by Skylar Dawn
"Good morning ladies!"
"Good morning darling!" The three of them answered in unison.
"How can I help you?" He squatted on the edge of the pool.
"I need your help for the next phase of Emma's training," said Mrs. Dunn. "She's been very stressed lately. That’s detrimental to her progress."
What a lie! I was so zen lately.
"I'm not-" Mrs. Wilson splashed so much water in my face that I swallowed a gallon.
"And she's stubborn about not having a date, it doesn’t have to be a real one. Only something to relax her nerves." Completed Mrs. Dunn.
"It's true." Mrs. Davis shook her head in agreement. "Besides, the poor girl doesn't even know what a decent date is, and if she had one, she would end up with bad role models."
Noah was confused.
"So I take her on a fake date so she can relax? Is that it?"
Mrs. Dunn clapped her hands in excitement.
"That's right! But not this Saturday. She's going to have a double training routine. On the next one. Does it look good for you?"
"Emma," Noah turned to me, "is that okay with you?"
"It's a terr-" Mrs. Wilson sank me into the pool.
"She's doing breathing training now," she addressed Noah. "But it's all good for her."
Noah shook his shoulders.
"That's fine by me. I'll talk to her during the week about Saturday."
"Ah that's wonderful," replied Mrs. Dunn. "Thank you so much!"
"Anything else? I have to get to work early today, I'm kinda late."
Mrs. Dunn shook her head.
"No, no, honey! You're dismissed! Thank you very much!"
"You're welcome."
He walked away in slow steps, shaking his head. He stroke his hair and looked at us one last time. He probably found this idea completely pointless, or he assumed my friends were insane. It could also be a bit of both.
I was outraged! How could they do this to me! I didn't want to go on a date with Noah, it didn't matter if it was fake. I wouldn't even know how to act.
"Oh dear," pondered Mrs. Dunn. "Haven’t you been spending time with him lately? A date wouldn't be any different than what you're used to."
"Not at all! How am I supposed to behave? I won't even know what to say!"
Mrs. Dunn rolled her eyes in disapproval.
"Emma darling, be yourself. That will suffice. It doesn't matter if it's a real date, a fake one, or a friend gathering. It works for any situation."
I was getting into a panic attack because our rendezvous was labeled as a date. I had to change my mind. With a little over a week, the whole idea of a fake date had to sink in fast. Mrs. Dunn was right. I spent too much time worrying about other people's opinions instead of caring about the one I should always listen to. Mine.
The funny thing is, if I was going to analyze it, Noah would always ask for my opinion on his stuff, but I never paid much attention to his. Not out of malice, but out of inattention. It was time to start listening to him more, after all, he was always on my side. And he didn't ask for anything in return.
#
On that Saturday Mrs. Dunn started my pole dancing classes. She believed I would need such skills for my audition, and advised me to prepare myself for any challenge that could come up. She had put a brand new pole in our fitness room, and when I walked in she was hanging on one leg with her arms wide open, swinging from side to side.
"How do you do that?" I asked. "If I tried, I would smash myself to the floor before I could even let go of the pole."
She pirouetted around the pole and let go, falling perfectly to her feet. It was impressive.
"I trained for a long time dear," she smiled. "It’s just like riding a bike."
I laughed out loud.
"If I ride a bike these days, I might need a set of training wheels."
"Always exaggerated," she giggled and gestured to the pole. "Shall we start? Today will be long and painful."
She demonstrated the first movement. It was a simple pirouette, with both feet on the floor. She rolled and leaned her back against the pole, holding it with her other hand. It wasn't as intimidating as I thought and I felt confident enough to try another move.
"That's easier." She held the pole with one hand and walked around, like supermodels on a catwalk. I had the flippancy of giraffe wearing roller skates, but she shot me a pleased look, making me feel even more confidence to continue with the basic moves.
The third was already demanding more strength. I had to hang myself on the pole and twist around it like a fireman. I could hold it with both hands, but the pole had to be placed between my knees.
It didn't work out. I tried to turn and my arms didn't have enough strength to keep me at the same height. I finished a half turn sitting on the floor.
Mrs. Dunn was amused.
"I was setting an example when I mentioned the firemen." She laughed. "You didn’t have to go down for real."
I frowned at her.
"I'm trying, but it sticks to my leg when I turn."
"You're not supposed to use your legs to hold your stance. Your arms are your weapons. They'll hold your weight."
I took a deep breath.
"I’m screwed. My arms are weak."
"Nonsense. Let's try again." Mrs. Dunn tried to encourage me.
I twisted as if there was no tomorrow, so much so, that my legs were on fire, but I still couldn't finish the turn, or even keep the pole closer to my knees. It just slipped down the middle of my thighs.
After a couple hours in the same movement, Mrs. Dunn concluded that it was time to stop suffering for today and dismissed me. I wanted to go home to take a shower, and today, I would see what Noah would have for dinner, because my arms were too tired to call anywhere to order food.
I dragged myself into the bathroom and filled my tub. I was hoping to sit there in a sea of foam until the day I die. I stepped carefully in the tub, to avoid slipping, as my legs were a little wobbly and I sat in the warm water.
I screamed in horror, pain and agony. At once.
My thighs were burning so much that I considered the possibility of being allergic to soap and giving up its use for the rest of my life. I leaned against the edge of the tub and got up to see what the hell was happening and that's when I understood. It was all chafed. I didn’t know if should wipe the towel or stuff my nails around the area in an attempt to divert attention from that damn pain.
No tub for me, I was going to try to deflect the drips from the burnt areas on both legs. And I was going to refrain from putting any drops of liquid soap near there. Damn firemen. At least now I knew why they wore pants on their pole.
Wiping was even worse. I bit one end of the towel, placed the other end gently on the chafed area, took it fast and blew it until it cooled off. Not necessarily in that order. Wearing pants was out of question. First because I could barely stand the fabric against it, and then because it was so hot it could set my pants on fire. I put on a pair of shorts and walked with my legs open to Noah's apartment.
"Why are you walking like this?" He asked from his couch as I entered his apartment.
I dragged myself to where he was and I turned my leg outwards to show him. He made a face that could only be agony, because it reflected exactly what I was feeling.
"This is horrible." He threatened to put his finger on me, and I pulled my leg, terrified. "I'm not going to hurt you, Now let me see it."
I opened my leg again and he touched the chafed area in such a careful way, I didn't even feel it.
"I'll get some ice cubes to relieve your pain," he walked to the refrigerator and took some out of the freezer, handing it to me. "Leave it there for a few minutes. I have an ointment somewhere. It's for burns, not chafing, but it might work."
I sat on the floor of his living room to keep his couch from getting wet and I placed the ice cubes. At first it killed me, but it was so cold that after a while I was relieved. Noah didn't take long to come back.
<
br /> "Lie here on the couch."
I did and he completed.
"Can I apply it on you? It might hurt a little, but I'm not going to press it too hard."
My hands were not light, so it was probably best, for my own sake, to let Noah do it. I couldn’t touch the chafed areas.
"Go ahead." I held my breath expecting the same agony from the tub, but it only hurt a little bit and Noah's hand was so light I didn't feel a thing.
"How did you get that?"
I let out my breath to answer.
"First pole dance class, something about firemen and poles."
He smiled amused.
"These activities you practice are very dangerous."
I cried.
"In fact I didn't know it required so much effort when I chose. I thought I could learn something quick and use it in my revenge plan. " I sighed and decided to ask. "Do you think my whole plan is crazy?"
Noah stared at me with serious eyes, but he kept applying the ointment.
"Depends on the viewpoint. If you keep investing it's because you either feel something for the guy, or you have to prove something to yourself. And whatever the reason, this is something you need to find out for yourself."
That opened my eyes.
"That's very reasonable."
He smiled.
"I have my moments of lucidity, but most of the time I'm thinking about food."
I laughed.
"Then that makes two of us. You think about what you're going to do while I think about what I'm going to eat. "
"Actually, I only need to put it in the oven."
I flashed him a wide smile.
"What are you doing today?"
“Lasagna. Want some?"
"Always!"
CHAPTER Nine
The Date That Wasn't
I needed to double the water gymnastics sessions, so I had the brilliant idea to do another round after dinner, to get that metabolic boost. Not that my theory had any scientific basis, but as long as I followed the plan, and with the audition approaching, I had to keep moving. Of course, after knowing that there were other living beings in the condo, besides Noah, the idea of being seen sweating in a swimsuit to the sound of Beyoncé was one of the reasons for choosing a timetable where everyone was sleeping and far away from any window. And since there was no one watching me, I threw my towel on a pool chair, retreated about five steps to pick up momentum and jumped into the pool like we do it when we're kids, spreading water everywhere. And then I heard an applause.
"The technique is excellent, I haven't seen one of those since the fifth grade," Noah laughed. He leaned on the pool ladder.
"What are you doing hiding there?" I whined, swimming in his direction.
Noah looked at me with a naughty smile and lifted the bottle.
"I was having a beer when you decided to demonstrate your abilities. Do you want one?"
I was glad he didn't used the words empty the pool and I approached him, "I accept." Then I noticed he had a few more bottles ready to go in the ice bucket. "Bad Day?"
"It could be worse," he handed me a beer and proposed a toast.
"It can always be worse," I laughed, "Let's drink to that."
"To worse things."
He took a sip, rested his chin on the edge and closed his eyes for a second. His jaw was tense, as if he was going to say something very serious, but he gave up on the last minute.
"Do you want to talk?" I crossed my arms and stared at him for a moment.
Noah opened his left eye, took the last sip of the bottle and let himself slip underwater. He stood there for a few seconds and then resurfaced, shaking his hair in my direction.
"It's silly, never mind," he opened another beer.
"Anything that requires a bucket of this size," I pointed to the remaining beers, "is far from silly. I’d dare to say is quite serious."
He leaned back on the edge of the pool and lowered his body it until only his neck was out. He looked at the starry sky searching for words and breathed so deep that I almost ran out of breath.
"I got fired," he finally said.
"What?"
He looked at me with sad eyes and then looked down to the water.
"It wasn't the best job in the world, but at least it was a big kitchen."
"I'm sorry," I ran my fingers through his hair and slipped to reach his height, "Did they say why?"
"Fundamental differences, whatever that means."
"And you didn't ask?"
Noah looked at me. His serious eyes were darker than usual, "It's bad enough getting fired. I wasn't going to keep asking."
What did he meat by that? Of course he should have asked, demanded to know the little details. A guy so responsible and dedicated like him, deserved at least a decent explanation. Not to mention that he cooked so well and certainly it was someone's envy inside that hotel kitchen that got him fired. I had seen this before, there is always a friend of a friend who's going to take the job. Absurd. I was outraged, no one had the right to treat my friend like that, it didn't matter if it was one of those fancy Strip hotels.
He started laughing on his own.
"You're making a weird face, you didn't fart right?"
I poked his shoulder underwater, "Stop! I was here defending you in my mind, and you're thinking about odors."
"You wrinkled your nose too hard," he laughed.
"Then imagine how it will be when I fart Noah Cook," I said, feigning indignation.
I thought he was going to continue the fight as usual, but he shortened the distance between us, wrapped his arms around my waist, surprising me with a hug. Noah rested his chin on my shoulder and I hugged him back, as a friend, that's worth mentioning. Nothing special. Then he whispered in my ear.
“Thanks Emma.”
I smiled and let my head drop on his shoulder.
"But I didn't do anything."
"You defended me."
"Inside my head," I murmured.
"It doesn't matter."
He released himself from the embrace in a slow pace. His face was so close to mine that I noticed how the outline of his mouth was beautiful, and with his hair wet, falling over his eyes, it made him super sexy, to the point that I forgot how to breathe. Not that I was paying attention to these things, but when it appears right in front of us, we can't ignore. It's our duty to at least take a peek. But then again, that wasn't the sort of thing I should be admiring on Noah, on my friend Noah. So to turn my head away to the right place, took a dip into the pool and swam to the bucket.
"You want another one?" I asked.
"No," he shook his head and looked at the water. Noah swam to where I was. "I have a better idea."
He rested his hands on the edge of the pool and hoisted himself out. Was he working out? I definitely didn't remember him having all these muscles, and I was used to seeing him shirtless around the house. Okay, I'd already noticed he was handsome, but not at that mega-hot-looking-I-would-like-too-meet-later level.
"Are you working out?" I eyed him in curiosity, my face on fire.
He tilted his head back and widened his eyes, shooting me a confused look.
"Working out, gym... weight lifting," I swam to the stairs.
"Baking cakes count?" He made a thoughtful face. "Why?"
"I don't remember you like this, all handsome."
His face turned scarlet and he burst into laughter, "it's the alcohol Emma. Let's cut your beers."
I climbed the stairs and Noah held the towel in my direction.
"Get Solo and go to my place."
"You're not going to turn him into bacon, are you?"
"If he gets bigger than my sister's German shepherd, it's very likely," he laughed.
"Hey," I protested. "He's not even fat!"
"Barbecue," he laughed off, running up the stairs of our block.
It was always like that with Noah, he wouldn't miss a chance to joke around with me. Well, at least I was hoping this whole thing ab
out toasting Ham was a joke. Of course it was, he could have many flaws, although until now I hadn't found any, but he wasn't going to eat my pig. He actually pampered Ham more than I did.
I passed in front of his door and he held my arm, "Hey!" I said, startled.
"Don't take too long," he winked at me. "I'll leave the door unlocked."
"What a danger," I joked. "I will be right back."
Whatever he was planning, at least his usual smile and good humor had returned.
I wasn't planning on keeping him waiting. I was going to take a shower, put on a sexy outfit, no... dry! I meant dry. It was definitely time to stop having beers and get a big, wide onesie to wear. I knew that in the bottom of my suitcase, my hangover uniform wouldn't disappoint me, so I ran to the closet, took out my suitcase, and began to dig into the clothes I hadn't organized yet because I'm lazy, I mean, because I don't have time. And there it was, gray, huge and completely bland.
Ham was on the bed looking at me, "stop judging me Ham."
He grunted and threw himself down with his paws up, begging for affection.
"You can," I scratched his belly, "you are the cutest thing in this entire town."
I wore my onesie and had a mini moment of celebration because it was even bigger! What a joy! I put Ham under my arm and went to Noah's apartment. Inside was dark except for the light from the kitchen and the television screen in the living room.
"Lock the door," Noah gestured with his wooden spoon. "I'm doing a bucatini for us."
"Four cheese?" I walked to the living room and let Ham down on the couch.
He shook his head, "all'amatriciana. I ran out of gorgonzola. But you'll like it."
I sat next to Ham, looked at the TV screen and burst out laughing, "Episode IV? A New Hope? "
"Solo needs to know his origins," he chuckled.
"You’re nuts."
He put the sauce in his right hand and licked it, "and today I'm not in such a good mood. You can play the movie. I know every line by heart."
I grabbed the remote control on the coffee table and did as he asked, but I confess that his cell phone buzzing right next to me was annoying, not that I cared about his calls, but three times in a row was too much. I glanced out of the corner of my eye and read her name, Jesse, along with a picture of a woman that could be a super model, a brunette version of Gisele Bündchen and my stomach twitched.
