grateful you aren’t focused on modelling anymore.”
“Well, don’t hate on it too much, there are a lot of good people trying to stop the bad ones from treating people that way anymore. Unfortunately, I got in with the wrong ones at my start. It’s a cutthroat industry, I was lucky in a lot of ways.”