Original: "Lessons in Cartography, Part I" Naomi Marrow, Dash Warren, Radiation Canary Bonus Track
My character poll made me realize something. One, Naomi Marrow is a very popular character in Radiation Canary (and rightfully so! I fell in love with her the moment I started writing her... she was supposed to be a side character but she got promoted :D). And two, as important as their relationship is, Naomi and Dash Warren don't have a single scene together. There is one scene where they might conceivably pass each other as Dash walks out and Naomi walks in, but otherwise? Nada. This is, as you can assume, unacceptable to me.
So as part of Bonus Tracks, I'm going to write a story all about them. Their history, their complicated relationship, the whole deal. I don't know if it will be a novella or just a longer-form short story, but either way I see it as a sort of microcosm of The Rise and Fall of Radiation Canary. It will most likely be the short story that I originally envisioned the novel to be. ;D It's also the earliest story, starting in 2000 with flashbacks to the late eighties/early nineties.
So for today's post (FOUR DAYS until the novel is out!!! I cannot wait!!!), here is the first part of Naomi and Dash's origin story. Enjoy!
Summary: Dash Warren takes a big step in her career, and Naomi remembers how their partnership came to be. (3,755 words)
Lessons in Cartography
by Geonn Cannon
http://www.geonncannon.com
Copyright © 2013 Geonn Cannon
Naomi was still waiting for the surprise when Dash held her hands out to either side like a game show hostess, smiling in anticipation of her verdict. Naomi looked to the left and right and saw the same thing she'd seen after Dash unlocked the front doors and stepped into the decrepit hallway. Old classrooms with their furniture bundled in one group as if a black hole had briefly opened in the center of the room, cobwebs on every surface, a broken floor, a ceiling that was missing acoustic tiles, and... why, yes, that was a mouse peering down at her from one of the pipes. She shuddered and the vermin was already long gone, but she still moved away from the spot where she had been standing.
"It's." She could only manage the single word.
Dash rolled her eyes and finally dropped her hands. "I know it needs work--"
"Hah!"
"--but look at its potential."
Naomi swapped her sunglasses for her eyeglasses and looked around again, hoping it was like a 3D movie where the proper filter would make everything pop out. If anything the place looked even worse. "You mean the potential of knocking it down and selling the land? Sure, I suppose after the cost of demolition--"
"No," Dash said. "You're missing the big picture."
"Yeah. I'm too busy noticing the little things like the fact that a stiff breeze will collapse the building around us."
Dash ignored her. "Besides, we can't raze it. It's registered as a landmark."
"Of course it is. Dash, what did you do? How much did this place cost?"
"Don't worry about that." Dash walked down the hall. "Just try to picture it the way I am. These classrooms? We can knock down the walls--"
"In a landmark?"
"Yes. I checked, and they'll let us do whatever we want to the inside. Within reason, anyway. As long as we preserve the outside, it's fine. So we knock down these walls and turn these into offices, conference rooms." She trotted down to where the hall branched out. "Farther down from here, we have other classrooms. We can soundproof those and turn them into recording studios, production booths..."
Naomi followed Dash down the hall at a more sedate pace, trying to envision the changes she listed. When they neared the center of the building, Dash's smile grew. "And now, the best part."
"Oh, thank God. I would be terrified if anything up to now was the best part."
Three pairs of double-doors stood along the wall, like the set of Let's Make a Deal in Hell. Dash went to the middle pair and threw it open, sweeping inside like she expected to meet royalty on the other side. Naomi followed and stopped on the threshold.
"You have to be kidding me. Dashiel Warren--"
"Don't full-name me." Dash was halfway down the aisle, stopping on her approach to the stage. The curtains were still up, threadbare and moth-eaten, and the seats looked like they would either fall apart or explode if anyone tried to put any weight on them. Dash looked around the theatre. "Don't you see what this is, Naomi?"
"It's garbage, Dash."
"Now! But with time and effort--"
"You're going to go broke renovating this place. It's going to make you a laughingstock. Why would you even want to turn this place into a studio?"
Dash pushed her hands through her hair. "It's not just a studio. It's an office. It's a base of operations."
"For what?"
"Our new record label."
Naomi waited for the punchline. When it didn't come, she closed her eyes. "Dash, this is silly. You don't need a new record label."
"Screw those assholes."
"Yes, I know. But are you really going to burn bridges and cast your lot here? There are safer ways to spend your money, babe. How about the horse you wanted to buy? Let's go find a stable that doesn't need a million dollars of repairs and we'll go back to Montana and pick you out a nice gentle roan."
"I don't want a horse," Dash snapped. "Horses and motorcycles and the goddamn plane... I'm sick of it all. I'm sick of throwing my money away on shit. Just material shit that won't mean anything when I'm gone. This is my chance to really make a stand and declare myself as something more than just... just another musician who is going to fade away in a few years."
"And this building is going to do that?"
"Once we fix it up, yes." She started back up the aisle toward Naomi. "Just hear me out, okay? My whole career has been a ballet between me and the record label. Doing what they tell me to do, singing what they tell me to sing. Remember how many songs I actually liked on my first album?"
"One."
"Right. One. They told me to dress more feminine, they didn't promote me if they didn't believe in the record, and when I did well, all the money went to them and they tossed me a few cents like I was a dancing monkey. From the moment I signed on the dotted line, I was just a means to an end for them. They got rich while I was still rolling pennies."
Naomi said, "You always made me roll the pennies. You were too busy rolling other things." She pinched her fingers against her lips and sucked in her cheeks.
"Regardless of who rolled what, I was getting bupkis while the people behind the scenes, the invisible people, raked in the money. Well now... now, I'm going to change that. I'll release all my own shit, I'll make sure the people who play on my albums get properly paid. I'll be in charge of the direction my career takes. From now on, it's going to be all me. And once the label is up and running, we'll bring in more artists. Singers with true talent, bands we actually are passionate about, and we'll treat them the way we wanted to be treated."
Naomi was still surveying the damage and running a mental tally of how much it would all cost. Finally she looked down at the water-damaged carpet under her sneakers.
"You keep saying 'we.'"
"Well. Yeah. I mean..." She slapped her hands against her hips. The animation was gone from her posture, and her voice was flat. "You've been with me since the beginning, Gnome. If you're not in, I don't want to do this. I'll get rid of the building and find something else."
Naomi put her hands on her hips and did a slow turn. Finally she sighed and shook her head. "It's going to be a lot of work. Not just getting this place habitable, but once we're up and running... it's going to be a gargantuan effort."
"You'll be well-compensated."
She couldn't help laughing. "Gee, thanks. What exactly would my job be?"
"You'd be my manager. You'd do all the crazy day-to-day stuff, but you would also get to feel out the talent. I trust you."
Naomi puffed out her bottom lip and blew her bangs off her forehead. Finally she met Dash's gaze and then rolled her eyes.
"This building must have a maddening effect on the people who walk through its doors. I can't believe I'm considering it."
Dash smiled.
"That doesn't mean I agree."
"Right. But it's a good sign. I'll wear you down, Gnome. Come on. I want to show you where the offices would be."
She brushed past Naomi and left her alone in the theatre. Naomi remained behind and listened to the silence. She could hear the wind outside, howling against the brick walls of the building. The one-time school was a beautiful structure, and she could see why the neighborhood wanted to keep it as a landmark. It was a redbrick Gothic building, something she couldn't recall ever seeing before. She loved the way it blended seamless with its surroundings but, once it was noticed, it became all a person could see.
Dash came back to find her. "Naomi? You coming?"
"Damn you, Dashiel."
Dash laughed. "I knew it. Come on. Let me give you the grand tour."
Naomi turned away from the conflicting visions of what the theatre was and what it could be to follow her excited friend down the hallway. She smiled at the cycle her life had taken.
After all these years, she was still following Dash down school hallways.
#
Dash Warren didn't stand out in a crowd because she was famous; she was famous because she always had a way of making a crowd notice her. Naomi remembered with crystal clarity the first time she ever saw Dash Warren. She was tall without being lanky, wearing her long black hair in a style that was at least five years out of date but somehow worked on her. Naomi had been waiting for her current crush in the library when Dash walked in, wearing a blazer over tuxedo pants and a wrinkled white shirt. The collar was open, and the tail of a paisley-colored tie poked out from the coat pocket.
She was bent over to put her name on a sign-in sheet, smiling in response to the person she was with. When she straightened she scanned the row of tables and momentarily locked eyes with Naomi. Her smile shifted slightly to one of greeting, just a simple acknowledgement of eye contact with another human being, and she lifted her chin.
Naomi responded with a tight-lipped but polite smile, and then Dash's companion heralded her off to one of the quiet study rooms. Naomi watched her go, drumming her pen against the open page of her notebook, wondering why she had been so drawn to the girl in the suit. She didn't like androgynous women, she liked girly-girls. She liked cheerleader types with toothy grins and fluffy pink sweaters.
As if conjured by the thought, someone meeting those exact specifications appeared in front of her. Naomi had been nursing a crush on Beverly for most of their first year at college, following her as obediently as a lapdog. Now she felt actual irritation at the perky interruption to her thoughts about the dark and mysterious Suit Girl.
"Sorry," Beverly said, oblivious as ever to Naomi's ruminations. "Have you been waiting very long?"
"Uh, about an hour." She checked her watch. "I got here at the time you said we should meet."
"God, I know. I've just been so hectic, running all over the place. Hope you don't mind."
On an ordinary day, she would have just shrugged and went to work. Now she felt ambivalence. Yes, she was pissed. She had wasted a precious hour of her time waiting for someone who couldn't be bothered to honor an arrangement. But on the other hand, by being present, she had gotten a peek at something intriguing.
As Beverly unloaded her notebooks onto the table - all the subjects she needed Naomi's tutoring with - Naomi craned her neck to see if she could spot the mystery girl through the stacks.
It would be another week before they were introduced properly. Naomi was walking through the parking lot when she saw someone trying to wrestle a guitar case from the backseat of a station wagon. She didn't have anywhere to be, so she walked over.
"Give you a hand with that?"
The woman turned and Naomi realized it was Suit Girl. Today she wore a peasant blouse under a red vest, and a scarf tied so that it hung over her chest in twin tails. She flipped her chin to get the hair out of her face and smiled as she balanced the case on her knee.
"Hey. Uh, yeah... I'm just trying to get it free without causing a chain reaction that buries the entire campus."
Naomi adjusted the straps of her backpack and moved toward the car. She gingerly rearranged the items that the case was caught on, holding the edifice in place with both hands as Suit Girl slowly pulled. The case came free, and Naomi whooped in overblown enthusiasm.
"Thanks for the assist."
"No problem. Um..."
"Yeah, you can just shut the door."
"Won't it all fall out when you open the door again?"
Suit Girl shrugged. "Probably. I'm Dash."
"Just Dash?"
"Dash Warren if you're writing a biography." She winked.
Naomi reached out and to shake and awkwardly closed her fingers around Dash's left hand. "Naomi Marrow. Nice to meet you."
They moved away from the car, walking together by dint of having the same destination. Dash's guitar case bumped against her leg.
"So, uh..." She winced. "Never mind."
"No, what?"
"I was going to ask if you play. Stupid question; you have a guitar so of course you play."
Dash shrugged. "Not necessarily. There could be a tommy gun in here. Say hallo to mah littul frien'!" Naomi laughed. "Seriously, yeah. I play. I write songs. I have to get out of this place now and then, and I can't afford to go out and party. So I create my own worlds to get away."
"Cool." She tucked her hair behind her ears with quick, practiced sweeps of her hand. "So what are you studying?"
"I'm here for music, of course. But I'm also taking history classes, and gender studies."
"Sounds like a full plate. No wonder you need to get away. I'm just a dull old business major."
"Nothing boring about that. Managers make the world go 'round."
Naomi was inordinately grateful for the compliment. She followed Dash into the building and up the stairs, where they were finally forced to part. Dash stopped and fished a flyer out of her vest pocket. "I have a deal with a local diner where they feed me if I provide two hours of ambiance. I figure it's a nice deal. I get food plus I can see how people react to some of my songs. I'm there on Thursdays, Fridays and Sundays. You should come by. The meal won't be free, but at least there's no cover charge."
It was the closest Naomi had ever come to being asked out on a date; she always had to do the asking in the past. She took the flyer and hoped she conveyed nonchalance as she looked at the information.
"Cool. I eat dinner."
Dash laughed. "So we have that in common, huh? I'll see you around, Naomi."
"Yeah. See you around." She looked up and Dash was already walking down the hall, the guitar swinging from her arm like it was a part of her body. Naomi tapped the flyer against her palm before she spun on the ball of her foot and went to find something to wear that would be appropriate both for dinner and for an unofficial concert.
She refused to think of it as a first date.
#
Dash dressed conservatively for her performance. She came out through the kitchen wearing a pale blue blouse and black slacks. It was subtle enough to make her part of the scenery, with just enough pop to ensure she didn't fade into the wallpaper. A small stage was set up in one corner of the dining room, bracketed on either side by potted plants.
Naomi watched as Dash crossed the room to take her position on the stool, setting up her guitar amid the clanking of silverware and the soft murmur of conversation. Naomi convinced Beverly to come with her, too excited about seeing Dash play to be self-conscious about the fact she was instigating a date-type situation with her crush. She watched as Dash situated herself, then adjusted the microphone so it was near her lips.
"Good evening, everyone. My name is Dash Warren. I promise to enhance your meal, not disturb it. No rough stuff tonight." She smiled and began to play a soft melody. It was haunting. Naomi rested her chin in her hand as she watched Dash play the opening of a familiar ballad.
Beverly snapped her fingers and chuckled when Naomi blinked in surprise. The song was half over, and she realized she'd been neglecting her companion.
"Sorry. What?"
"I didn't say anything." Beverly twisted to see Dash. "So that's the chick that's had you flustered all week. She's cute. You should ask her out."
Naomi blushed. "Right. Like I could just walk up to her and ask her out."
"That is how it's done. Millions of people do it every day."
"I think that's a bit hyperbolic."
"Well, billions of people have done it since the world began. What's the harm?"
"She could say no."
"But she could just as easily say yes."
Naomi shook her head. "No. I want to be her friend. If I ask her out now and she says no, it would ruin that."
Beverly made a neutral noise, neither approving nor condemning, but Naomi knew what she was thinking. It was the same thing that happened with them. Naomi was attracted, decided to build a friendship foundation, then became firmly entrenched in that mire so it seemed unlikely they would ever become more.
They ordered their food and talked about school, making idle conversation while Dash sang covers of familiar songs that she gave her own twist. She turned "Jessie's Girl" into a heart-wrenching ballad, and then moved on to "Only the Lonely." Their food had just arrived when Dash leaned closer to the microphone.
"I'm about to take a little break to rest my voice, but first I wanted to play something special for someone who came out specifically to hear me. This one's to you, Naomi. Thanks for coming."
Beverly grinned. "Oh, yeah. She's definitely into you."
Naomi tried to sink down under the table without drawing attention to herself.
Dash came over when she took her break, smiling as she approached. "Hey. Thanks for coming out." She saw Beverly and held out her hand. "Hi. Dash Warren."
"Beverly. You sounded great."
"Oh, thanks. Thank you." She rested her hand on the back of Naomi's chair. "I'm just going to get something to eat..."
Beverly said, "You should join us."
"I wouldn't want to intrude."
"You're not intruding. I insist. Naomi does, too. Right, Naomi?"
"Um."
Dash grinned. "Doesn't really sound insistent to me."
Naomi shook her head. "It's fine. I just didn't want to, uh, impose on you. I guess. I'd love it if you ate with us."
"Okay. I'll just go flag down a waiter."
Naomi watched Dash cross the dining room, pausing now and then to speak with other people who apparently wanted to compliment her performance. When she faced forward again she saw Beverly watching her with that infuriating smile.
"What?"
"You're smitten."
Naomi rolled her eyes and picked at her food. "Please. She's probably barely aware I exist. Just drop it, okay?"
Beverly sighed. "I don't know why you won't just take a leap."
"Because when I took a leap with you, you shot me down. Maybe I'm still smarting from that." She stabbed her potato and kept her head down, feeling the warmth spread across her cheeks. She knew that if she looked up to see why Beverly was so silent and still she would either apologize or start crying, and she didn't want to do either. "I'm single right now, and I'm happy that way. Okay? So just... drop it."
"Okay."
Naomi hated that feeling she got in the back of her throat when she tried to fight tears. She took a sip of her water and tightened her jaw, looking to the left and right to see if anyone had overheard the outburst.
Suddenly the chair to Naomi's right and Beverly's left was pulled out and Dash sat down. "I hope you don't mind, but I took care of your bill. I told them you were my guests, so..." She looked at them both. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," Naomi said.
"I just have to get going," Beverly said.
Naomi finally looked at her. "Please... don't."
"No, I have to be up early. It's not... I have class." She smiled at Naomi. "It was really nice to meet you. You're going places, I can tell."
"Thanks. Tell that to the labels rejecting the tapes of my music."
Beverly chuckled. "You'll find the right one." She put her hand on Naomi's shoulder and squeezed. "I'll call you tomorrow, 'kay?"
"Yeah." She reached up and patted Beverly's hand.
Once she was gone, Dash said, "I feel like I interrupted something pretty heavy."
"It's fine. We just have a history. And sometimes all that means is that you know how to hurt each other with the fewest possible words."
Dash smiled. "Oh, yeah. Well. I'm glad you stuck around anyway. You don't have to stay for the whole set."
"It's okay. I don't have anywhere else to go."
"Good. So you have any requests?"
"I liked that Roy Orbison song. Although... do you know any Patsy Cline?"
Dash scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I'm a singer, aren't I? Of course I know Patsy. I'll give you a little 'Walking After Midnight' when I get back up there."
Naomi grinned. "Cool. Thanks." They ate for a while, and Naomi scanned the rest of the room. "So where are your other groupies?"
"My what?" She crunched a piece of ice from her water and popped a shrimp into her mouth.
"Your groupies. You know, the other people you gave the flyer to so they could come cheer you on."
Dash shook her head. "I didn't give out any others."
Naomi said, "Oh."
"I normally don't like summoning people to come watch me. It feels needy. And then the poor fools have to sit here like a captive audience until I'm done. Then if I suck, they have to come up with reasons it was good."
"So why did you invite me?"
Dash stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know. At the time, you were about to walk away. Giving you a flyer seemed like a good way to make sure I'd see you again."
Naomi was sure she blushed at that, but she tried to hide it. "I'm glad you did."
Dash picked up her glass and held it out. Naomi tapped hers against the side and chuckled as she took a drink. She knew that whatever her relationship with Dash ended up being, it was going to be something special.
So as part of Bonus Tracks, I'm going to write a story all about them. Their history, their complicated relationship, the whole deal. I don't know if it will be a novella or just a longer-form short story, but either way I see it as a sort of microcosm of The Rise and Fall of Radiation Canary. It will most likely be the short story that I originally envisioned the novel to be. ;D It's also the earliest story, starting in 2000 with flashbacks to the late eighties/early nineties.
So for today's post (FOUR DAYS until the novel is out!!! I cannot wait!!!), here is the first part of Naomi and Dash's origin story. Enjoy!
Summary: Dash Warren takes a big step in her career, and Naomi remembers how their partnership came to be. (3,755 words)
Lessons in Cartography
by Geonn Cannon
http://www.geonncannon.com
Copyright © 2013 Geonn Cannon
Naomi was still waiting for the surprise when Dash held her hands out to either side like a game show hostess, smiling in anticipation of her verdict. Naomi looked to the left and right and saw the same thing she'd seen after Dash unlocked the front doors and stepped into the decrepit hallway. Old classrooms with their furniture bundled in one group as if a black hole had briefly opened in the center of the room, cobwebs on every surface, a broken floor, a ceiling that was missing acoustic tiles, and... why, yes, that was a mouse peering down at her from one of the pipes. She shuddered and the vermin was already long gone, but she still moved away from the spot where she had been standing.
"It's." She could only manage the single word.
Dash rolled her eyes and finally dropped her hands. "I know it needs work--"
"Hah!"
"--but look at its potential."
Naomi swapped her sunglasses for her eyeglasses and looked around again, hoping it was like a 3D movie where the proper filter would make everything pop out. If anything the place looked even worse. "You mean the potential of knocking it down and selling the land? Sure, I suppose after the cost of demolition--"
"No," Dash said. "You're missing the big picture."
"Yeah. I'm too busy noticing the little things like the fact that a stiff breeze will collapse the building around us."
Dash ignored her. "Besides, we can't raze it. It's registered as a landmark."
"Of course it is. Dash, what did you do? How much did this place cost?"
"Don't worry about that." Dash walked down the hall. "Just try to picture it the way I am. These classrooms? We can knock down the walls--"
"In a landmark?"
"Yes. I checked, and they'll let us do whatever we want to the inside. Within reason, anyway. As long as we preserve the outside, it's fine. So we knock down these walls and turn these into offices, conference rooms." She trotted down to where the hall branched out. "Farther down from here, we have other classrooms. We can soundproof those and turn them into recording studios, production booths..."
Naomi followed Dash down the hall at a more sedate pace, trying to envision the changes she listed. When they neared the center of the building, Dash's smile grew. "And now, the best part."
"Oh, thank God. I would be terrified if anything up to now was the best part."
Three pairs of double-doors stood along the wall, like the set of Let's Make a Deal in Hell. Dash went to the middle pair and threw it open, sweeping inside like she expected to meet royalty on the other side. Naomi followed and stopped on the threshold.
"You have to be kidding me. Dashiel Warren--"
"Don't full-name me." Dash was halfway down the aisle, stopping on her approach to the stage. The curtains were still up, threadbare and moth-eaten, and the seats looked like they would either fall apart or explode if anyone tried to put any weight on them. Dash looked around the theatre. "Don't you see what this is, Naomi?"
"It's garbage, Dash."
"Now! But with time and effort--"
"You're going to go broke renovating this place. It's going to make you a laughingstock. Why would you even want to turn this place into a studio?"
Dash pushed her hands through her hair. "It's not just a studio. It's an office. It's a base of operations."
"For what?"
"Our new record label."
Naomi waited for the punchline. When it didn't come, she closed her eyes. "Dash, this is silly. You don't need a new record label."
"Screw those assholes."
"Yes, I know. But are you really going to burn bridges and cast your lot here? There are safer ways to spend your money, babe. How about the horse you wanted to buy? Let's go find a stable that doesn't need a million dollars of repairs and we'll go back to Montana and pick you out a nice gentle roan."
"I don't want a horse," Dash snapped. "Horses and motorcycles and the goddamn plane... I'm sick of it all. I'm sick of throwing my money away on shit. Just material shit that won't mean anything when I'm gone. This is my chance to really make a stand and declare myself as something more than just... just another musician who is going to fade away in a few years."
"And this building is going to do that?"
"Once we fix it up, yes." She started back up the aisle toward Naomi. "Just hear me out, okay? My whole career has been a ballet between me and the record label. Doing what they tell me to do, singing what they tell me to sing. Remember how many songs I actually liked on my first album?"
"One."
"Right. One. They told me to dress more feminine, they didn't promote me if they didn't believe in the record, and when I did well, all the money went to them and they tossed me a few cents like I was a dancing monkey. From the moment I signed on the dotted line, I was just a means to an end for them. They got rich while I was still rolling pennies."
Naomi said, "You always made me roll the pennies. You were too busy rolling other things." She pinched her fingers against her lips and sucked in her cheeks.
"Regardless of who rolled what, I was getting bupkis while the people behind the scenes, the invisible people, raked in the money. Well now... now, I'm going to change that. I'll release all my own shit, I'll make sure the people who play on my albums get properly paid. I'll be in charge of the direction my career takes. From now on, it's going to be all me. And once the label is up and running, we'll bring in more artists. Singers with true talent, bands we actually are passionate about, and we'll treat them the way we wanted to be treated."
Naomi was still surveying the damage and running a mental tally of how much it would all cost. Finally she looked down at the water-damaged carpet under her sneakers.
"You keep saying 'we.'"
"Well. Yeah. I mean..." She slapped her hands against her hips. The animation was gone from her posture, and her voice was flat. "You've been with me since the beginning, Gnome. If you're not in, I don't want to do this. I'll get rid of the building and find something else."
Naomi put her hands on her hips and did a slow turn. Finally she sighed and shook her head. "It's going to be a lot of work. Not just getting this place habitable, but once we're up and running... it's going to be a gargantuan effort."
"You'll be well-compensated."
She couldn't help laughing. "Gee, thanks. What exactly would my job be?"
"You'd be my manager. You'd do all the crazy day-to-day stuff, but you would also get to feel out the talent. I trust you."
Naomi puffed out her bottom lip and blew her bangs off her forehead. Finally she met Dash's gaze and then rolled her eyes.
"This building must have a maddening effect on the people who walk through its doors. I can't believe I'm considering it."
Dash smiled.
"That doesn't mean I agree."
"Right. But it's a good sign. I'll wear you down, Gnome. Come on. I want to show you where the offices would be."
She brushed past Naomi and left her alone in the theatre. Naomi remained behind and listened to the silence. She could hear the wind outside, howling against the brick walls of the building. The one-time school was a beautiful structure, and she could see why the neighborhood wanted to keep it as a landmark. It was a redbrick Gothic building, something she couldn't recall ever seeing before. She loved the way it blended seamless with its surroundings but, once it was noticed, it became all a person could see.
Dash came back to find her. "Naomi? You coming?"
"Damn you, Dashiel."
Dash laughed. "I knew it. Come on. Let me give you the grand tour."
Naomi turned away from the conflicting visions of what the theatre was and what it could be to follow her excited friend down the hallway. She smiled at the cycle her life had taken.
After all these years, she was still following Dash down school hallways.
#
Dash Warren didn't stand out in a crowd because she was famous; she was famous because she always had a way of making a crowd notice her. Naomi remembered with crystal clarity the first time she ever saw Dash Warren. She was tall without being lanky, wearing her long black hair in a style that was at least five years out of date but somehow worked on her. Naomi had been waiting for her current crush in the library when Dash walked in, wearing a blazer over tuxedo pants and a wrinkled white shirt. The collar was open, and the tail of a paisley-colored tie poked out from the coat pocket.
She was bent over to put her name on a sign-in sheet, smiling in response to the person she was with. When she straightened she scanned the row of tables and momentarily locked eyes with Naomi. Her smile shifted slightly to one of greeting, just a simple acknowledgement of eye contact with another human being, and she lifted her chin.
Naomi responded with a tight-lipped but polite smile, and then Dash's companion heralded her off to one of the quiet study rooms. Naomi watched her go, drumming her pen against the open page of her notebook, wondering why she had been so drawn to the girl in the suit. She didn't like androgynous women, she liked girly-girls. She liked cheerleader types with toothy grins and fluffy pink sweaters.
As if conjured by the thought, someone meeting those exact specifications appeared in front of her. Naomi had been nursing a crush on Beverly for most of their first year at college, following her as obediently as a lapdog. Now she felt actual irritation at the perky interruption to her thoughts about the dark and mysterious Suit Girl.
"Sorry," Beverly said, oblivious as ever to Naomi's ruminations. "Have you been waiting very long?"
"Uh, about an hour." She checked her watch. "I got here at the time you said we should meet."
"God, I know. I've just been so hectic, running all over the place. Hope you don't mind."
On an ordinary day, she would have just shrugged and went to work. Now she felt ambivalence. Yes, she was pissed. She had wasted a precious hour of her time waiting for someone who couldn't be bothered to honor an arrangement. But on the other hand, by being present, she had gotten a peek at something intriguing.
As Beverly unloaded her notebooks onto the table - all the subjects she needed Naomi's tutoring with - Naomi craned her neck to see if she could spot the mystery girl through the stacks.
It would be another week before they were introduced properly. Naomi was walking through the parking lot when she saw someone trying to wrestle a guitar case from the backseat of a station wagon. She didn't have anywhere to be, so she walked over.
"Give you a hand with that?"
The woman turned and Naomi realized it was Suit Girl. Today she wore a peasant blouse under a red vest, and a scarf tied so that it hung over her chest in twin tails. She flipped her chin to get the hair out of her face and smiled as she balanced the case on her knee.
"Hey. Uh, yeah... I'm just trying to get it free without causing a chain reaction that buries the entire campus."
Naomi adjusted the straps of her backpack and moved toward the car. She gingerly rearranged the items that the case was caught on, holding the edifice in place with both hands as Suit Girl slowly pulled. The case came free, and Naomi whooped in overblown enthusiasm.
"Thanks for the assist."
"No problem. Um..."
"Yeah, you can just shut the door."
"Won't it all fall out when you open the door again?"
Suit Girl shrugged. "Probably. I'm Dash."
"Just Dash?"
"Dash Warren if you're writing a biography." She winked.
Naomi reached out and to shake and awkwardly closed her fingers around Dash's left hand. "Naomi Marrow. Nice to meet you."
They moved away from the car, walking together by dint of having the same destination. Dash's guitar case bumped against her leg.
"So, uh..." She winced. "Never mind."
"No, what?"
"I was going to ask if you play. Stupid question; you have a guitar so of course you play."
Dash shrugged. "Not necessarily. There could be a tommy gun in here. Say hallo to mah littul frien'!" Naomi laughed. "Seriously, yeah. I play. I write songs. I have to get out of this place now and then, and I can't afford to go out and party. So I create my own worlds to get away."
"Cool." She tucked her hair behind her ears with quick, practiced sweeps of her hand. "So what are you studying?"
"I'm here for music, of course. But I'm also taking history classes, and gender studies."
"Sounds like a full plate. No wonder you need to get away. I'm just a dull old business major."
"Nothing boring about that. Managers make the world go 'round."
Naomi was inordinately grateful for the compliment. She followed Dash into the building and up the stairs, where they were finally forced to part. Dash stopped and fished a flyer out of her vest pocket. "I have a deal with a local diner where they feed me if I provide two hours of ambiance. I figure it's a nice deal. I get food plus I can see how people react to some of my songs. I'm there on Thursdays, Fridays and Sundays. You should come by. The meal won't be free, but at least there's no cover charge."
It was the closest Naomi had ever come to being asked out on a date; she always had to do the asking in the past. She took the flyer and hoped she conveyed nonchalance as she looked at the information.
"Cool. I eat dinner."
Dash laughed. "So we have that in common, huh? I'll see you around, Naomi."
"Yeah. See you around." She looked up and Dash was already walking down the hall, the guitar swinging from her arm like it was a part of her body. Naomi tapped the flyer against her palm before she spun on the ball of her foot and went to find something to wear that would be appropriate both for dinner and for an unofficial concert.
She refused to think of it as a first date.
#
Dash dressed conservatively for her performance. She came out through the kitchen wearing a pale blue blouse and black slacks. It was subtle enough to make her part of the scenery, with just enough pop to ensure she didn't fade into the wallpaper. A small stage was set up in one corner of the dining room, bracketed on either side by potted plants.
Naomi watched as Dash crossed the room to take her position on the stool, setting up her guitar amid the clanking of silverware and the soft murmur of conversation. Naomi convinced Beverly to come with her, too excited about seeing Dash play to be self-conscious about the fact she was instigating a date-type situation with her crush. She watched as Dash situated herself, then adjusted the microphone so it was near her lips.
"Good evening, everyone. My name is Dash Warren. I promise to enhance your meal, not disturb it. No rough stuff tonight." She smiled and began to play a soft melody. It was haunting. Naomi rested her chin in her hand as she watched Dash play the opening of a familiar ballad.
Beverly snapped her fingers and chuckled when Naomi blinked in surprise. The song was half over, and she realized she'd been neglecting her companion.
"Sorry. What?"
"I didn't say anything." Beverly twisted to see Dash. "So that's the chick that's had you flustered all week. She's cute. You should ask her out."
Naomi blushed. "Right. Like I could just walk up to her and ask her out."
"That is how it's done. Millions of people do it every day."
"I think that's a bit hyperbolic."
"Well, billions of people have done it since the world began. What's the harm?"
"She could say no."
"But she could just as easily say yes."
Naomi shook her head. "No. I want to be her friend. If I ask her out now and she says no, it would ruin that."
Beverly made a neutral noise, neither approving nor condemning, but Naomi knew what she was thinking. It was the same thing that happened with them. Naomi was attracted, decided to build a friendship foundation, then became firmly entrenched in that mire so it seemed unlikely they would ever become more.
They ordered their food and talked about school, making idle conversation while Dash sang covers of familiar songs that she gave her own twist. She turned "Jessie's Girl" into a heart-wrenching ballad, and then moved on to "Only the Lonely." Their food had just arrived when Dash leaned closer to the microphone.
"I'm about to take a little break to rest my voice, but first I wanted to play something special for someone who came out specifically to hear me. This one's to you, Naomi. Thanks for coming."
Beverly grinned. "Oh, yeah. She's definitely into you."
Naomi tried to sink down under the table without drawing attention to herself.
Dash came over when she took her break, smiling as she approached. "Hey. Thanks for coming out." She saw Beverly and held out her hand. "Hi. Dash Warren."
"Beverly. You sounded great."
"Oh, thanks. Thank you." She rested her hand on the back of Naomi's chair. "I'm just going to get something to eat..."
Beverly said, "You should join us."
"I wouldn't want to intrude."
"You're not intruding. I insist. Naomi does, too. Right, Naomi?"
"Um."
Dash grinned. "Doesn't really sound insistent to me."
Naomi shook her head. "It's fine. I just didn't want to, uh, impose on you. I guess. I'd love it if you ate with us."
"Okay. I'll just go flag down a waiter."
Naomi watched Dash cross the dining room, pausing now and then to speak with other people who apparently wanted to compliment her performance. When she faced forward again she saw Beverly watching her with that infuriating smile.
"What?"
"You're smitten."
Naomi rolled her eyes and picked at her food. "Please. She's probably barely aware I exist. Just drop it, okay?"
Beverly sighed. "I don't know why you won't just take a leap."
"Because when I took a leap with you, you shot me down. Maybe I'm still smarting from that." She stabbed her potato and kept her head down, feeling the warmth spread across her cheeks. She knew that if she looked up to see why Beverly was so silent and still she would either apologize or start crying, and she didn't want to do either. "I'm single right now, and I'm happy that way. Okay? So just... drop it."
"Okay."
Naomi hated that feeling she got in the back of her throat when she tried to fight tears. She took a sip of her water and tightened her jaw, looking to the left and right to see if anyone had overheard the outburst.
Suddenly the chair to Naomi's right and Beverly's left was pulled out and Dash sat down. "I hope you don't mind, but I took care of your bill. I told them you were my guests, so..." She looked at them both. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," Naomi said.
"I just have to get going," Beverly said.
Naomi finally looked at her. "Please... don't."
"No, I have to be up early. It's not... I have class." She smiled at Naomi. "It was really nice to meet you. You're going places, I can tell."
"Thanks. Tell that to the labels rejecting the tapes of my music."
Beverly chuckled. "You'll find the right one." She put her hand on Naomi's shoulder and squeezed. "I'll call you tomorrow, 'kay?"
"Yeah." She reached up and patted Beverly's hand.
Once she was gone, Dash said, "I feel like I interrupted something pretty heavy."
"It's fine. We just have a history. And sometimes all that means is that you know how to hurt each other with the fewest possible words."
Dash smiled. "Oh, yeah. Well. I'm glad you stuck around anyway. You don't have to stay for the whole set."
"It's okay. I don't have anywhere else to go."
"Good. So you have any requests?"
"I liked that Roy Orbison song. Although... do you know any Patsy Cline?"
Dash scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I'm a singer, aren't I? Of course I know Patsy. I'll give you a little 'Walking After Midnight' when I get back up there."
Naomi grinned. "Cool. Thanks." They ate for a while, and Naomi scanned the rest of the room. "So where are your other groupies?"
"My what?" She crunched a piece of ice from her water and popped a shrimp into her mouth.
"Your groupies. You know, the other people you gave the flyer to so they could come cheer you on."
Dash shook her head. "I didn't give out any others."
Naomi said, "Oh."
"I normally don't like summoning people to come watch me. It feels needy. And then the poor fools have to sit here like a captive audience until I'm done. Then if I suck, they have to come up with reasons it was good."
"So why did you invite me?"
Dash stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know. At the time, you were about to walk away. Giving you a flyer seemed like a good way to make sure I'd see you again."
Naomi was sure she blushed at that, but she tried to hide it. "I'm glad you did."
Dash picked up her glass and held it out. Naomi tapped hers against the side and chuckled as she took a drink. She knew that whatever her relationship with Dash ended up being, it was going to be something special.