I put the phone down and went into the kitchen. There were a million things to do before my newest roommate showed up, but I felt that procrastination in the name of feeding myself was in high order. I was waist deep in the refrigerator when the “sinking ship” emerged from his quarters. His footsteps echoed down the hall, stopping when he entered the kitchen. I didn't realize he was hanging over the fridge door when I pulled last night's takeout from the back and stood up quickly, slamming the door behind me. As I turned to leave, I ran right into the wall-that-was-Cooper who was waiting. My noodles flew backwards into the kitchen wall, creating some delightful abstract art as I screamed.
“Seriously, Cooper,” I yelled, clutching my chest while my heart pounded in it. “What's with the Creepy McStalkerson routine? It's like a bad episode of Seinfeld.”
“I just wanted to say I was sorry for snapping at you earlier. I'm heading out,” he said, not looking very apologetic.
“Cooper, what's going on with you? Why won't you tell me?” I asked, my eyes pleading for understanding.
“Nothing. I'm just having trouble adapting, that's all,” he answered curtly.
Liar.
“Are you still having the night terrors?”
“NO! Geez, Ruby, what's with the interrogation? I'm leaving,” he said, turning his back to me mid-sentence. “I'll see you when I see you.” I felt his anxiety level spike through the roof at the mere mention of his post-Utah nightmares.
“Fine, Cooper. Do whatever you need to do, but you need to get your shit together before Peyta gets here tomorrow. She's staying with us while her mom's out of town helping with a family matter. She'll be here for a while and I need you stable. Can you manage that?” I asked as condescendingly as possible.
Cooper had always like Peyta, right from the moment he met her. She was nearly as charming as he could be. She was also highly intelligent, and seemed far more mature than her actual age would indicate. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like she may have had a small crush on Cooper, though he seemed to regard her as a younger sister.
He turned to face me, sporting a frown. He was clearly contemplating the issue at hand, uncertain as to whether or not he could pull off what I had requested.
“Peyta will be staying here?” he asked rhetorically. “Yeah. Yeah, I can pull it together.”
He looked troubled at the thought but said nothing more on the matter. He gave a nod as he walked out the door, leaving me to clean up the mess yet again.
I was getting really tired of that job.
4
I spent Friday at the shop alone; Cooper never came home. It wasn't surprising, but it sure as hell was irritating. He had quite a fan base with the ladies who came in, and they were never too skilled at hiding their disappointment when they saw my platinum blond fro pop up from behind the counter. I'd learned not to take offense.
It was also frustrating because I couldn't actually get anything made while working out front. I was going to have to hire someone to do it for me since my current help was unreliable at best. An accountant would also be necessary, since letting Cooper near the books in his questionable state seemed like an IRS audit waiting to happen, and that wasn't a radar I wanted to be on.
At three p.m., a tiny girl with a chin-length black bob came strolling into the shop.
“Hey, Ruby. Ready for some serious girl time?” Peyta asked, smiling from ear to ear. I couldn't help but smile back.
“Sure am, but don't forget that Cooper is in the mix too. He may be offended by the girl time exclusivity,” I said in jest.
She flushed ever so slightly at the mention of his name.
Aha, she's crushing for sure.
“He's got long enough hair to join the girl club. We can make him an honorary member,” she said, putting her backpack down behind the counter.
“I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear that,” I said, visualizing how that conversation was likely to go. It didn't look pretty.
“What time are you done here?” she asked, perching her butt on the counter. I gave her a scathing look, but let her stay where she was.
“I usually close up around five on Friday. I can shut down early though if you're jonesing to do something.”
“No, it's cool,” she replied. “Can I hang out? I love your jewelry…maybe I could learn how to make something?”
Maybe if my degenerate employee was here…
“I can't show you design today, but I’ll be happy to at some point while you're staying with me,” I responded, trying to encourage her. It was then that I had an employer epiphany. “Hey, what time do you finish school?”
“It depends on the day. Typically it's around two, but if I have a study hall for last period I can get out shortly after one,” she said, eying me quizzically. “Why?”
“You want a job? I need help in the afternoon because it's getting busy,” I responded, hoping she'd say yes.
“I thought Cooper was helping you?” she asked, looking a little dreamy-eyed.
“He is…kinda. He doesn't really have a firm schedule. I need someone I can count on,” I said, trying to fudge the truth.
She looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking.
“How's the pay?” she asked, trying to stifle a smile.
“Lousy. You in?”
“Absolutely!” she squeaked.
“Then it's settled. I guess now I can let you eat while you're staying with me.”
She grinned in response.
We spent the next two hours going over the basics of employment at REWORKED. By the end she was able to properly answer the phone, ring someone up, order materials and tools, and cash out for the end of the day. She was a quick study to say the least and I was thrilled to have her on board.
Shortly after five p.m. we closed up and made our way upstairs to my apartment to get some dinner together and figure out what we were going to do for girl time.
“I'm a terrible cook,” I admitted to her. “Dinner usually consists of takeout or popcorn…sometimes both.”
“No worries. I'm a whiz in the kitchen,” she said nonchalantly. “What do you have in the fridge?”
I was silent as she made her way to the refrigerator, cringing while she opened the door.
“Holy cow, Ruby! You have condiments, that's all!” she yelled, turning to me with a face of utter disbelief.
“Takeout it is then!” I said as I opened my magical drawer of menus.
* * *
We got ourselves settled on the couch with our Chinese food and a movie rental. I let her pick something out as I had no clue what was good – I wasn't big into cinema after a lifetime of not being able to see the screen. She'd picked out some teenage angst-ridden movie from the pay-per-view channel, leaving the order screen up so I could read the description. I nearly fell over when I saw that it was about vampires and werewolves, but I managed to keep it together – barely. I wasn't looking forward to Hollywood's take on my genetic abnormality, nor was I at all excited at the thought of Cooper coming home mid-film. In his current condition, I didn't think it possible for him to keep his mouth shut; I was wicked nervous. I sat on the far end of the couch from Peyta, nearest the kitchen so I could escape whenever it seemed necessary. I wasn't entirely comfortable with girl time to start with and the movie choice did nothing to lighten my mood.
Surprisingly, as we got into the film I found myself relaxing more and more. There had only been vampires up until that point, and as far as I knew they didn't exist. I felt more at ease until Cooper walked in the door.
Oh shit.
“Hey, P, how's it going?” he shouted over the deafening volume of the TV. She paused the movie and got up to go greet him. He gave her a huge hug, making a big show of picking her up and swinging her around before putting her back on her feet and walking over to the kitchen. “What are we watching tonight, ladies?” he asked, inviting himself to girl time.
“Twilight,” Peyta answered. “It's a love story between a human girl, a vampire and
a werewolf. Have you seen it?”
My chest and back started sweating almost instantaneously. I was begging internally for him not to blow it somehow.
“No,” he replied, feigning seriousness. “Who do you like the most?”
“I like them both, but I'm pulling for the werewolf, Jacob.”
“Interesting…makes me wish I was a werewolf, too. Seems like they get all the girls,” he said.
I nearly fell off of the couch. I shot a look his way that could have melted ice, and he laughed out loud at me.
“So what do we have to eat over there since the fridge is barren as usual.”
“Chinese. Do you want some?” Peyta asked.
“Sure,” he said, walking behind the couch. He jumped over the back to land in between us, making himself very comfortable – too comfortable. I looked over to see Peyta smiling at the TV screen, and it wasn't the actor she was smiling for.
Awesome. This is so not going to end well – a horny teenager and…well, another horny teenager.
I spent the rest of the movie watching the body language between my couchmates. I didn't really think that Cooper wanted to hook up with a teenager, but he wasn't doing much to deter her crush on him – he was playing into it. It just seemed like a bad idea, which left yet another thing for the two of us to discuss.
When the movie finished I kicked Cooper out of the living room so I could put Peyta's bed together. The pullout couch was surprisingly comfortable, but it was a huge pain in the ass to have to drag out. I gave her sheets to dress it with, hoping it would keep her busy while I cornered Cooper in his room.
“What exactly are you doing?” I asked.
“Not sure what you mean,” he answered, knowing damn well what I was talking about.
“She's a child, Cooper, not one of your drunken whores from the club. Don't you dare even think about messing with her,” I threatened. “If you do, I won't wait for Ronnie to kill you. I'll do it myself.”
He stared at me for a minute without saying anything. Apparently what I said was a lot to process. The truth often is.
“I would never do that, Ruby,” he said, actually sounding truthful. “I like Peyta. She's a good kid. I was just playing.”
“Well don't! Remember that whole 'get your shit together' conversation we had? Try following through with it,” I said as I stormed out of his room, not giving him a chance to reply. In my mind there was nothing left for him to say.
I popped my head out into the living room to see if there was anything else Peyta needed, as well as check to be sure the front door was locked. She switched off the main overhead light while I made my way to Cooper's room, looking in on him as I passed. I gave him my best “I've got my eyes on you” gesture, then made my way to my bedroom. The door closed softly behind me as I collapsed onto the bed. I was exhausted from my babysitting and was regretting my decision already.
Me and my big mouth.
I didn't hear any shenanigans coming from the rest of the apartment all night, so I assumed that Cooper behaved himself. Early Saturday morning I awoke, knowing that I needed to get food for Peyta and myself before we went into work. I made my way to the bathroom beyond Cooper's room. His door was open, his bed made. He hadn't stayed in the house that night.
5
“Peyta?” I called, pushing the door from the back workroom open.
“Yeah, Ruby, what's up?” she replied, popping up like a gopher from the far side of the counter.
“I was planning to shut the shop down early today because I have to head down to Boston. Are you good with keeping it open, or should I stick to my original game plan?” I asked.
“Go ahead and go. If I have any problems, I can just call Cooper,” she replied.
You can call all you want…doesn't mean he's going to answer.
“I guess. You can call my cell, too. I'll have it in the studio with me,” I said.
“OK. Have a good time,” she said with a smile. “When are you home?”
“Late. Probably around ten or eleven. I left you some money for food in the back of the store in an envelope. I don't know if Coop will be around or not, so just worry about yourself,” I replied. “I'll see you later.”
She waved goodbye to me as she greeted the customer who walked in as I was leaving. The store was in good hands for sure.
* * *
I got to Boston around four p.m. to meet with the dance company I'd been working with for the past two months. I'd auditioned at the request of my instructor in Portsmouth. Her old friend, Pam, was the director of the company and had expressed interest in contemporary and jazz dancers. A few of us were hand-selected to go down and try out; I was the only one accepted.
We had a big performance coming up the following weekend and were in full-on preparation mode. That essentially meant the entire night would be spent working out the kinks and perfecting the dances. I was fortunate enough to have a piece I had choreographed included, but I was horribly nervous to see what the reaction would be to it; it varied considerably from the general tone and style of the others.
I walked into the large open room which was mirrored on three of the four walls. The hardwood floors were worn and scraped up from years of use without repair. I saw my partner, Matty, sitting across the room stretching, and waved as I made my way over to him. Matty was an amazing dancer with beautiful lines, and he wasn't hard on the eyes, either. His family was Italian, and he had all the features to match: dark hair, olive skin, and chocolate brown eyes that were warm and friendly. He was wearing his standard uniform of tan cargo shorts with a beat-up tee shirt. Some male dancers tended to come off with an effeminate quality, but not Matty. He looked like an Abercrombie and Fitch model who just happened to be a mind-blowing dancer. Matty had the gift which so many male dancers lacked – he could be graceful and manly at the same time. He was exquisite to watch.
We'd initially been paired based on height, as I was considered quite tall by dancer standards. Ballerinas look long and lean, but they usually max out at around five-foot-six. My five-foot nine-inch frame was a little more than most guys could handle, even though I was thin. Matty didn't have any issues with that. With a powerful six-foot four-inch build, he could lift me like I weighed ninety pounds and not even break a sweat. I was really lucky to have him.
“Hey, Ruby. How was the drive?” he asked, always concerned about my pilgrimage to Boston.
“It was great, no Massholes in my way the whole time!” I joked, knowing full well that Matty was born and raised just south of the city, and would likely not appreciate my slanderous statement regarding the erratic driving skills of Massachusetts natives.
“Well, I'm glad we cleared the road just for you.”
I smiled as I unpacked my gear and stripped down to the basics – black boy-shorts and a white v-neck t-shirt.
“So, are you getting nervous yet?” he asked. “You've never really performed before, right?” He leaned over his right leg to stretch, anxiously awaiting my response.
“Horribly nervous, but thanks for keeping that in the forefront of my mind. It's so comforting,” I replied, smiling at him.
“You shouldn't be. You're an amazing dancer. The best partner I've ever had…even if you are old.”
I smacked him in the arm and laughed, sitting down beside him. Matty didn't look his age so it was easy to forget that he was only twenty-one to my twenty-eight, soon to be twenty-nine. He danced with a maturity that would lead one to believe he was far older. My piece demanded every ounce of that maturity.
We weren't up to practice for a couple of numbers, so we continued to chat as we waited.
“I've been meaning to ask you something, but you always seem to take off as soon as we're done. I never get the chance,” he said conversationally. “The piece that we're doing, 'Gravity', where did you get your inspiration for that?”
Holy can of worms, Batman!
“Um. Well…it's complicated,” I said, trying to evade his question.
&
nbsp; “Bad relationship?” he asked, standing up slowly.
“You could kinda say that, I guess. Dysfunctional to say the least,” I replied, picking at the floor.
“He must've done a number on you,” he said, sounding sympathetic. “Men can be real assholes.” He reached out his hand to help me up from the floor. I accepted his aid with a grin, and soon thereafter found myself standing inches away from him.
“Yes. Yes, they can, Matty,” I replied, finding a need to break eye contact with him. I began brushing the dirt off of my shorts for distraction. “Good thing you're not really a man then, eh?”
“I'll leave that one unanswered,” he said, smiling. “Come on…it's our turn.”
Ever the good sport.
6
Rehearsal ran longer than expected and I couldn't bear the thought of driving home on an empty stomach. Matty and I were both starving so we stopped to grab a quick bite at a coffee shop around the corner before I left Boston. I didn't make it home until almost eleven which left me guilt ridden for leaving Peyta home alone on her second night at my place.
The lights from the apartment spilled out onto the street below when I pulled up outside. I was surprised that she was still up. Maybe she's having trouble sleeping in a new place alone. My guilt ramped itself up even more, and I ran up the stairs, feeling the need to check on her as soon as possible. The door was unlocked, which surprised me, and I made a mental note to discuss the importance of always locking it. Lord knows I had learned that the hard way on more than one occasion.
I peeked my head in, expecting to see her curled up in bed with the TV running. Instead, I saw her and Cooper perched on the couch sharing an enormous tub of popcorn, watching what appeared to be the same movie as the night before. On one side, Peyta was snuggled up with a blanket on her lap, and on the other, Cooper was sprawled out, arms resting along the back of the couch. Thankfully, the huge bowl separated the two of them.
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