I Must Admit I Was Charmed By Your Advances, Your Advantage Left Me Helplessly Into You
Chapter: 3/?
Word Count: 2,347
Song: Title Track- Death Cab For Cutie
Summary: the list of things that piss her off about him is long. the things that turn her on are gaining on it....
The nerves that she feels while getting ready for the party the next night are stupid. They’re juvenile and wrong and stupid. It’s just a stupid date. Granted, yes, her first, first date in over three years, but still. She’s a woman now, not some love struck high school girl waiting for her prom date to show up.
And it’s just one date. He won’t even get another one and she’s planning on bailing early anyways, she’ll make up a stomach bug if she has to.
That’s why she shouldn’t care this much about which top will go with the jeans that she’s wearing. All of them do, she tells herself but she still stands staring at four different options laid out on her bed. She’s close to pulling her hair out. She would if she didn’t spend an hour doing it, curling it and brushing it back so it’s in waves down her back. Her makeup is annoyingly flawless and the heels that she’s wearing under her tight skinny jeans are already starting to hurt her feet. But she can’t take them off, can’t put her hair in a thoughtless bun or mess up her lipstick because she feels like she needs to look good for him. That charming, good looking, man. Annoying and obnoxious.
She thinks seriously about cancelling. Standing in front of her bed fully dressed except for a shirt looking down at four perfectly acceptable options is too much for her. She could still catch him before he left his apartment. If he’s like a normal man he’s probably running late and it wouldn’t be a big deal if she called to cancel. Or, if he’s already left his place she could just hide when he knocks on her door. She could pretend like she’s not home or that he’s at the wrong address. But then she’ll have to find a new job because no doubt he’ll come by the store to talk to her. And then she’d also have to find a new family because Shannon would never let her live that down.
She thinks about it too long and before she can decide on anything, cancelling or a shirt there’s a knock on the door and her head whips around to the alarm clock by her bed. He’s ten minutes early. She can add punctuality to the list of things that bother her about him.
She grabs the shirt that’s closest to her, a low cut v-neck dark gray shirt and pulls it over her head careful not to mess up her hair as she’s walking towards the door, straightening it out just as she opens the door.
His hand is raised to knock again but when he sees her he immediately lowers it with an apologetic smile on his face.
“Hey, I know I’m early but…”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. It’s better than being late.” She lies.
“Or not showing up at all.” He laughs. “You look…just…wow.”
“What? Is this okay? Am I too casual?” Not that she really cares. She looks him over. He’s wearing torn jeans and a black t-shirt. He’s not exactly going to a Broadway show or anything.
“No. No. You look perfect. Perfect.” He repeats again and she feels her cheeks burn. She hates that too.
“I’m not…it’s just jeans and a t-shirt.”
“No, I know, that’s why you look so amazing. It’s like you’re not even trying.”
She tried pretty hard.
“I’ll be right back; I just need to get my bag.”
“Okay.” He awkwardly wanders into her apartment, looking back towards where she walked off when he sees her ipod sitting on the kitchen
table. He picks it up and starts to scroll through it. She’s got a wide mix, alternative, rock, country, she doesn’t seem to discriminate. He flips to her playlists, ‘summer of 2009’, ‘concerts’, ‘fall of 2010’, ‘working out’, ‘summer mix’, all ordinary and predictable and he scrolls to her 25 most played songs and laughs at number 4.
“Do you see something you like?” She’s standing in front of him with her hands on her hips, a leather bag slung over her shoulder and across her body.
“Why is Don’t Want to Miss a Thing your fourth highest played song?”
Her frown turns to panic. “Give that back.” She lunges for it but he holds it behind him and she’s not willing to get into a wrestling match with him.
“What’s the deal?”
“Everyone has a guilty pleasure song.”
“Sure. But this?”
“It’s a good song, alright. People judging it is what makes it sound like crap. Don’t act like it’s not on your iPod Mr. Musician. Don’t be such a music snob.”
“Okay, okay.” He gives up with a laugh and puts her iPod back down. “I’ll just have to make a mental note to play it at our wedding.”
He’s joking. Completely and utterly joking but she narrows her eyes at him, all expression leaving her face. “
“I was kidding. Don’t…we won’t play it at our wedding.”
“Let’s just go. Lock the door behind you.” She says and he’s alone in her apartment.
She’s by the elevator with her arms folded over her chest looking straight ahead at the unopened doors.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I’m not offended.”
“You’re something.”
“I’m…” She looks down at him. She’s taller in heels and he feels a little self conscious. She feels powerful. “I’m just ready to go.”
“But…”
“Just drop it. Okay?” She gives him a tight smile and he sighs.
“Okay.”
They don’t speak again as they make their way to the party. The cab ride is deadly silent and she’s working on her stomach bug and he’s racking his brain trying to think of ways to improve this. She follows him up to an apartment on the eight floors, the music and voices are heard from the end of the hallway and he looks back at her sheepishly and she feels her stomach start to hurt for real.
The small apartment is packed and loud and she feels like its college and it’s going to be shut down by the cops promptly at midnight. She follows him again; to what she’s assuming will be the kitchen to get drinks and even though she almost loses him she still refuses to hold his hand, which reaches back behind him to her. That’s too close, too much.
“I didn’t know that this was going to be so crowded.”
“It’s fine.” She says as she takes a plastic cup from him, smelling it before she puts it to her lips and he laughs.
“You think I spiked it?”
She shrugs. “I don’t really know you.”
“I hope you’re kidding.”
She shrugs again and starts to work her way back through the party. Now he has to follow.
She turns heads. Drunken heads, she knows that and that’s why she’s not really flattered but that’s why he has to watch her and everyone around her closely. He knows these people. Most of them. He knows how they are sober and drunk and he knows that when a new, beautiful woman is introduced into the environment they pounce. But he gets distracted by the way her jeans are clinging to her hips and he misses Andy sliding up next to her, alcohol full in his cup and a joint between his fingers.
“Hey. How’d you get here?”
“Ummm.” She looks at Lee with worry in her eyes and that makes him feel a little pride. Like she’s looking at him to help her, protect her, she needs him.
“I brought her.” He holds out his arm and she begrudgingly takes it and slides up to him.
“Whoa. You finally gave into him?”
“He wore me down.”
“Nice. He’s a charming fucker isn’t it?”
She smiles uncomfortably.
“Well, come on, come on, let’s go sit down, talk.” Andy pulls on her arm but she keeps a tight hold to Lee’s. “Don’t worry, he can come too. We’re just going to play a little poker. You know how to do that?”
“No.”
“Well I can teach you.”
“Oh. I don’t...” She looks at Lee again for help.
“We’re going to go walk around first.”
“Where are you going to walk here? There is no walking room.” Andy keeps tugging her away from him and she keeps holding onto Lee. “Only sitting room.” He pushes them past some people to a makeshift card table in the living room. There are only two chairs open. “And it looks like you guys are gonna have to share a seat.”
Neither one of them sees a way out, and even if she did she wouldn’t be able to find the door in the sea of people. So…he sits down at the table and she’s forced to sit on his lap. It’s not as uncomfortable or awkward as she thinks it’s going to be; as she wants it to be. One of his arms drapes across her back and the other holds out the cards that he’s just been dealt. Her arms have to wrap around his neck, her legs crossing to give…one of them more room.
She sits there; drinking and watching him play, getting more and more comfortable with her surroundings and the people that are pouring her drinks and the feel of his body against hers. She even starts to whisper what she thinks he should do with the cards that he’s holding, making him laugh, making her shiver in return. The vibrations through his chest to her side are too much.
She loses track of time but she’s sure it’s after midnight with no cops and she’s around three huge cups of beers in, she already lost count of
that as well, and she feels like she’s actually having fun. Something she’s not at all used to and it’s all because of the guy whose lap she’s sitting on and she suddenly gets really bold and really drunk when she ducks her head into his shoulder and presses her lips to his neck and his arm tightens around her back, his jaw setting, concentrating so hard on the cards to prevent an embarrassing situation.
“Hey.” Andy calls across the table to get their attention. “Don’t you go starting something you can’t finish. Dammit.” He curses when someone at the table lays down their hand and beats him. “You son of a bitch. Fuck you and your poker face.”
“Chill the fuck out man.” Someone else says and he reaches across the table to him, handing him a small bag of white powder and Molly is only
half paying attention really. She’s got Lee under her and the women next to her rambling on about how parallel lines are the saddest things in the world because they never cross or touch but they spend their entire lives right next to each other but the other half of her attention is immediately on that bag and what she knows is in it.
Andy nods to Lee. “You in on this Lee?”
Instant stomach ache. She gets off his lap. “I need to go.”
“What?” Lee looks up at her and Andy shakes his head.
“I just need to go.” Her eyes are still on the bag in Andy’s hand. “Don’t follow me.”
He doesn’t listen and he’s after her, biting on her heels, his hand trying desperately to get a hold of her arm and she makes her way slowly to the door.
“Molly.” He’s finally able to get his words out when they get into the hallway and she angrily pushes the elevator button. “What’s the matter?”
“What’s the matter? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I…” He sighs as he follows her into the elevator and she crosses her arms again. “Is this about what happened back there? I’m not into that. I don’t do that.”
“It seems like you do. I can’t get into drugs, Lee. I won’t do that.”
“I’m not saying you have to, you shouldn’t have to, no one should and you won’t. I don’t do that, I swear.”
“Then why did he offer it to you?”
“Because he’s stupid and drunk and high and he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.”
“I don’t care.”
“God…look.” He grabs her arms so she has to look at him but she still manages to look down at the floor. “I’ll be honest with you, Molly. I used to do that.”
Her eyes widen and then narrow and she tenses under his touch.
“But I don’t do it anymore. I stopped. Two years ago I swear to you. I haven’t touched the stuff and if I knew that was going to happen tonight, that my stupid ass friends would bring that shit out I wouldn’t have taken you here. You didn’t need to see that.”
“You just quit?”
“There was a lot of long talks with my mother and family and they all got me help and it was hard as hell but I did it and I’m clean.”
“But your friends…”
“They’re still in it. I try and help them, Molly, I really do but you can’t make an addict do anything they don’t want to do. I can’t help them until they want me to and I really do try all the time. I’ll go back in there and bitch them out now but they still wouldn’t listen.”
She doesn’t say anything and the elevator stops and the doors slide open and she shakes her way out of his grasps and gets out of the elevator.
“Molly.” He calls after her. “You believe me, don’t you?”
“I don’t….” Her shoulders slump. “I don’t know if I care.”
“You must care if you just stormed out of there.”
She hates that he uses logic against her. Add it to the list.
“Lee…”
“See me again.”
“I said one chance.”
“And this chance got fucked up. See me again, another second chance.”
She bites her lip. “Goodnight Lee. Nice try. Don’t follow me.”
This time he listens.