Scales and Flames

by Catherine Banks

  Shit, shit, shit. I lost track of time walking down memory lane, and now I’m going to be late. I haven’t even had my coffee this morning. Ugh. Happy fucking Monday to me.

  Jumping in the shower before it even has time to warm up wakes me up faster than any caffeine rush. I speed through washing and rinsing my hair, my body, and my face, before I quickly dry off and throw my clothes on. Thank goodness I decided to lay my outfit out the night before. It’s a beautifully simple light gray cotton dress that has short sleeves, a high scoop neckline, and a fitted bodice that gently flares out at the waist, down to mid-calf. I pair it with a cute light brown belt and matching wedge heels.

  After throwing on some light makeup, and pulling my hair up in a quick chignon, I grab my purse and keys, and run out the door.

  I arrive at the school, with five minutes to spare, and head to the break room for some coffee. Thankfully the school’s is decent. I majored in psychology and enjoy being a therapist, especially to those kids whose lives I can make a difference in. Even if it’s only while they are at school. Once they leave it’s out of my control.

  “Good morning, everyone!” I say to the other teachers still hanging out in the teacher's lounge, sounding far more chipper than I’m feeling. Nods, waves, and couple “Good Mornings” are the normal as I make my way to the coffee pot. Pouring my cup, I feel someone come up beside me. Mark Emerson stares down at me from his height.

  “Hi, Mark,” I say, with a small smile.

  “Good morning, Nyla. How are you today?” His over friendly tone sends dread through my stomach.

  Is he going to ask me out again?

  “I’m good. And you?” I walk the few steps over to the refrigerator to get the French vanilla creamer I keep stocked here, and pause. Damn, I forgot to grab my lunch. Looks like I’ll be getting school lunch today.

  Mark clears his throat. He doesn’t even wait for me to raise my gaze to his, which should have been warning enough for what he was about to ask.

  “Would you like to grab dinner with me on Saturday?”

  “Mark….you know I think it’s a bad idea to date co-workers,” I say quietly, not wanting the others to hear our conversation. I hate drawing attention to myself, and I don’t want Mark to feel bad for being rejected in front of our fellow teachers, again. Why can’t he take a hint? I’m not interested in him like that.

  “Of course. It would just be as friends.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

  My chest tightens, regret a feeling I despise. Why does he keep putting us through this?

  I sigh quietly. “That sounds good.”

  Maybe we can just hang out as friends. I can’t remember the last time I went out with anyone, other than Lanie in, well forever. There just hasn’t been anyone that catches my eye or gives me butterflies when I think about them, except for the man in my dreams.

  There’s nothing wrong with Mark. He’s always sweet, kind, funny, and a complete gentleman toward me. At six feet tall, he pulls off the surfer look well, with his shaggy blonde hair, and crystal blue eyes that sit behind a sexy pair of black rectangle framed glasses. I just don’t feel anything more than friendship for him. Why can’t I like him? He’s gorgeous.

  He places his hand on my elbow. “Great! How about Fox and the Hound around seven?”

  After a slight pause, I smile. “That works...and I’ll meet you there.” I don’t want him to pick me up and get the wrong idea that this might be a date.

  Meredith Hawke, the language arts teacher, walks by. She is around my age, maybe a couple of years older, and attractive. A perfect distraction for Mark when we hang out. Should I feel bad for thinking of her as just a distraction?

  Holding my hand up in a wave, she turns in my direction. “Hey Meredith, Mark and I are going to Fox and the Hound Saturday. Do you want to join us?”

  She smiles and takes a few steps, closing the distance. “Sure, I’d love to. Do you mind if I ask my boyfriend if he wants to come too?”

  Shit. She has a boyfriend. Oh well, they can be a buffer between Mark and me.

  My smile is forced. At least there will be more people, not just the two of us now. “It will be fun.”

  Mark leans against the counter. “We’d love for you and your boyfriend to join us. We are meeting at seven.”

  “Sounds great. Can’t wait to see you there,” she waves before heading to her first class.

  Relief flows through me. “I hope it was okay that I invited some friends to join us.”

  His smile still looks forced when he replies. “It’s okay. We’ll hang out and play some pool and darts.” This may not be what he originally had in mind, but it’s for the best. Hopefully he will realize that sooner rather than later. Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, though.

  “Okay. Just be prepared to have your ass handed to you,” I taunt as we leave the lounge, trying to lighten the tense situation.

  He laughs as we split to go in opposite directions.

  The tall man with dark hair, hazel eyes, kissable lips, perfect teeth and a body to die for flashed through my mind. Why can’t I be normal? But this dream guy pulls something deep inside that I try to hide.

  I’m lost in thought when Mark calls back over his shoulder, “As if that will happen.”

  Still chuckling, I let him have the last word as he heads to teach science to seventh graders while I retreat into the solitude of my office.

  Once I’m settled at my desk and start up my computer, I pull out my phone and shoot off a text to Lanie.

  Hey girl, when can you do lunch? You’ve put me off too long, I need my Lanie fix.

  It’s not long before I hear my phone buzzing with her reply.

  HELL YES!! Sorry girl, it has been forever. How about Friday at Abuelo’s for dinner? I’m in the mood for some Mexican.

  Yumm. Sounds like a winner!

  Yes I knew it would be! LOL

  Does 6:30 work for you?

  I’ll see you then!

  Sure will! xxx

  For a Monday, it flies by, and soon I’m heading home without any more awkward encounters. Once I unlock the door, I toss my keys in the mosaic glass bowl I keep on a hutch in the foyer, and walk into the kitchen. I’m in the mood for alfredo tonight, so I pull out all the ingredients and get started. I love to cook, even though it gets lonely eating by myself. I guess that's why I agreed to hang out with Mark on Saturday. It will be nice to hang out with someone other than myself and Lanie. She has been busy lately, so it’s mainly been myself. Her restaurant is really drawing a crowd these days; which, I knew it would, and her dishes are amazing. Of course I think it is; it’s Italian - the only food group there is - and my best friend’s place.

  I cut and sauté some chicken breasts with garlic, boil my Cavatappi pasta al dente, steam some broccoli and mushrooms, then toss it all together. After pouring a glass of a chilled Pinot Grigio, I walk into the living room and get comfortable on the couch. Turning on Rizzoli and Isles gives me something else to focus on, other than my never-ending thoughts, and allows me to escape into their world of mystery, crime, drama, and love. Actually, their friendship is a close representation of Lanie and me.

  Two

  The hostess starts to escort me to my table when I hear “Hey girl!” I look over to see Lanie waving at me from a corner booth. She has already ordered chips, salsa, queso, and guacamole; our usual.

  “Hey girl! I’ve missed you.” I lean over and give her a quick hug. She settles back into the booth, and picks up a chip, dipping it first in salsa and then in the queso. It's one of my favorite combinations, so I pick up a chip and follow suit.

  “I've missed you too. The restaurant has been crazy busy lately, and I’ve been spending more time with Mom,” she says with a huff.

  “How is Esme? I haven’t seen her lately either. It's good that you’re busy. I told you it would be a success, and not to fret so much.”

  Lanie nods her head. “I know, but you know I worry. I was afraid it would be a flop. And M
om, she's good. Being her usual overbearing and controlling self.”

  That’s exactly how I would describe Esme. I love her like a mom; their place has been like a second home for me since Lanie and I became besties. But overbearing is her second name.

  I still haven’t told Lanie about my crazy dreams. She would most likely put me in a mental institution if I told her that I’ve been dreaming about dragons, witches, vampires, fairies, and other supernatural creatures that don’t exist. Or that I have seen her using magic in my dreams. Plain bonkers, is what she would say. But I’m also tired of keeping it to myself. At least when my mom was alive, I could somewhat talk to her about it. Even though she didn’t give me much of a response, I didn’t worry about her reactions. Now that I’m older, it makes me wonder why she wasn’t more concerned with these dreams I have.

  But, we have been friends since elementary school. I should be able to trust her enough to share this with her. Sometimes I wonder if I know her better than I do myself. She has been there with me through all the good times, bad times and the hard times. Surely, she would stick with me through the crazy times as well.

  The waitress walks up to take our order. “Good evening, ladies. What can I get you tonight?”

  I smile at the waitress, who had walked up while I was lost in my thoughts. “I’m going to have two tacos, with rice and beans, and a Corona, please.”

  Lanie glances at the menu again. “I’ll have a chicken burrito, with rice, and I’ll take a margarita along with a water.”

  “You got it. I’ll take those menus, and be right back with your drinks.” We nod our thanks as she walks away, and I turn my attention to Lanie.

  “Have you figured out where you are going to take your vacation? I know you have some time built up. Maybe we can go somewhere together this year.”

  “The restaurant is finally stabilizing; I think I can leave it for a week or two, and not worry about it burning down. Or I could have Mom stop by and check on it,” she says with a tinkling giggle. I laugh with her because, we both know how that would go. Lanie would come back to no employees. It shouldn’t be funny, but it is.

  “Do you have some free time tomorrow evening? We could get together, have a girls’ night in, and vacation plan,” she asks, as she comes back down from laughing so hard.

  “Yeah that sounds good.” I pause. “Shit, I can't tomorrow unless I cancel on Mark. Which, now that I think about it, doesn't sound like a bad idea.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You are going out with Mark?! Hot, dreamy, surfer dude, co-worker Mark? When did this happen? I thought you didn't date people you work with. Besides, you know I have the hots for him!”

  Shit! I completely forgot she thought he was hot. Granted, the last time she saw him was at one of the other teacher’s houses for an “end of school” barbeque last year. I thought she had moved on; she hadn’t mentioned him since a couple of months after that cookout.

  “Well he asked to hang out as friends, so I invited Meredith and her boyfriend. We are going to Fox and the Hound at seven. You want to join us and then afterwards, we can go back to your house?”

  “Hell no, you ho! I don't want a pity invite,” she says with a pout, which makes her Cupid’s bow mouth more prominent. My bestie is definitely a looker. I can't help but laugh at her petulance.

  “Are you coming or not, Lan? You know I would love for you to come with us. Actually, I forgot about it until just now. And you’ve been so busy we haven’t gotten to talk as much as usual,” I state, with an equally cute pout, batting my eyelashes at her.

  She shakes her head at me and laughs. “I can't believe you just forgot about a ‘hang out’ with that hunk. Hmmm…actually, I can.”

  “I expect to see you there at seven pm sharp, looking your usual gorgeous self and grabbing all of Mark's attention, like the ho you are.” I wink at her.

  “Alright, since you’re forcing me to. I guess I’ll see you there.” Her mock exasperation is humorous, especially since I know she wants to be there.

  “You should wear that slate blue wrap dress, with the spaghetti straps and white, vertical stripes. The one that shows off your legs.” Her light blue eyes brighten, and a mischievous smile plays on her lips. She knows exactly which dress I’m talking about.

  “I think I will. Maybe I can pry his attention away from you.”

  “Pffft, I don't have his attention. Besides once you get there, no one will even look in my direction.” Which is kind of what I’m hoping for.

  Her “yeah, right” look is followed by a raised brow. “Come on, Nyla, don’t be daft. That man has been enchanted by you for quite some time. You’ve just been oblivious to it. ”

  The waitress brings our drinks and sets them on the table. Lanie licks the salt rim and takes a deep draw from the straw, a satisfying sound leaving her lips right after. I squeeze the lime wedge into my corona and take a swig.

  “Rough day at work?”

  “More like rough month. I need a vacation. Preferably somewhere warm and tropical, with lots of alcohol. ”

  “I hear ya, sista. I’m here for you whenever you need a listening ear, you know that. I’m thinking Hawaii this trip. Let’s go big.” That gets a laugh out of her. Then our food arrives, and our attention strays from the vacation planning. We dig into our meals, catching up on everything else we have missed, and at the end of the evening, pay the bill. It used to be a point of contention between who would pay, so we started alternating. It's her turn; she snatches up the bill as soon as it hits the table and ignores me, as if I was going to fight her over it this time. That would be like beating my head against a brick wall. We've both learned that the hard way. I shake my head and smile. I don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.

  Three

  I stand in front of my closet, trying to find something to wear to Fox and the Hound. I want to come off as casual and friendly, and not at all like I’m trying to impress. I'm hoping he will start noticing Lanie tonight, and redirect his attention. My poor bestie has had her sights on him for a while now, and he seems oblivious. But he is a man, so enough said on that matter.

  I settle for a pair of denim skinny jeans, a teal peasant top with a scoop neckline, and some black ankle boots. To finish up my ensemble, I leave my mother’s necklace on, put silver hoops in my ears and add some light makeup. I walk toward the door grabbing my black purse on the table, and head to my car.

  It only takes me about fifteen minutes to arrive at the sports bar about quarter till seven. Walking in, I look around for my group of friends. I see Mark on the far right-hand side of the place beside a pool table and some dartboards. Looks like he scored us a nice spot. I told him and Meredith by text that I also invited Lanie tonight. Meredith confirmed that she would still be here.

  I notice him checking me out as I walk through the bar, and grab a seat at the high top table. Damn it. Guess I didn't try hard enough, but I'm sure his attention will be diverted once Lanie gets here. Speak of the devil, here she comes.

  “You look great, Nyla,” he says, his eyes still glued to me. I briefly glance at him, not wanting to make eye contact longer than necessary.

  “Thanks, Mark. Here comes Lanie!” She walks over to us and he looks at her. She took my advice and wore the wrap dress, leaving her naturally platinum blonde hair cascading halfway down her back in soft waves. I watch as his eyes take in her five-foot-six frame; curvy body with long legs showcased by her dress. When they travel back up to her face, he smiles, which she returns, bashfully.

  “Wow, Lanie. You look stunning!” This time she blushes, and I'm speechless. I can't recall a time I’ve ever seen her act shy, much less blush. I guess I didn't realize how much she really likes Mark. I knew she wanted to fuck him, but her actions show me it might be so much more than that. Well shit. I'm a horrible friend. That will need to be rectified.

  “Thank you, Mark. That is sweet of you to say. Hope you don’t mind me crashing your hang out.”

  “Of course not. W
ould you ladies like something to drink? On me.” It seems things are turning around, thanks to Lanie, because that’s certainly not how he seemed when I first told him.

  “Sure, I would love a margarita on the rocks,” she replies.

  “I'd love a frozen margarita with extra salt. Thanks, Mark.”

  He winks at me. “Two margaritas coming up.”

  Not long after he leaves, our waiter comes up to our table, with a couple of waters.

  “Do you think we should go ahead and order a couple appetizers?” I ask, looking at Lanie.

  She shrugs. “Sure, let's get some boneless wings and spinach dip.”

  I turn to the waiter. “We have others joining us in a little bit, so we’ll wait on them to place the rest of our orders.”

  “Sounds good. I'll have those appetizers out to you shortly, and check back with you guys,” he says.

  We both nod, and Lanie leans toward me. “Mark looks yummy tonight. He was definitely checking out the goods.”

  “Yes, he was. I'm sure he will be a goner by the time we leave tonight, and we’ll have to cancel our girls’ night in.”

  “Pfft. As if I would put out on the first date,” she says with a wink.

  “But this isn’t a first date.”

  “Exactly,” she replies with a mischievous look. I know that look well.

  “Uh oh...” I start to retort, but Mark walks up with several drinks in his hand; two margaritas and two draft beers, amber in color, probably Yuengling. Another of my favorites, but I’m in a tequila mood.

  I take a big sip of my margarita, licking the salt off the rim, and look at the two across from me, actually staring into each other’s eyes and carrying on a conversation. I can’t hear what they are talking about because the music's too loud, so I use the opportunity to look around the place for a few moments. It makes me realize how lonely I’ve been feeling lately. There's a pang in my chest, a hole that needs to be filled, and immediately, an image of the man from my dreams pops into mind. Damn it, man! I seriously need to get laid or better yet, find a boyfriend that gets my juices flowing. I should really tell Lanie about these dreams; not the ones about him, per se, but the others. Who else could I confide in, if not my best friend?