Preaching to the Choir

by Kitty Parker

  Just as the music in my head reached its climax, the shadowy figure reached me. A pair of hands grabbed my thighs and I screamed bloody murder, casting my eyes up to the heavens and praying for salvation. My friends all looked at me like I was insane.

  "Shh, Lotte! Stop screaming! It's just me!"

  I brought my eyes down to look at my assailant. It was Kurt. I should have known.

  "You DICK!" I screeched, splashing him. "You scared the SHIT out of me!"

  He looked taken aback and put his hands up in a sort of 'don't shoot' type of gesture. "Whoa! Calm down! I was just messing around!"

  I took a deep breath to steady myself. "Don't you EVER do that to me again, Kurt Matthews!"

  "Sorry," he said sheepishly.

  There was a bit of an awkward silence.

  "Hey guys, what's going on?"

  I turned to look at the stairs leading into the shallow end of the pool. Matt had arrived, looking happy as usual. Taking in the scene before him, he furrowed his brow in mild confusion.

  "Wow, it looks like I missed something," he said.

  We all just stared back at him dumbly. No one really knew how to explain what had just happened without sounding incredibly weird.

  "Alright then…" said Matt at length. "Um, anyone want to have a chicken fight?"

  "I'm in," said Eden, grateful for the change in subject.

  "Awesome." Matt beamed at her. From my position, I noticed him subtly check her out, but not in a pervy way. Matt was definitely too sweet to be a perv.

  "C'mon, guys, we need someone to go against!" Eden begged the rest of us.

  I looked around at my friends. Bryce, I knew, would not want to play. The last time he was in a chicken fight, the girl had fallen off of his shoulders and accidentally kicked him, giving him a bloody nose. I also knew that Jane preferred to watch the rest of us make idiots of ourselves and laugh at us as opposed to joining in.

  Wanting to appease Eden, I volunteered to play.

  "Alright!" she happily trilled, giving me a high five.

  "Kurt, man, how about it?" asked Matt.

  Kurt thought about it for a minute, then agreed.

  "Great!" Matt clapped his hands together. "Alright, me and Eden versus Kurt and Lotte."

  Dammit. I wanted to kill that bastard! Being on Kurt's team for a chicken fight meant having to sit on his shoulders. I definitely owed Matt a beating.

  Eden happily climbed up onto Matt's shoulders. I took a minute to look at them. They looked so natural together. He said something in a hushed tone to her and she giggled, causing him to smile brightly up at her. It was completely adorable! The two of them would make theperfect couple. If they didn't start dating soon, I knew that I'd crack.

  "C'mon, Lotte. Climb up." Kurt bent over to allow me easier access to his back.

  Awkward, much?

  I placed my hands on Kurt's strong back and attempted to sort of vault onto his shoulders. This was an abysmal failure. I ended up going too far and sliding off right over his head, falling face-first into the water and letting out a large 'oof.' Needless to say, everyone had a good laugh at my expense.

  My next try, Kurt tried ducking down underwater while I swung my legs over his shoulders. This time, we succeeded.

  Now, I'm not going to pretend that it wasn't weird to have Kurt's head between my legs. Believe me, it was. I tried not to let it show, though, and acted as naturally as I could. This wasn't particularly easy, since my body was betraying me. I was getting that strange warm and fluttery feeling in my abdomen, probably due to the close proximity of a person to my, ahem, sensitive area. The fact that this person was Kurt had absolutely nothing to do with it, I was sure. Just hormones, you know? It didn't help, of course, that Kurt put his hands up on my upper thighs to keep me from falling off.

  Like some weird behemoth creature, Kurt and I approached Eden and Matt.

  "Let the chicken fight begin!" shouted Bryce from down below.

  Eden and I reached our hands out toward each other and began to shove, each of us trying to make the other fall off of her partner's shoulders. We grunted as we pushed each other, neither of us willing to lose.

  Suddenly, I caught sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of my eye. Niels had come up onto the deck and was walking toward the snack bar dressed in nothing but swim trunks. Oh damn he had a nice body. I completely forgot about the chicken fight and stared at him.

  I didn't get very long to look, though, cause Eden noticed my lack of attention and promptly shoved me off of Kurt's shoulders.

  Screeching, I tried to steady myself by tightening my legs around Kurt's head. This ended up pulling him down as well.

  "What the-" he began to shout but was cut off as I dragged him underwater.

  Um, oops?

  Kurt surfaced first, and when I came up for air, I found him glaring daggers at me.

  "Sorry…" I said uncertainly. "About, um…losing."

  Kurt huffed. "Well, you didn't have to drag me down with you."

  "Oops?"

  "Yeah, oops." Kurt crossed his arms over his chest indignantly. I mimicked him.

  "You guys fight like an old married couple," Bryce found it necessary to blurt out. "And someday we're all going to be at your wedding going, 'You remember back in the day when they hated each other?' Then we'll all make cheesy toasts at the reception and get drunk off our asses, except for Kurt and Lotte, who will be off having wild, crazy sex in their honeymoon suite."

  Everyone was silent for a moment.

  When I couldn't contain myself any longer, I burst into a fit of laughter. Bryce was just completely ridiculous.

  "No way!" snapped Kurt defensively. "The two of us?" He waved his arm frantically, gesturing at both of us. "Not going to happen!"

  Jane let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like "denial."

  "No need to panic, man," said Matt, raising his eyebrows. "It's not like we're accusing you of homicide or something."

  "I'm not…panicking…" Kurt trailed off, biting his lip.

  Everyone else just rolled their eyes. Boys are so stupid.

  ----------------

  After leaving the pool and coming back to my berth, I was incredibly glad to hit the shower and wash the stench of chlorine out of my hair. I shut myself in the small adjoining bathroom and stripped, turning the water on to warm up. As per usual, I sang to myself.

  Strangely, my mind began to wander as I stepped under the soothing stream of water. I didn't like the direction it was going in, either. I'd start thinking about Niels and other attractive people of the male persuasion, and then all of a sudden, Kurt's face would pop out of nowhere. This was incredibly aggravating, to say the least.

  As I lathered the soap in my palms and rubbed it gently onto my body, I briefly wondered what Kurt's hands would feel like caressing the same places. I then became incredibly disgusted with myself for having such thoughts and shook them violently away. God, even when Kurt was nowhere near me, he still made it his job to torture me!

  The stupid prick had been a thorn in my side ever since I moved to the United States. After the sauerkraut incident, there had been many more. Kurt had pulled my hair, spilled drinks on me, chased me at recess, stolen my paste in art class, and committed various other obnoxious acts that continuously added to my distaste for him. One time, he even put a frog in my desk. I suppose he thought it would creep me out, but he didn't stop to consider that it was me. I ended up naming the frog "Schatzi" and making a pet out of it. I think that sort of stole Kurt's fire, since he stopped bothering me for another month or two.

  I never did figure out why Kurt liked to pick on me so much. I didn't think I was an easy target or anything. When I was 11 or so, I asked Hans if he knew. He tried to explain it to me, using some weird analogy that was beyond the scope of my intelligence at the time. Needless to say, I had no idea what he was talking about. I didn't bring it up again.

  I think the only time I'd ever gotten along with Kurt was for about a mon
th in tenth grade, right after his grandfather passed away. Maybe it was just some kind of natural compassion (or maybe it was the fact that my brother told me he'd pound me if I antagonized Kurt while he was mourning), but I actually made an effort to be nice to him. I smiled at him in the hallway, refrained from saying rude things, and generally tried to be kind. I remember one time when I found him alone, sitting on the steps of the school and looking out over the fields:

  "Hey. You alright?" I asked.

  He sighed and looked up at me with the most pitiful face I had ever seen.

  I sat down next to him and joined him in staring across the fields.

  "You want to talk about it?"

  There was a long period of silence.

  "I really miss him." Kurt bit his lower lip.

  I nodded in understanding.

  "He was a pretty big part of my life."

  "I understand." I placed my hand on his back and slowly rubbed up and down. "It's not easy to lose someone, I know."

  I looked at Kurt and noticed that a lone tear had found its way out of his left eye and was beginning to course down his cheek. I reached over and gently wiped it away. My actions were in vain. The dam suddenly broke, and Kurt's tears began to flow freely.

  Not knowing what else to do, I pulled him into a hug, letting him cry on my shoulder and rubbing soothing circles on his trembling back. I suppose some people would have disliked seeing a boy cry, but I had always been taught differently. My parents had always told me that crying was important for letting out the sadness that we all keep bottled up in our souls. I really did believe that it was true, since I'd always feel better after a good cry. I thought that crying would help Kurt, and I knew that he was just as entitled to a few tears as I was.

  "I feel so embarrassed for crying in front of you," Kurt mumbled into my shoulder.

  "Don't worry," I said. I ran a hand through his light brown hair as though I was stroking my cat Fritzi. "I don't mind."

  At age sixteen, it had been strange to find myself in such a tender moment with someone I had despised since I was seven. I went around very confused for a while, not knowing how to act around Kurt or what to expect from him. Luckily for me, though, he solved this problem for me with the "Lacy Bra Incident" two weeks later. After that, our relationship returned to what it had always been: mutual antagonism.

  There was a loud banging on the door, startling me out of my reverie.

  "Lotte, are you almost done?" Jane shouted over the sound of the rushing water. "I need to get in there."

  "Yeah, hang on," I shouted back, rinsing the last of my shampoo from my hair. I shut off the water, stepped out of the shower, and dried myself off with one of the fluffy white towels. Wrapping it around myself, I opened the door and stepped back into the berth.

  "All yours," I said with a smile.

  Jane rolled her eyes, but grinned at the same time, then went into the bathroom and shut the door.

  Padding across the carpet toward my suitcase, I picked out a comfortable pair of boxers and a tank top. After slipping these on, I bent over and towel-dried my hair.

  There was a knock at the door. I flipped back over, causing my hair to slap against my back, and went to answer it. You can imagine my surprise when I saw the delicious German hunk waiting just outside.

  "Niels?" I asked. "Was machst du hier? (What are you doing here?)"

  He smiled down at me, his blue eyes twinkling. "Du hast mir deine Zimmernummer erzählt. (You told me your room number.) Ich habe gewünscht, dich wieder zu sehen. (I wanted to see you again.) Ist das ok? (Is that alright?)"

  Oh, the Lotte-flavored Bavarian goo was back. I was turning into mush.

  "Natürlich ist das ok. (Of course that's alright.) Es ist gut, dich zu sehen. (It's good to see you.)"

  Yeah, real smooth, Lotte.

  "Dich auch. (You too.)" He smirked and allowed his eyes to travel down my body. "Tolle Kleider. (Nice clothes.)"

  I looked down at what I was wearing and immediately blushed.

  "Also, (so)" Niels continued, chuckling lightly at my reaction. "Wie wäre es wenn ich dir ein Paar Minute gäbe? Um dich zu kleiden, ja? (How about I give you a couple of minutes? You know, to get dressed?)"

  I had to smile at that. "Das wäre gut. (That'd be good.)"

  Niels bit his lip hopefully. "Dann können wir vielleicht einen Film sehen? Ich glaube, es gibt hier ein Kino. (Then maybe we could see a movie? I think there's a movie theatre here.)"

  My smile broadened. "Ja, gern. Ich komme in zehn Minuten daraus, ok? (I'd love to. I'll be out in ten minutes, alright?)"

  "Toll. Bis dann. (Awesome. See you then.)" With one last smile, Niels headed off down the hall. I quietly shut the door.

  "Jane!" I shouted as soon as the latch clicked shut. "Jane! Get out here!"

  The toilet flushed, the sink ran for a bit, and then Jane burst out of the bathroom door.

  "What? What?" she asked, panicked.

  "I need you to help me find something to wear! I'm going to a movie with Niels in ten minutes!"

  "Niels?" She raised an eyebrow in confusion.

  "Yes, Niels!" I shouted, exasperated. "You know, the hot German guy that I ran into in the stairwell!"

  "Oh, that guy!" As comprehension dawned on her, Jane rushed over to my suitcase and started tearing through it, tossing random articles of clothing onto my bed.

  "What about this?" she asked, holding up a jean miniskirt and a red halter top.

  "I'll look like a whore!" I complained.

  "Fine!" she said, rolling her eyes and continuing to dig through my suitcase. "What about this?"

  I examined the black tank top and dark-wash jeans that she held up. "Jeans yes, shirt no."

  "What about the jeans with that halter top?" she asked, referring to the red shirt that she had previously suggested. "Showing a bit of skin, but still classy."

  "Yeah, that's good," I agreed. I didn't mind wearing a short skirt or a halter once in a while, as long as it was accompanied by a much less revealing piece, for instance, a skirt with a polo, or a halter with long pants. You get the idea.

  I quickly threw on this ensemble and pulled my makeup bag out of my suitcase. Jane grabbed her handheld mirror from her purse, and I seated myself on the floor in front of my bed. Jane sat behind me and began to brush out my long blonde hair.

  I've never liked to use an enormous amount of makeup, so I merely dabbed some cover-up onto the few red spots on my face, dusted a bit of natural-colored eyeshadow onto my lids, and swiped a bit of mascara onto my lashes. I topped it off with just a dab of light lip-balm.

  Jane fixed my hair into a messy bun, wanting me to show off my back in the halter. She sprang up from the bed, dug in my suitcase, and finally came up with a bottle of perfume: DKNY Be Delicious, my "signature" scent (meaning, the one I always wore).

  "Stand up," she ordered. I complied, and she squirted the perfume in the air, instructing me to walk through it. She repeated this bizarre action twice, then deemed me ready to go.

  "Knock 'em dead!" she said with a wink, then shoved me out the door.

  Niels was waiting for me. He greeted me with a charming smile that made me want to melt.

  "Sehr schön. (Very beautiful.)" He offered me his arm.

  Feeling the butterflies acting up in my stomach, I linked my arm with his, and we started down the hallway toward the movie theatre.

  I smiled to myself. It was going to be a great night.

  ----------------

  The movie theatre on board the cruise ship wasn't exactly your run-of-the-mill suburban multiplex. For one thing, it wasn't showing any movies that were out at the time. Instead, it opted for old, marvelous classics like Casablanca and Some Like it Hot.

  Now I will say, if there is one part of American culture that I completely adore, it's film. I don't mean that we Germans haven't produced our fair share of fantastic movies. Trust me, we have. But honestly, nothing beats a classic Hitchcock thriller or a metaphor-riddled piece by Stanley
Kubrick. You've just got to love those films.

  Anyway, the film that Niels and I ended up getting tickets to was one of my very favorites: Alfred Hitchcock's Rebecca. Romantic, yet creepy enough to warrant a little hand-holding, it was my idea of an ideal date movie.

  Still holding hands, Niels and I made our way into a pair of seats in the middle of the theatre. It was fairly crowded, and there was a group sitting right behind us, their faces obscured in the dim light, but we did have some space on either side, so we weren't too cramped. I settled down into the plush red seat and made myself comfortable as the previews began.

  Niels had bought some popcorn, and we began to munch on it, all the while keeping up a running commentary on the movies that would be coming out soon.

  "Zu schmalzig, (Too cheesy)," I declared after the first preview.

  Niels murmured his agreement.

  "Interessant (Interesting)," he said after the next.

  "Ja, aber Mel Gibson gefällt mir nicht. Ich halte ihm für einen Arschloch. (Yeah, but I don't like Mel Gibson. I think he's an asshole.)"

  Niels laughed, causing the person in front of us to turn around and give us "the look." You know, the condescending one with the half-raised eyebrow and the slight eye-roll? Yeah, that look.

  Flashing the jerk in front of us a charming grin, Niels turned to whisper in my ear. "Ich stimme dir zu. (I agree with you.)"

  I almost shivered as his breath tingled the tiny hairs along my neck. He allowed himself to stay like that, his face dangerously close to mine, for a moment or two before slowly retreating to his seat with a grin.

  I waited for my shallow breaths to even out. Wow. The movie itself hadn't even started yet, and I was already flustered! I had to hand it to him: Niels certainly knew how to flirt, and he was damn good at it.

  After two more previews (one for an interesting looking drama, and one for a gory slasher film that I had absolutely no intention of seeing),Rebecca finally began.

  "Last night I dreamed I went to Manderley again…"

  As the dream-like voice of Joan Fontaine drifted from the speakers around the theatre and the camera began its long, moonlit journey up the drive toward Manderley, I quietly shifted my weight so that I would lean more toward Niels. He picked up on this out of the corner of his eye and smiled. Slowly, he reached his hand over to find mine and gave it a squeeze, holding it gently in his.