27: Scoring Points

Jesse

 

       It is really not my day. When I'd gone to pick up Ginger, she'd asked me where the rest of her costume was. She'd asked me not to get something too short! How was I to know she was going to complain about what the top looked like? I was just so happy she was helping out that I offered to get the thing for her as a thank you.

        Not that it mattered after all... For a while there, I wondered if Bryce took care of finding someone for me for me. Why else have the new waitress dress up like that? And she's blonde. And her eyes are green. And her name is Marie. And she has great legs. Unfortunately, those great legs have knees... mean knees, surprisingly-powerful, well-aiming knees.

       "Get up, Jesse," I hear Bryce order. I don't want to. I think I'll just lay here on the floor for a while, thanks. Like an idiot, I get up.

       "Shit," I should've expected this. Of course, I deserve a good punch in the jaw. He went easy on me, even if I lose my balance anyway and fall on the floor. Then Lynne comes over and starts trying to clean my face up. Lynne has a great rack.

        I seriously need to get laid.

      I turn my head and watch Desmond stomp after Ginger after she disappears behind the building. Well, there goes my sort-of partner in crime. I look over at Marie now. At first, I think she looks like she doesn't know if she should laugh or be concerned, but wait no... that's not it, there's more to it than that. As soon as she sees me really looking at her, the look of pain I see in her eyes quickly leaves to be replaced by a calm mask. Interesting.

       Bryce distracts me from further wondering what that look was by making me get up again and apologize to Erin. Geez, Bryce. Can't you see she's uncomfortable? I was gonna do this anyway, but on my own schedule, when I thought Erin could handle it. Now you're forcing her to. I don't know if I completely buy her acceptance of my apology, but I drop it. I need to sit down anyway.

        Unfortunately, I don't get to yet. What the hell? I need to get laid, but not that bad. 

        Yet.

        I decline the emasculating flowers as politely as I can. I really don't need this crazy woman and her probable loads of baggage. I glance out of the corner of my eye to see if Marie saw any of this. She didn't. She looks like she's getting hassled by an underage kid trying to pass himself off as eighteen. 

Marie

       Yeah, right. You're not any older than my little brother. I'll go get you some carbonated kool-aid.

       The place has picked up all of a sudden. Too many people stand around without drinks in their hands. This is my first Friday night, and I'm not about to screw it up.

       Only a few Fridays ago, I was out with Dawson... then that bitch Cristina showed up.... Don't think about him, about anybody. Just. Work.

         I walk over to Jones. He winks at me like he understands completely when I ask him to fix me something that looks like an adult drink, but isn't, for the kid behind me.
       "You know," he tells me as he makes the drink, "I know you're upset with Bryce about the whole outfit prank thing, but you look really good in that."
       "Um," What? "thanks... I guess," I stammer back. He laughs a little and hands me the drink.
        I walk around from person to person and get a load of drink orders. After I've handed some of them out, a brunette walks up to me.

          "Hi. You must be the new waitress. I'm sorry," she says.
          I decide to be friendly even though I can sense some animosity coming from her towards me. "Um, yes. I'm Marie. Can I get you anything?"
          "Why the hell are you dressed like that?" she asks instead of answering my question. She glares at somebody walking behind me. After a few seconds, I see it's Bryce.
           "Practical joke. It's some orientation thing I'm sure," I say laughingly even though I want to knock down my boss at the moment.
           "That's funny," she says like it's not. "I didn't have to go through any such nonsense. It makes me wonder if he had you dress this way since he knew Jesse would be dressed like that. How does it feel to be set up?"

        I want to hit her. Must... not... hit... customers. Somehow I doubt Bryce would tolerate that. "Oh, I didn't know you worked here. Are you the waitress that got fired?" I ask sweetly. Satisfaction courses through me with her split-second glare before she can mirror my plastered-on smile.
         "Oh no. I quit. I'd had enough of watching my boss flirt with anything that moved."
         "Funny. I've only seen him flirt with his girlfriend."
         "Oh, well this was before," she waves her hand and looks around. "So, do you like being set up with Jesse?" she asks again just to get on my nerves.
          "The way I see it, it's a coincidence. He came here with someone... though she left I think." Is she jealous of the fact that it looks like Bryce wants to set me up with Captain Brainless? I wonder if I should milk this jealousy just for the fun of it. So, I shrug and say, "But who knows, n'est-ce pas? Anything could happen. Maybe he thinks it's a good idea." I watch her expression cloud over with a feeling of increased satisfaction.
         "Well, then maybe I should warn you. He flies through women faster than your new boss used to," she snips.
        "Which means nothing to me since I have no idea what you mean." Do I detect a hint of jealousy about Bryce as well?
       She sighs dramatically and says, "Well then, I suppose you'll just have to learn the hard way. Don't say I didn't warn you." She pauses for a second to see if I'll say anything. I don't, so she says, "Yes. Go get me a drink. A Big Mistake. I'll drink it in your honor." She grins.
        "Augh, you don't need to pay me the compliment, and I'll get that for you right away," I say, my voice dripping with false sweetness as I swish my skirt and turn towards Jones. I listen intently behind me for any sudden movements in case she tries something. I hope she does. Self-defense can be so rewarding.
     Where did I put those eyedrops?

Jesse

        Life is unfair, I think as I watch Troy and Lynne dancing for a moment once Adele has finished teasing me about my attire. She enjoys a good practical joke as much as her father I think. Only, my costume isn't a practical joke. Marie's is.
        It didn't work, Bryce, she hates me already.
        I guess I was a dick.
      I probably should apologize. Second one for tonight... if she'll even let me talk to her long enough for me to get it out.
       I turn around a little to see her prance away from Bernadette while Bernadette stares at her with her hand on her hip like she's mad. That woman's always mad. Both definitions. Then I turn away and rest my cheek on my hand.
        I need to change up my game.
        I sit here and think about how I might go about doing that. Everything I've done lately has earned me a picture thrown at me, a knee to the groin, and a punch in the jaw -- not my finest moments. I ponder that look I saw in Marie's eyes as I'd laid on the floor when I lost my balance after Bryce punched me. There was this look of fear and pain that she quickly hid when she saw me looking at her. I turn around to figure out where she is. She's standing over by the bar. I swear it looks like Jones is flirting with her. 
         You're not going to come and ask me if I want anything, Marie? I'm sitting here at a table...
        Bernadette suddenly gets up and runs to the bathroom. I watch Marie as she looks at her with a smirk on her face. I turn back around to face the table when I see Bryce pull Erin out on the dance floor. Not too much later, I breathe a sigh of relief when they disappear off to the overflow seating. Still jealous of my best friend.

        I decide to go ahead and try to talk to Marie again -- this time just being nice. I walk up behind her right when she makes some remark about how Bryce just vanished, and she sounds a little pissed off. That's about the time that Pamela tells her that she's his sister. The 'oh shit' look on Marie's face is priceless! I don't score many points when I can't help but crack up laughing behind her.
        "What do you want, anyway?" she asks with a scowl as she turns around to me. Pamela looks at me as if to say 'what are you up to, Jesse?'
         I keep my grin on my face as I answer Marie, "Well, I was sitting over there at a table, and you never came over to take my order, so I thought I'd get up and find you myself to ask for a beer." I instantly feel bad about complaining. It was supposed to be all in good fun, but she looks panicked that she thinks she screwed up again. "No, don't worry about it, Marie. It's fine. I don't blame you for not wanting to talk to me," I say quickly to keep her from getting further upset.
         The worried look is still there as she says, "I'm sorry. That's no excuse. I still should've come over. What would you like?"
          Not quite knowing what else to do at this moment, I tell her the brand, and she hurries along to get it.
          I can't win for losing. Now I've made her feel worse.
         I look at Pam and say, "Don't be mad at her for her trash-talking Bryce. She's not had the best night."
          "Oh, I'm okay with that. I just wanted her to know before she really said something stupid that she didn't need to say to a customer anyway." She walks off to go talk to Simon or something.
          Marie comes back with my bottle in her hand. She hands it to me real fast. Too fast. I don't have a chance to try and catch her hand with my fingers like I like to do. She still looks panicked. "Hey, Marie. Hold up a sec, would you?" I ask.
          "I can't. I have to apologize right now to that other woman," she says quickly and darts away. I resolutely watch her as I go ahead and drink the beer I didn't even really want in the first place.

Marie

         I have no idea where Bryce went. The last I saw of him, he was walking off with his girlfriend. But I looked where they went, and I didn't see him. The place is getting crowded, and I can't do it on my own since Jones has to stay behind the bar!
          Then, oh great, I mouth off to his sister of all people. What was I thinking?! Then, Captain Insano has to remind me what a terrible job I'm doing at my job.
          After I, finally, get everyone's order taken care of and make sure they're all happy -- they're mostly easy-going people I've noticed -- I go and plop myself down at a bar stool. I work at not crying. I'm exhausted. I'm angry. I'm homesick. At first, Jones tries to cheer me up, but he gets distracted by a patron running his mouth like we really care what he has to say.

        "Everything okay?" I hear from behind me. Oh crap. Jesse again.
        "I'm fine," I say, tight-lipped.
        "You don't look it."
       Go away! I let out a huff. "Do you need me to get anything for you?" I ask automatically. I forget I'm sitting right at the bar, and if he wanted anything, he could order it his damn self.
        He smiles like the same thought just occurred to him as well. I fight the urge to just faceplant right into the bar's counter.
        "Just a moment of your time, if you don't mind," he says.
       I get irritated at my shaking hands, so I clench them together tightly on the counter in front of me. "Well, that all depends on what it is that you have to say."
        "You shouldn't hold your head that way. You'll get a crick in your neck," he says and reaches up to massage the back of my neck with one hand.
         Oh damn, that feels good. "Is that all? I can't believe you came over here to just comment on my posture," I lightly snap, working hard at not showing how what he's doing is affecting me.

      He laughs softly and says, "No. I came over here to apologize for earlier, and... earlier." I irritatedly throw my arm back to get his hand off the back of my neck. He drops his hand and says, "And... sorry for that too, I guess. It's just you look incredibly tense, and it was bothering me."
      "I'm fine. I'm only waiting for this crazy evening to end," I say, not sure what to do with the apology.
         "Yeah, and I contributed to the craziness. Ginger's right in a way. Sometimes I just don't think."
        I work hard at not snorting. No shit. I decide to just be nice. "I accept your apology," I say before I watch a wide grin cover his face. I also see an un-amused expression flit across Jones' face when he looks at Jesse for a second. So, he doesn't think much of the boss's best friend either.
         "Thank you, Marie," he says with that same boyish grin. He then leans down on the counter on his elbows and puts his chin on his hand. He looks ridiculous, but in a cute way like he's giving me his full attention. He asks, "So, where are you from?"
          Great, I think sarcastically. I can see no way to avoid the question without being completely rude, so I say, "Champs les Sims."
           He blinks a few times and says, "Wow. That far away, huh? Why did you decide to move here?"
           It's a simple enough question, but I don't feel like getting into the answer right now. "Look, Jesse. I'm really sorry, but I don't have time to sit here now. We're getting ready to close up, and I need to straighten a few things before I can go home."
           "Would it help you if I helped?" he asks as I get off the bar stool.
           I let out another huff and say with a shrug, "Knock yourself out." I like that phrase.

       He does a decent job of helping me get things cleaned up while Jones closes out the register. As we work, he tells me all about himself. I don't really care if he runs a store or if his family used to come here every summer, but he tells me anyway. I'm too tired to tell him to just be quiet.
       I sit here and wait for Jones to finish up so I can go home when I hear Jesse's boots sounding overly-loud as they cross the floor towards me.
        "May I walk you home?" he asks me while I stare at his shoes.

26: In A Mood

Bryce

      "Trust me, Erin. She can handle it if he pushes it too far." I try to reassure her about Jesse and Marie.

        "Why did you do that? Now you've made it obvious to everyone you're trying to set them up," she complains.

         I shrug. "So what if I am?"
         A few customers walk up to Jones and me. They just want basic drinks to go. How boring.

         Suddenly, Jesse is on the floor, curled up into a ball. What the...? I guess he went too far, I think as I try to figure out how I feel about the scene in front of me. On the one hand, I want to laugh, but that would be mean to Jesse, even if I am pissed at him. On the other, she just knocked down my best friend. She looks up and over at me as I scowl at her. I look down at Erin when I hear her letting out little bursts of air as she laughs silently. I decide to let Erin have her vicarious victory through Marie. No doubt he deserved it anyway.

       How many times have I told him that doesn't work on all of them? He's lucky they fall for the whole 'adorable idiot' act as often as they do, I think as I walk over to at least be nearby in case either of them try anything else violent. Marie looks like she's satisfied with the results and Jesse looks incapacitated. I doubt the fight picks back up.
        Ginger comes over and talks with Marie before Desmond interrupts her. Then he and Ginger argue -- like always, and walk off. Marie goes to have a seat at the bar since the place is empty again.

        I stand here and contemplate what to do next. Jesse deserves to get punched in the face. Hell, he'd do the same thing to me.
         "Get up, Jesse," I lightly order. He slowly stands up like he's getting ready to pay the piper.
         Then he actually looks me in the face and sees how pissed I really am. I remember last Sunday when Erin told me he'd kissed her after she'd told him we were dating.
          "Shit," Jesse says quietly.

        I decide to just keep it simple and just punch him once. After all, he did sincerely apologize. Still, I can't let this slide totally. He lands on the floor with a thud, probably wishing he'd not gotten up in the first place. Erin turns around and gasps when she sees what happened. I ignore her for the moment. I can hear Ginger screaming at Desmond a little ways away.

        Lynne was apparently on her way up the stairs. I hadn't noticed.
       "Oh my god, Bryce! What gets into you two?" She runs over to Jesse. His lip is bleeding.

         Jesse rolls his head in Lynne's direction with a small moan, but he's really looking at Marie. I don't really care to see the new girl's reaction. She may as well get used to scenes like this one if she's going to work in a bar, not that it happens all the time.
         "Get up, you pussy," I taunt him.
         "Bryce!" Erin gasps out. She doesn't get it obviously. Honestly, the punch was a lot weaker than it could've been.
         "Are we even now?" Jesse asks me.
         "Almost, but I don't want you laying down for the next thing." I actually step over and offer him a hand up. Lynne looks up at me with this severely annoyed expression. I raise my eyebrows up, daring her to say something. Oh good. Here's Troy. He'll distract her from the 'mother lecture' that she looks like she's ready to give.

       "What else are you wanting out of me?" he complains as I help him up.
       "You're going to apologize to Erin," I say.
       "What," I hear Erin say flatly. She doesn't sound too happy. I'd worried that this part would be hard for her, but I don't want things to stay weird between my best friend and my girlfriend.

        Erin looks extremely uncomfortable. I'll apologize later. In fact... Wait a minute. Is he looking at her rack? Does he want me to hit him again?
        And look who decided to show up. Bernadette. She has a lot of nerve showing up here, I think as I watch her wave at Jesse and stand to watch what's going on with a curious air. I don't have the energy to tell her to piss off.

       "I was going to do this anyway," Jesse starts talking to her - finally looking at her face. "But apparently Bryce demands that I do it now." Prick. "I know you're uncomfortable around me, so I'll just keep it quick. I'm really sorry, Erin. I wasn't thinking clearly, and I crossed the line."
       Erin mumbles some kind of acceptance, glares at me (uh oh), and takes a step back when Bernadette practically pushes her out of the way. I start to calm down. I hate that I put Erin through that. I really do. I'll have to pay for that later. Damn. Tonight of all nights too! My mood really improves when I consider what night it is. She'll forgive me quick enough, surely she'll understand where I'm coming from.
        I feel Simon come up behind me and hit me lightly on the shoulder as a greeting. I can tell from reading his expression that he's curious about what's going on. Then, Bernadette surprises everyone...

        ...especially Jesse when she pulls flowers out of nowhere and tries to give them to him. Alright, now it's official. That woman is mental.
        Erin actually smiles. At least there's hope for her mood, and if that mental woman's actions make her happier, then I'm happy about it. Jesse doesn't act too thrilled. I nudge Simon with my elbow and laugh silently. He just looks at Bernadette with a concerned expression.
        "I said no thank you," Jesse reiterates. Her head droops as she mutters some response, and the flowers disappear from wherever it was they came. I had no idea she had a thing for Jesse. Maybe if she wasn't such a bitch...
        Jesse watches her walk away with a confused expression on his face before he turns back to me to ask, "Are we good now?"
      "Yeah, I guess," I answer him. Then he gets this look on his face like he's about to crack up laughing.

        Simon shakes his head in confusion and heads over to the bar as Jesse walks up to me.
        "What the hell was that?" he laughs as he gets it out. My best friend is back.
        I can't help but laugh a little myself as I say, "I have no idea. Did you?"
        He shakes his head no. "Not a clue. I mean, she's cute and all... until you get to know her." We both laugh, and I almost feel sorry for Bernadette. Almost.

        The sun sets, and Erin hasn't spoken to me since I made Jesse apologize. I can see her through the crowd standing over there talking to Pam about who knows what. I go and have a seat next to Bernadette while Belinda acts like she's not listening.
       "What the hell are you doing here, Bernadette?" I ask.
       "You said the whole island was invited," she points out.
       "Yeah, but I didn't think you'd show your face so soon after being fired."
        She slams her hand down on the table to throw her head around and glare at me as she says, "Damn it, if I want to be here, why is it any of your damn business?"
      "All right, so it's not," I say and get up. I was just curious. Honestly, I don't care that much, certainly not enough to argue over it. I walk over and pull Erin out to the middle of the floor, intending to dance with her and get her to talk to me.

Erin

       I'm mad at him. He did not need to punch Jesse like that, not unless his goal was to make me stop disliking Jesse and instead feel bad for him. I can't help but feel some of it is my fault.
       "Talk to me," he requests once he's pulled me away from the spot I decided to hide in once Pam went to go dance with Simon. I'm happy they still go out even though they have a toddler. I'm also surprised that Adele is here at the bar tonight, but I guess she has to since all of her caretakers are here.
        "Please talk to me," he interrupts my meandering thoughts. He's looking at me like that again, and he's pulled me real close. I glance up at him for a split second before going back to staring at my hand. That intense look is back in his eyes, and I feel like I need to go sit down. He brings the hand that's not around my waist up to tuck some of my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering a little too long on the outside of my ear.
       "Tell me exactly what's bothering you or I'm going to nibble on your ear right here in front of everybody. I'm sure they'll be very entertained," he threatens quietly.
        I gasp a little and look up at his smiling eyes. Now I don't know what to say.
        "Well, that at least got you looking at me." He sighs and continues, "You're mad at me about how I handled the Jesse thing, aren't you?"
       I nod quietly and go back to looking at my hand.
       "Look, I'm sorry that I made you talk to him like that, but honestly, if I'd let that drag out then things would've gotten steadily weirder. I had to stop that from happening."
        "That did make me very uncomfortable..." My voice trails out.
        "But?"
         I look up at him accusingly. He looks back at me and swallows before I ask, "Did you have to hit him?"
         "Yes," he answers without pause.

       Since I'm quiet for a few seconds, he continues, "I guess I don't expect you to understand, but yes. I had to hit him." After I scowl at him, he lets out in a huff. "It's a guy thing."
         "To punch your best friend."
         "When my best friend kisses my girlfriend, yes. But we're good now, so all that's over," he answers my statement and takes my hand off his chest to a more standard dance position as we sway on the spot.
          As our bodies lightly brush up against the other, I can feel his changing mood.
          "Erin, don't be mad at me," he pleads.
          "I'm not mad. Not really. Not anymore. I'm confused as hell. How did you forgive him so fast?"
         "You don't think I should've?" he asks. Then that slow smile spreads across his face as he further asks, "You think I should still be mad at him so the two of us can fight over you some more?"
            "What?!" Okay, now I'm mad. I take a deep breath so I can really lay into him.

         However, I'm stopped from doing that when he all of a sudden kisses me. I try to lean away, but he just follows me like his lips are glued to mine. I hit him on the back of his shoulders. I do not want to kiss this publicly! That's all I need is someone to pull out their cellphone and take a picture for all the world to see once it's uploaded. ... Then Sean could find it... find me.

         Panic fills me, and I successfully jerk out of his grasp. I have a really bad feeling all of a sudden.
         He reaches out to grab my hands as he asks, "Hey, what is it?"
         I can't tell him. "Nothing," I say.
         "Please don't give me the 'nothing' answer," he huffs. "It's obviously something. Look, I'm sorry I had to punch him. It's just the way he and I work!"
          He sounds like he's about to really go into a long explanation, so I interrupt him, "It's not that."

       He looks at me like he's trying to figure me out as he says, "Because I kissed you right here in front of everybody?" He waits, and when I don't deny it, he says, "I was kidding about the whole 'fighting over you' thing, and you looked like you were about to get really mad. So, I stopped that like that."
       Again, he tells me probably exactly what he's thinking, or at least close to it. How does he do that?
         "There's something else, though, isn't there?" he asks with that same look. Then he starts pulling me off to the other seating area... where we went last week. It's only been a week?! I follow him, my knees locking a little with every step. The last time we took this walk he wound up kissing me. Well, that wouldn't be bad, but what if he has something else up his sleeve? Obviously, he has no problem kissing me in front of everybody now. Maybe he's pulling me down here for my comfort level. That's gotta be it.
         I walk ahead of him a little, just like last time, and go lean back against the fence, staring at my feet. The spot I choose this time is much darker than last week. I prefer it that way.

        He walks up to me and takes my chin in his hand as he asks, "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"
         "It was the kissing in front of everybody thing," I answer. That feeling is probably nothing.
         "You're doing it again. Please? You can tell me anything."
         "It's nothing. Just a weird feeling. That's all," I tell him and look him in the eye to let him know that that really is all there is.

           He takes a breath in such a manner that I think he believes me. "I'm sorry. I guess that was more than you can handle. I forgot that you're a little shy."
          "What?!" I snap. "I'm not shy! I might be a little timid sometimes, but don't call me shy!" I quietly yell at him.
          We hear a little, high-pitched squeal coming from somewhere behind me a little ways away. Bryce lifts his face up, looks behind me, squints a little, and mumbles, "About damn time."
            "What is it?" I ask and start turning my head to see.

       He gets a firmer hold of my chin to stop me from looking and kisses me. I let out an aggravated noise. He pulls back for a second to whisper, "It's Desmond and Ginger. Shh." My eyes widen with that knowledge as he goes back to kissing me.
       Whoa. I thought they hated each other. I guess I didn't give it much thought since Desmond is such an ass. Bryce's arms tighten around me as he starts really kissing me, and I forget all about whoever it is that's doing God knows what behind me.
       His hand moves down to my butt, and he presses me against him as he starts kneading with his hand and slowly, suggestively, moving against me. He's really turned on.

       He pulls back to thankfully let me breathe and asks, "My beautiful Erin, do you know what tonight is?"
       "Friday night."
       "Exactly. And last Friday, a week ago, I kissed you for the first time."
       "Yes, and then I freaked out and ran away." And wow, I've really come a long way.
       "The point I'm trying to make is that it's been a week."
       What?! "No it hasn't," I say a little breathlessly.
       "What?! Yes it has," he argues, and he sounds deflated.
       "We weren't a couple until Saturday," I try to explain. Believe me, I've been thinking all day that it's tomorrow.
        He snorts, "You were counting from then? That's not how I thought of it."
        "Huh? Then how did you think of it?"
      "You wanted to make sure you weren't a 'flavor of the week,' so I started counting from when everything got started. 'Things' ...didn't always happen the first night with... them."
        Oh holy shit, he started his count from last Friday, meaning it has been a week. I start panicking. "Bryce... that's not how I thought of it. I..." Damn it if his way of thinking about it makes more sense. I guess I should be happy that he doesn't count from when he first started to chase me. Or, maybe that's the conclusion he came to... that last Friday's party, before I ran away, was when he really started to chase me.  "Saturday," I say in an annoyingly-meek voice. I'm going to be a nervous wreck tomorrow. Why did I plan it?
         "Saturday," he states his question.
         I nod, unable to find wherever it was my voice went. My eyes glance up at him to gauge his mood from his face. He looks... calculating. What are you up to, Bryce? "Are you mad at me?" I ask, still in that annoyingly-meek voice. Tomorrow is soon enough as it is.
          He jerks his head back like what I asked surprised him. "No. Why would I be mad at you? I'm not mad. I love you, and if that means waiting until tomorrow, then I wait until tomorrow."

      I suddenly stand up on my toes and kiss him passionately. I hadn't expected that out of him. I'd thought he'd try to convince me to change my mind. After a few seconds, he hungrily kisses me back.

       Of course, that doesn't change his mood, but I don't worry about that. He's not pressuring me. I love him.

25: Misunderstood

Ginger

    The new girl is so cool! I'd watched as she spun around and knocked Jesse to the floor in a matter of seconds. (no doubt he deserved it) I've just got to learn how to do that! She should teach a class. I'll happily be her first student if I can manage it around my work schedule.

     I mention to her my idea about the class, but I don't know if she hears me. She appears distracted by Jesse and Bryce.

     "Oh yeah, because that's just what someone with your temper needs," I hear Desmond say sarcastically behind me after Marie answers all my questions.
      Why couldn't he just stay over there at the bar? I think as I turn to face him with a scowl on my face. We stand here and argue about whether or not I should convince Marie to teach me. I don't know what his problem is. It's not like it's any of this is his business anyway.
        

      Marie walks past us to sit down at the bar in the seat that Desmond recently vacated. A thoughtful look comes over his face as he continues, "However, I might just take that back. Maybe you could learn a thing or two. Isn't one of the main aspects of sim fu meditating?"
         Why is he being so mean?
       He means meditating to control my temper. "Shut up, Desmond. Maybe if you weren't around, I wouldn't always get so mad," I snip back to him. Then I wish I could take my words back, because he looks really upset now.
       "Yes, I forgot. My very presence pisses you off," he grumbles.
      "When you're grumpy, yes, but..." Okay, so he does piss me off most of the time, but I keep talking to him anyway. If he wasn't such a jerk...
        He continues like I didn't say anything, "You think nothing matters to me, and you can't stand to be around someone like that since I'm not much of a 'smiler.' "

        "That is not what I meant!" I yell, and he looks mildly surprised. "Stop trying to twist everything I say!" I can't take it anymore! I have to get away from him before I say some more stuff I'll regret. He just makes me so mad! I storm around him and head to the overflow seating. I doubt I'll stop there though. I need to go on a walk for a little peace and quiet so I can calm down.

       "What?" he asks belligerently. "Don't try to tell me that's not how you meant it."

       "Whatever," I throw over my shoulder. I don't have the energy to come up with a better response.

        "I give up, Desmond. I keep trying, but we can't have a conversation where you don't piss me off," I say to him as he continues to follow me.

          I look longingly at the grassy area behind his office. I just want to go, sit out there on the grass, and think. Meditate. "Leave me alone," I tell him.

         He ignores my request, no big surprise, and asks instead, "Are you and Jesse dating?"

         Huh? Where did that come from? "Why do you ask?" I question, again trying to keep up with what he's talking about. As if it's any of your business who I decide to date. It's not like you're asking me out or anything. No, you live to annoy the hell out of me.

         "Yes or no?" he asks me again.

         "Why is it any of your business?"
       "I don't suppose it really is. I just wanted to know why you're dressed like some doxy coming here as Jesse's arm candy."

           He thinks I'm dressed like a whore! I'm wearing this to help Jesse!

        I spin around and slap him across the face. I've had it! I've had it with his smart-ass, almost hateful comments to me!

         My hand stings.

        "Shut up! I mean REALLY! Shut UP! You don't understand anything, do you? Just go be that hateful smart ass that you are around someone else!" I yell. Some tourists look curiously over at us. I don't want an audience, so I march off to that little grassy area that called to me earlier.

        "Just where the hell do you think you're going?" he barks to me.

      "Away. Away from you," I say as I stop and look at his intense expression. I wouldn't be too surprised if green sparks start shooting out of his eyes. I'm too angry to even be afraid. "I'm done with you." Done with ever thinking that we could ever be more than friends. Done with even thinking we can be friends. I turn and start walking again.

        Why do I let him get under my skin? I told myself I wouldn't let this happen again, but there I go letting it happen! He called me a whore. That settles it. He's nothing more than a...

         I gasp as I feel an arm around my waist spin me around, making me lose my balance. My arms fly out trying to find something to grab hold of so that I don't fall. The only thing to hold onto is Desmond.

        "You listen to me, you little spit-fire redhead!" he says with clenched teeth as he jerks me into him. I still try to fight for my balance as he continues, "I'm not done with you! Stop saying I don't understand, that nothing matters to me, that none of it is any of my business. I am not always grumpy even though I don't smile much. There are things that matter to me, and just because I don't share them with you doesn't mean they're not still there."

         He has me pulled up so tightly against him that it's almost painful. I feel my chest press against him as I try to catch my breath and digest what he just said.

        "It isn't any of your business," I breathe, finding the most solid argument.

        His eyes look down at me wildly, and I now have mild fear running through me. He looks angry, furious, and he's still holding me way too tight. I start trying to push away from him even though I still haven't fully regained my footing.

        All of a sudden and only for a moment, a look of pain crosses his face before the anger returns and he growls, "Damn you, Ginger!"

        Wait, what? I mentally question when I feel his goatee brush against my face as he crushes his lips to mine. No, wait. I'm completely lost here. A little, aggravated noise slips out of me as he holds me impossibly tighter. I swear it's like he's saying, 'shut up, Ginger, and let me kiss you.'

         When did I say that nothing matters to him today? .... oh. He means...

         He forces my lips apart, and his tongue fills my mouth.

         ...the other day. Wait a minute.

         I feel the hand on my waist clench into a fist, grabbing a part of my dress with it as he lets out a low groan.

          Wait a damn minute! I think as I hit his collarbone with my fist. I get totally distracted from the kiss by my rambling thoughts. You hate me. You live to get on my last nerve. You think I'm the most annoying woman in the world yet you go out of your way to piss me off when you'd be happier if you just left me alone. Oh, but no, you have to follow me around, call me up at work and ask to bring a book by when you could just as easily go and get it your damn self. That, or get your secretary to do it.

          "But if I do that I wouldn't get to see your pretty, smiling face," his sardonic voice echoes in my memory. Surely he didn't actually mean that. Did he? A jolt of energy shoots through me like a bolt of lightning. I'm almost surprised I don't hear the subsequent thunder. Instead, I just hear my heart pounding in my ears. No, I just can't believe it.

        He releases my mouth only to trail his down my jaw to a spot on my throat that he really acts like he likes.

        "Are you or aren't you dating Jesse, and please give me a straight answer," he mumbles into my neck, and I work at suppressing a shiver as his goatee lightly scratches my throat when he speaks.

      "I'm not," I say simply, and I feel him relax a little as he breathes out real fast like he'd been holding his breath. "Desmond, I don't understand. Why are you so desperate to know that?"

       An exasperated noise comes out of him before he growls, "For someone so smart, you are really dense sometimes."

         Jerk. I hit his shoulder since that's the easiest target. "Excuse me?!" I snarl.

        He drags his mouth up my cheek as he mumbles, "You heard me."

        His face very close to mine, he holds my eyes with his as he asks, "Why else would I kiss you like that?"

         No, I don't believe it, I think and feel myself shake my head no as I think it.

       "Yes," he says, and then I remember that he could see me shaking my head no. Duh, I'm standing right in front of him and he's watching my every expression like a hawk.

         He said yes, I think dumbly. 

         "You hate me," I say quietly.

         "I don't."

         "Yes, you do. You're always trying your damnedest to piss me off."

         A split-second smile flits across his face before he lightly shrugs and says, "I admit it's a hobby of mine. Thing is, you're incredibly beautiful when you're pissed off."

         I feel my face try to be redder than my hair as I realize that, for once, he actually paid me a compliment without making it an insult. His hands move to get a more secure hold of me as he continues to watch my face, making me self-conscious.

         Hold up. "A hobby?!" I snap.

         He looks like he's trying desperately to keep from laughing as he says, "Well, yes. It became one."

         "A hobby is something you do in your spare time. So you spend your spare time coming up with new and inventive ways to piss me off?!" And it's working again because I'm getting pissed off again!

        "No, I invent things on the spot to piss you off. I spend my spare time thinking about you in other ways," he says point blank.

         I'm immediately not angry anymore. "Um... just what the hell do you mean by that?"

         "I think you know exactly what I mean."

         This is too much. I shake a little as I try to pull away.

       "Not yet," he says cryptically just before he leans in to kiss me again.
       A pathetic, little whimper comes out of me. No, I need to go think. Damn you, Desmond! You have been pissing me off on purpose all this time?! ....And he said it was because he thinks I'm incredibly beautiful when I'm mad. Incredibly beautiful. No one has ever said anything like that to me before. I relax the tiniest amount in his arms, and he crushes me to him when I do. This kiss isn't child's play either.
        "I think you know exactly what I mean by that," echoes in my head. He... he he... no, wait a minute. ... like that?! I start shaking again. I'm the tiniest bit afraid of him again. Too much!
        I jerk back suddenly to gasp, "This is just too much!"
        "What about all this is too much? You still think I hate you?" he asks as he refuses to let me go. I hope that if I were really trying to break free that he'd let me, but as it is, I'm really only mildly resisting.
        "You hating me makes a hell of a lot more sense, don't you think?" I ask.
        "No. Not to me it doesn't. Do you think I'd go out of my way to be around you if I hated you?"
        I have to look away from the look he has in his eyes, so I turn my head. He doesn't act like he minds because he starts kissing my neck again.
         "Hm?" he mumbles, and his voice vibrates deep in his chest.
         I can't focus enough to string together a good enough argument. It's finally starting to sink in. I do, however, have a complaint. "Then why are you so mean to me?"
         He lifts up off my neck to look at me again as he says, "For that, I'm sorry. What can I say? You'd just, for instance, walk into my office and look so... You have no idea how many times I've wanted to clear off my desk and have you right then and there." His arms tighten around me, and I think it's because my legs just turned to jelly. "It made me furious."
        "That makes no sense," I say, and he rolls his eyes. "It doesn't! Why am I only hearing all this from you now? You could've told me all this sooner, you know."
        "I didn't think you wanted to hear it."

        I stand here, completely silent, because I have no idea what to say.
      Suddenly he laughs, shaking his shoulders up and down as he does it, before he says, "I can't believe it! You're quiet? I didn't know such a thing was possible!" Waves of relief roll off him.
        I get mad. "Damn it, Desmond! I can get quiet! Sometimes I'm too quiet! I work in a library after all." I pound on his chest with my fist.
        "So then it finally makes sense!" he says with obviously false enthusiasm. "You have to fill your daily word quota when you're around everyone else! And you don't have much time to do it in so you have to talk fast."
       "Fine! I guess I'll just stop talking to you!"
       "Like I'd let that happen."
        I say nothing.
      "I'll just find something else to piss you off so that you can't help but start mouthing off to me again."
         I'm really getting mad now... again.
       The sonofabitch smiles and keeps talking, "Well, take for instance your 'dress.' I don't think it matches the era that Jesse dressed for. And if it does, it's underwear. You came to the party in your underwear. Or, medieval underwear."
      I growl and start trying to get free from his arms. "Son of a... Jesse picked this out! I told him it didn't matter as long as it wasn't too short! If you have such a problem with it then -"
       "Who says I have a problem with what you're wearing?" he taunts. His arms maintain their hold of me like a cage.
       "You did!"
       "I knew you'd start talking again," he grins.  
        This is the happiest I think I've ever seen him. That's a little sad actually, I think in a melancholy way.
        "Well, you were complaining about how I never shut up, so I thought I would."
         "I wasn't saying your incessant talking was a bad thing," he lightly argues.
          I can't stand it. "Yes, you did! You said how you can't believe it!"
        "That doesn't mean I was happy about it. For once, I desperately wanted you to say something and you got quiet," he says, bringing our argument/conversation back full circle.
          "I... just didn't know what to say," I say quietly, very nervous all of a sudden.

        "Then I'll say it. No, Ginger. I don't hate you. I'm fucking crazy about you." Jelly legs. "You said to me this past week to find something that matters to me."
         I interrupt, "Um, well, that was before -"
        "Damn it, I'm not finished!" he snaps, startling me. "Sorry," he says to my worried and hurt expression. He takes a deep breath and continues, "That that you said... hurt."
        I bite my lip to keep from talking because I want so bad to apologize right now, but he acts like he's working really hard to tell me all this stuff.
         His jaw clenches as he stares at my lip for a second before he takes a deep breath and continues, "Because you matter to me. Then for you to tell me I even made a terrible friend..."
         I close my eyes real tight and bite super hard on my lip now because it's all I can do not to interrupt him. I feel terrible for saying those things. Why did I say those things? Me and my big mouth. I peep one eye open because he's gotten quiet, and I wonder why.
         I squeak out, "Can I talk now?"
         He takes a deep breath and blinks real slow as he says, "I don't know. Can you?"
         I stomp on his toe with my sandal. I doubt it did anything except hurt the ball of my foot, but the point still got across anyway. "May I then, damn it!?"
      "You know, you really shouldn't cuss. It's un-ladylike," he says instead of answering my question.
       "Oh, so you're allowed to, but I'm not?!" I can't help but argue.
       One corner of his mouth goes up as he says, "I don't have to worry about being ladylike."
       "Hells bells, Desmond! Here I am, trying to apologize for all those horrible things I said to you the other night, but all you're interested in doing is pissing me off!" I yell up to the treetops. I bring my face back to face him as I say, "Why do I even -"

         I let out a high-pitched, agitated sound as he traps me in an inescapable kiss. I'm hopping mad. I mean really mad. I mean really hopping as I lightly jump up and down and hit his shoulders.
        "Ginger..." he says against my lips, "if you keep doing that we're going to test the strength of this fabric."
         I stop immediately. He actually laughs quietly.
         "I accept your apology if you accept mine," he says.
         "Fine."
         "Where were you going before I stopped you anyway?" he asks out of the blue.
         "Um, well," I swallow, "I was going to go for a walk if it looked like you were still going to bug me, but what I really wanted to do was go and just sit in the grass over there."
        "Sun's almost set," he says randomly, but then I wonder just how 'random' it was by what he says next. "I like that idea. Let's go see how many grass stains we can make."
         My eyes widen as he grabs my hand and we disappear into the quickly-darkening patch of grass underneath some trees and behind his office.