Squiggle

by Chandler Ardnas

  A cell phone rang across the way, which it did often, but today Julius stood and walked down the hallway to take the call. It must be Jennifer ‘play all day’ Staple calling. She most likely woke up in a strange bed and needed directions to find her way home. I moved my chair to the opening of my cube and peeked out to watch his cute butt wrestle with the material of his slacks. Two other heads poked out also; one was Susan, a middle aged married woman… the bitch. The other was Kevin. Wow, so many things began to fall into place.

  Julius hadn’t returned when the lunch bell sounded. The company treated us like we were Pavlovian dogs, trained to salivate at the sound of a bell. We all stood and shuffled toward the stairs and elevators. I walked to the cafeteria alone and got a square tray to make my way down the line. I stared at the square meals; lasagna, cut into squares, cornbread, made into squares, Jell-O, always piled into tiny squares. I was looking tearfully at a grilled cheese sandwich when inspiration hit me. I took my cup and pressed it into the bread, cutting it into a circle. I tossed the edges into the trash and walked to the register.

  A woman in a hair net looked at my plate and asked, “What is that?”

  “A cheese sandwich; I cut it with my cup,” I announced proudly.

  She glanced around the room and then said, “Um, I don’t think you’re allowed to do that.”

  “I’m not allowed to cut my own sandwich?

  Again, she looked around as if needing a supervisor and then said, “Once you sit down you can cut it, but you have to wait until it is purchased.”

  I glared incredulously before walking back to the garbage can and retrieving my discarded corners. I sat them on my tray and walked back to the cashier. “Happy?” I said with venom. She took my money and I walked dejected to where Claire and Amos-ass sat. I was never going to get my squiggle world when even food had to be square.

  “What’s wrong, Toto?” Claire asked. She used the nickname I hated just because she was conditioned into talking baby talk to her steroid-using Hun. The moron reached onto my tray to pick up the sandwich corners and stuffed them into his mouth. I smiled, and never said a word as I imagined all the germs from the garbage multiplying inside his body. They cooed and kissed all through lunch, ruining my appetite for my disembodied sandwich and sending me back to my department.

  There was a hint of excitement in the air when I arrived back to my cube. I was dying to hear all about the lunch date between Sara and Travis. If things worked out well for them I would insist she talk to him about how much he stares, and while she’s at it she might as well mention his stiff posture and his long blonde curls…. okay, his curls were kind of hot, but a haircut wouldn’t hurt.

  Kevin found me wandering the aisle and grabbed my hand. He leaned close and asked, “What were you talking to Julius about?” I saw more than a passing interest in Kevin’s eyes and I wasn’t sure if I should hurt him by being honest, but I was interested in the cute guy too, and I didn’t need the competition.

  I sighed sadly and said, “He’s having trouble with his wife.”

  I didn’t realize my comment would give Kevin hope, but hearing the word ‘trouble’ with the word ‘wife’ gave him visions of Julius falling madly in love with him. It was too late to backtrack, and I doubted Kevin would lose interest just because I said so. I was now forced to fight not only Jennifer ‘the plague’ Staple for her ex, but also a very stylish gay guy. I wasn’t too worried about my coworker Susan; I had a plan to take her out of the running. I just hoped Julius wasn’t turned on by stretch-knit pants and the bulbous area between her navel and her pelvis. If he was the bulbous loving type, I would begin eating enormous amounts of sugar. I was in it to win it.

  Sara returned with Mr. Stovall following behind her. I rushed into my cube and tried to look out the side of my eyes to see if he would acknowledge her in front of the others. In true freaky fashion he stopped at her cube and said loudly, “I’ll check on those questions for you.” I suddenly noticed Mr. Stovall’s accent seemed to come and go. It was strong when he was upset or excited, but other times it was almost nonexistent. I had never been to the south, so I wasn’t sure if it was normal or not.

  I looked at my screen to see several e-mails compelling me to get right to work. I wasn’t aware of Julius returning until I got an e-mail from a J. Carmichael. It read; I find you charming. I looked around the room, but everyone was hard at work. Who found me charming… and why were they finding me anything at all? It was creepy and a bit stalkerish. Another message popped up and said; Travis said a bunch of us are going to Barney’s tonight, are you coming?

  I looked at the name again and realized J. Carmichael must be Julius Carmichael. For some reason the name sounded so familiar. I said it over and over in my mind as I typed: Isn’t it weird that you’re e-mailing me from only five feet away? Why is the name Carmichael so familiar?

  I heard him chuckle and I wanted to jump up and yell, “Ah ha! You’re not perfect at cube etiquette either.” But he did manage to keep looking forward instead of over at me. I heard him typing as I waited for his response. It came quickly and read: The name William Carmichael is on your paycheck, he’s my father. I don’t mind weird, do you?

  My mouth was moving faster than my brain and I raised my finger saying decisively, “Carmichael Corporation.” It was the name of where I worked but said nothing about what we did. I wondered if there was a tag line or something to give me a clue. I searched all my hanging papers for a company logo but didn’t find anything.

  Julius had moved from his chair and stood leaning against my cube with his hands hanging over the wall, awkwardly close to a picture of a hot actor with great abs I used as a pinup. “You might want to write it down,” he teased, showing me his beautiful smile with perfect teeth.

  I couldn’t believe I just admitted not knowing the company name in front of the heir to the entire corporation, but why would he be working in a cube next to me if his father owned the company? His parents must hate him for some reason. Obviously, I wasn’t thinking silently because he answered my inaudible question. “They don’t hate me,” he said. “I’m learning everything about the business from the ground up. This department isn’t too bad, but the warehouse was scary.”

  I nodded in understanding because I knew Amos-mutt personally. “You have no idea,” I agreed. “My roommate dates Amos Dunn. He thinks flatulence is the best way to profess his love.”

  Julius laughed and then asked the million-dollar question, well, maybe it was only the hundred-dollar question, but it was a personal question all the same. “Do you miss living in Cartwright?”

  I snorted a bit as I laughed at what a crazy question it was. I was so happy I lived in San Francisco where streets were squiggles and the nights were lively. I would never return to small town life again. I shook my head and said, “I love it here. Claire and I rent a tiny old house, but only because your father doesn’t pay very well.”

  His eyebrows rose in astonishment and he questioned, “Are you asking me to get you a raise?”

  I wondered if he could. I wasn’t talking to him just because he could get me a raise; I was talking to him because he was gorgeous, sexy, and hott with two t’s. But if he could get me a raise I wouldn’t complain. I decided to make a bargain. “Get me a raise and I’ll get your speeding tickets dismissed.”

  He looked at me with shock and asked, “How do you know I have tickets?”

  I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know if he visited Jen’s family even once, he most likely received a ticket. “Cartwright is a speed trap; didn’t Jen warn you? The town makes a fortune on all the men speeding away after visiting her.”

  I think I angered him a bit, because he decided to call my bluff and walked directly into my cubicle. He entered my holy edifice usually reserved for friends and supervisors only. The square shrunk immediately, and it felt like I was pressed against him, breathing loudly in his face. My clutter doubled and continued to grow with each second he remained inside my pers
onal space.

  His hand reached for my phone and his deliciously long fingers dialed an extension as I mentally checked to see if I was drooling. He leaned against the edge of the desk portion of my half-wall and my lowered eyes were staring directly at his crotch. Grey, his dress slacks were grey, and they rode low on his hips even though he was wearing a black belt with a silver buckle attached through the third hole. I yelled at myself to look away and stop acting like I was going to give a detailed description to Kev in the break room.

  “This is Julius, is my father available?” he said into my phone, speaking with his breath blowing all over the mouthpiece. I wanted to lick it and told myself it was nothing like Am-moss eating my sandwich pieces from the trash. There weren’t any germs on my phone; his sweet breath couldn’t possibly contain germs. And then the mental picture of him kissing Jen entered my mind and I threw up a little in my mouth.

  “Hi, dad,” he said, and my heart fell into my feet. I shook my head furiously at him and tried to grab the phone from his hand. He spun around to get out of my reach, so I jumped on my chair and almost climbed over his back. “Tell mom I’ll be there for dinner tomorrow, and I’ll talk to you then, bye.”

  He put the phone back in its cradle as I remained attached to his back. My skirt was pulled up to display my impressive orange silk panties in the mirror I had hanging next to the doorway. It gave him the perfect view of my …assets, when he turned his head. I slid down his tall body and quickly pulled my skirt back into its proper place, knowing even my butt cheeks were blushing.

  I could see several heads poking over the half walls watching the commotion on display in my square. I quickly sat down to be out of view, but Julius was still standing… and Kevin was most likely looking longingly at him.

  “Cute dog,” he said casually, and reached for the picture.

  “He died,” I said in case J. Carmichael ever came to my house. “He got hit by a car, and I threw him in the trash.”

  Oh. My. God. My mind was not connecting with my mouth and I was trying to make sense, but I kept picturing the grey crotch-slacks and wanted to climb up the front of him as he looked in a mirror. I finally did the only thing I could. “I need to pee,” I said, and sprinted from my square, down the rectangular hallway, and into another square with a stick figure of a body in a skirt, letting illiterate people know it was a ladies room, and finally into a much smaller square with an oblong toilet.

  Oblong, I loved oblong, it was a shape refusing to be a circle. I felt right at home.

  Chapter 2

  Claire and I lived in an older neighborhood close to the downtown area. The small, two-bedroom house had belonged to her grandmother. After she passed, Claire’s wealthy parents let us rent it for only three-hundred-dollars each. I loved the place because the neighborhood was crime free and the Spanish style house had arched windows. Claire liked it because she said we were the hottest chicks on the block. I wasn’t so sure; there was a former Rockette who still had pretty impressive gams.

  After work, I didn’t bother going to the gym since I planned on dancing off any calories at Barney’s. I got a square microwave dinner out of its box and put it in to cook as I surfed through the television channels. I stopped on Gilmore Girls, knowing if Amos-doof came by it would anger him. In less than ten minutes he walked through the door with Claire. I quickly hid the remote under my skirt as he commenced searching for it. I guess there is some sort of man-code that states males get to control the remote if they are within hearing distance of a television. I didn’t care if I was breaking the code; it was my house and my television. He already managed to break one of our kitchen chairs, our recliner, and most of the springs on Claire’s bed, so breaking the code meant nothing to me.

  “Are you going to Barney’s tonight?” Claire asked.

  “Is dumb-butt going?” I asked, glancing at Amos as he continued searching for the remote.

  She glared at me and then marched angrily from the room, telling me he was indeed going. I reached under my skirt and removed the battery from the remote before heading off to my own room to eat in private.

  I stepped over my clothes littering the floor and stared at my closet. Every girl in the world knows if an outfit doesn’t say the right thing at the right time, it is punished by lying on the ground until it is beaten by the agitator in the washing machine. I tried on several outfits before finding the right one, adding to the pile concealing the carpet.

  I didn’t want to look anxious, or desperate, or even hopeful. Technically he was still married and just because it was to the one woman I wanted to get even with, it didn’t mean I should actually do it. Does sleeping with a whore’s husband make one a whore? Life is so full of difficult questions.

  I waited for the perfect time to make my entrance into Barney’s. The club was packed as usual on a Friday night and I shoved my license in the back pocket of my jeans to prove I was all grown up at twenty-three. The room was too warm, so I pulled off my hoodie and tossed it against the wall, hoping to find it barf-free at the end of the night. I gathered my thick hair into my hand and pulled it off my neck for some air as I swayed to the beat of the music. Someone approached me from behind and blew onto my exposed flesh. I spun around to find Julius smiling at me.

  “I’m hot,” I said bluntly. I noticed his eyebrows raised and I wasn’t sure if I should take back the statement or own it, so I just ignored it.

  I opened my mouth to speak, so he leaned in allowing me to talk directly into his ear to be heard over the music. “I got your tickets dropped,” I lied, and he looked up with only his eyes to question me. It made other images spring to mind, like him looking up from his knees, or looking up from my chest. I really needed him to stop looking up.

  His hand, the one with the delicious fingers, wrapped around my neck and pulled my ear to his mouth. “I got you a raise,” he said, in a voice that sounded like Oreo cookies dunked in milk, making my tongue sneak out to run along my lips in search of the treat. I stood there with the loud music vibrating my body, a cool drink I somehow ended up with in my hand, and the tight hold of a perfect man on my neck. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

  He nodded to the dance floor and I smiled in agreement… I think… I may have purred, but I meant to smile. His hand slowly moved from the spot I wanted it surgically attached and ran down the length of my arm to take my hand in his. I was so dead, he could actually show me the weapon he used as a serial killer and I would still go home with him.

  He led us to the middle of the crowded dance floor and pulled my back against his chest, wrapping his arm around my waist and moving our bodies in perfect unison. I knew he could most likely see down my shirt from his tall stature, but I didn’t care; I was rockin’ the orange bra. I let my head fall against his shoulder, my dark hair blending perfectly with his dark tee. I closed my eyes and tried to picture my hair flowing over his bare chest, but I somehow ended up on my back with my hair flowing over his pillow.

  “Tobi, you came?” Sara squeaked.

  I almost looked down to see if I unconsciously had an orgasm on the dance floor. Luckily, I am not quite as stupid as Amos. I looked at the handsome man holding her in his arms and had to take a second glance to determine it was Mr. Stovall. He looked less freaky in casual clothing. I liked this version of the man, who appeared young and hip in jeans and a t-shirt.

  Travis raised his drink in acknowledgement before Julius leaned over to speak into his ear. The movement sent his pelvis pushing into me and I tried to think of any way I could twist around to face him without drawing attention to my actions. Sara winked at me, so I rolled my eyes at her as if this was no big deal. A gorgeous man with a killer body was holding me in his arms, so what?

  When Julius finished his conversation with the new and improved Mr. Stovall, he came back to his original spot behind me and moved his hand cleverly under my shirt and onto my stomach. I suddenly wished I had hit the gym and worked on a couple hundred sit-ups.

  The musi
c faded to a slow let’s get naked beat. He loosened his hold, so I could turn, and then pulled me right against him again. My one hand was still holding a bottle, prohibiting me from holding him like I wanted, but his hands were free to do with me as he wished. I felt them run down my back and move to my hips to hold me tightly against his.

  “This is great,” he said into my ear.

  What was great? The dancing, the club, the song, the part of him rubbing against me? I wasn’t sure how to respond and I wanted to be rid of the stupid bottle. I saw my perfect chance when Amos-tard walked past me. I stuck out my hand and offered him the bottle, which he gladly accepted since food from the garbage didn’t bother him. My hand was now free to run up and down Julius’ back, causing him to move his hands away from my hips and wrap around me tightly. We were getting into trouble pretty quickly and I could feel the effect I was having on him, most likely missing the constant sex being married to a nymphomaniac would have offered.

  My resolve was set; I was determined not to go home with him no matter how much he begged. I would dig deep for inner strength, recite statistics in my mind, and even go so far as to imagine him with Jen if I must. He suddenly loosened his hold on me and stepped back an inch. I wanted to point out I became self-aware before he did, but it was a moot point when we were both still breathing shallowly.

  “I’m getting a little worked up,” he said with a chuckle. I was tempted to argue the inappropriate use of the word ‘little’ from what I could tell. Instead, I took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. Big mistake. He smoldered, as if his body was on fire and smoke was billowing from his grey eyes.