by Nick Braker
“Hold it together just a little while longer, dude,” Asher said. “Soon some petite, cute thang will be screamin’ your name in a semi-believable tone.”
Brandon managed to get his feet under him with some help from Greg.
“I just need to get a few more beers in me to settle the nerves. I’m not like you. You just flash a perfect, white smile and blue eyes and have the women falling at your feet.” Brandon nudged Greg, smirking. “You think Ash believed that shit I just said?”
“Sadly, yes,” Greg nodded vehemently.
Everything had changed for the worse after Beth died. Asher never thought of women the same again. Besides, Brandon was just jealous of his approach with the girls. He had a system and it was now part of who he had become. It was always best to start out with something simple, like introducing himself. Lines like you must be a fallen angel and God broke the mold after making someone as perfect as you got more blank looks than positive results. No script, just wit and thinking on his feet. Practice makes perfect and the perfect opening, tactically thought out, was almost as sweet as the closing. It was all part of the process and the process was a game, as the ever-changing prey gave him more practice for his next quarry. Asher gave Brandon his white-toothed grin and a little nudge, causing him to stumble back a bit.
“You had better be quick with the drinks then. I have my smile armed,” Asher waved his arms around in no particular direction. “And I can’t promise I will leave any of tonight’s female festivities for any of you beta males. So let the games begin, bitches.”
“Dude, those beers have made you worse than usual,” Greg told him.
The front door was open as he was finishing and a young woman walked through it. She had fiery red hair and mint green eyes. Her corset-like top was laced with a denim material colored the same as her eyes. It revealed an athletic body, definitely one that he could enjoy. He nudged Brandon to get him to close his mouth. That was part of Brandon’s problem, he had no sense of tact when he got around women.
It was time to turn on the charm and start his approach. Asher widened his smile and lifted his eyebrows slightly. Her eyes were amazing. He noticed two more things about them. There was a pool of intelligence behind them and they were not locking onto him. He followed their gaze and it led to... Greg.
What the hell?
Greg was still checking the directions and hadn’t even noticed her. The redhead walked past both Brandon and Greg, and was now walking by him.
“Asher, and you are?”
Without looking at him, she threw up a hand to acknowledge his greeting.
“Games begin, bitches,” she said. “Moron.”
Greg glared at him with his mouth open, obviously upset she had heard Asher’s comment.
“Dude?” Greg said. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Asher ignored her. There were others inside. No point wasting any time on this one. He let the guys stand there gawking as the redhead walked away. She did know how to walk it. She put one foot in front of the other like she was walking a tightrope. Her hips moved side to side with obvious grace. Of course, his friends were focused on her departure.
Asher mocked Greg’s glare.
“Greg, if you had removed the deer in the headlights look from your mug, you could have been tappin’ that. You should have moved on my comment and acted disgusted about my bitches’ remark with her. Damn, do I have to think of everything? Get some caffeine or some shit like that and play... the... game... bro.”
“Kiss off,” Greg said. “Something is wrong with... fuck it, never mind.”
Asher wanted to ask him what he was going to say when someone cleared their throat behind him. They all turned in unison. Asher put this woman in the blond category. Her dark brown eyes seemed to drink them in. She had a smile that was as wide as her face.
“Hello there,” he said. “You must be the front line to keep out the party crashers. I would like you to know that we received an O-fficial invite and my crew and I are looking to partake in the festivities.”
Okay, Brandon can have this one.
She wore an aqua green dress that came down to mid-thigh. It had spaghetti straps over the shoulder. Her ample breasts seemed to be pushing the neckline low, very low, which exposed lots of real estate. He managed to bring his eyes back up. A gleam came to her eyes as Asher once again settled on them.
Damn, busted.
The redhead still had him irritated. He had been too focused on the guys earlier, missing his shot at her.
“Yes, this is where the party is, and you are more than welcome. My name is Darla,” she stepped out of the doorway, swinging one arm toward them as if to sweep them up and push them in through the door.
The guys filed into a big common room. Asher’s eyes swept the room looking for any other ladies. He spotted a group of lounge chairs setup in a circle near the center area. This was probably were the girls gathered to talk. Someone was already sitting there with their back toward the door. He could see her cropped, bright red hair but little else. His mind went back to the redhead leaving as they walked in. Hopefully the rest of the ladies here were just as gorgeous.
A movement to his right caught his eye. Brandon and Darla walked through a doorway that likely went to the kitchen. He caught the word beer in their conversation just as they disappeared. He took a step toward the chair with the redhead but he came up short. Greg was already standing there. He picked up something from the floor to hand to the girl.
Smooth. I had my head turned and Greg starts making his move.
Greg was talking to the girl in a calm manner. He wasn’t even tripping over his words like he normally would.
“That’s it, Greg,” Asher whispered. “You get out of that shell you’re in.”
Asher scanned the rest of the room while listening to their conversation. She asked if Greg knew anything about nuclear fission, colliding particles, black holes or antimatter. Greg nodded at her. Asher shook his head in disbelief. How could Greg hold a conversation with a student at M.I.T. over obviously complex scientific principles? It was a great pickup line, doomed to failure or Greg had been pounding the books on the side.
Well, whatever works for you, my friend, whatever works.
She introduced herself to Greg as Trilla. Her voice rose in pitch as she talked. Asher shrugged and joined them, trying to get a better view of her. She was a heavyset girl with dark brown eyes. Her bright, red hair had black roots and she had a mole on the right side of her upper lip. They might be nice girls but they certainly weren’t anything like the one that walked out earlier. Another girl, apparently hearing their conversation, waddled into the room and plopped down on one of the other chairs. She had on a black dress that did nothing to flatter her figure.
Be tactful. This is most likely candid camera or some shit like that. If not, stay cool and we can always make a hasty exit.
She introduced herself as Agnus.
“Damn nice to meet you, Agnus,” he said.
She nodded at him but joined the conversation with Greg and Trilla. Asher let out a subtle breath of relief. The three continued to talk about antimatter, completely ignoring him. Asher’s eyes grew even wider as Greg continued to hold his own with them.
“Are you looking for some brown sugar there, honey?”
The question came from across the room and pulled him away from the boredom. Weston was addressed by a woman with light, almond brown skin. She had a husky build to her and spoke with a low rough voice for someone her age. She wore a dark brown African styled head wrap, gray jeans, charcoal tee shirt and gray jacket with brown stripes on the cuffs and collar. As if that wasn’t enough, she was sitting in a brown leather chair. The whole image seemed to be void of any significant color. Weston had a forced, half grin on his face and stood there in stunned silence. She raised her left hand from the side of the chair. The cigarette in her hand sent tendrils of smoke rising to the ceiling. Well, that explains the voice. She shook her head from side
to side.
“Let me guess, my beauty has you dumbfounded and you can’t decide which set of my lips you want to kiss first,” she said as she glanced at her crotch.
Weston’s eyes were twice as big now as they were moments ago. His head dropped as his mouth fell open.
“Oh, don’t mind Monique guys.” Darla said. “Her bark is worse than her bite.”
She and Brandon had walked back into the room holding enough beers for everyone. She tried to hand Weston a beer.
“What do you mean? Give me twenty minutes with him and I will have him howling at the moon from the things I can show him,” she said as she leaned forward enough to smack Weston on the butt. The movement jarred him out of his stupor.
“Do you have anything stronger?” Weston asked, moving toward Darla.
She gave Weston a bubbly smile in return as she sat down in a chair next to Monique. Darla raised the hand holding her beer. She pointed with it to another room.
“We have a liquor cabinet in that room. We don’t have much. Some of the basics really. If I recall correctly, we have some Jack, Seagram’s 7, and Jim Beam.” She raised her voice as if just remembering. “Oh, and some Crown if Monique hasn’t finished it off.”
As if on cue, Monique pulled up a glass with her right hand off the floor. It looked like it had cola in it and he assumed some Crown Royal. She took a drink and licked her lips.
“I will share more than my Crown with you after you’ve had a couple glasses of this.”
Weston didn’t say a word, he just turned around and walked into the other room. Asher politely grabbed two beers from Darla.
“I think some boilermakers would be good,” he said, smiling.
Extra wrinkles appeared at the corners of Darla’s mouth. Asher followed Weston to the other room, finding him talking with someone new.
“We are here for the party.” Weston said.
Weston’s voice sounded stressed with strange fluctuations in the pitch. Entering the room, his glance fell on Weston who was shaking. He focused on the person beyond Weston. The guy he was talking to was a big fellow. His face was round with a smile that went straight across it. He wore a black tee-shirt with Gothic symbols surrounding a dagger and a standard pair of jeans. The way he held his head, chin lowered, eyes looking slightly up gave this dude an evil guise. His hair was down to his shoulders and flattened. Asher nudged Weston’s shoulder, beer in hand, to get his attention. What was wrong with him? They had hung out in some rough bars with guys looking much worse than this one. He let his forearm settle on his shoulder and purposely swung the beer in front of him as a cover to shake him out of his torpor.
“Come on, man, let’s make some boilermakers,” Asher said.
Weston’s eyes finally locked onto the beer and his hand slowly clamped around it.
“Yah, I could use that about right now.”
His speech was slower than normal but at least it was a start. Asher approached the liquor cabinet when the Gothic dude raised a hand.
“Will you make me one of those?” the guy said, in a voice that sounded like a ten-year-old girl.
Asher stumbled the rest of the way as his mind worked overtime trying to match the voice to the person.
“Sure, I would be glad to,” he said automatically.
He opened the cabinet and grabbed two oversized glasses and two shot glasses.
“They call me Twinkles. What are your names?”
There was that voice again. It just didn’t fit. He had assumed it was a man but he was wrong.
“I’m Weston and this is Asher,” Weston managed, this time with a little less distress in his voice.
Several images started going through his mind like the gorgeous redhead that walked out the door when they arrived. No, she was a perturbed and angry gorgeous redhead. He had thought she was upset at having four guys staring at her and hearing his bitches comment but now he realized she was already upset. Next was the sorority sign. It looked like a temporary sign fitted over an existing, established structure. Finally, he remembered Greg telling them that they had not arrived as per Jules’ directions. He should have realized Greg was too meticulous to make a mistake like that. Asher couldn’t help but smile to himself. These girls had intentionally set this up to divert anyone heading to PDD to stop at their party instead.
They want adventure? I’ll give them adventure.
He opened up the beer that he still held and poured it into the glass. He grabbed the Seagram’s 7 since the Crown bottle was empty and in the trash beside the cabinet. He poured two shots. Grabbing the two beer glasses, he handed the one with beer to Twinkles and the empty one to Weston.
“Go ahead and pour your beer, Weston.”
He heard the ka-tissssh of Weston’s beer opening and the noise it made pouring into the glass as he grabbed the shots. He put on his best party face and turned to Twinkles.
“Mix or dunk?” he asked her.
“I don’t know. What do you prefer?” she said.
Just ignore the voice.
“Well, it is a boilermaker, therefore I like to dunk it. Like this.”
He held the shot over her beer, just hovering a little above the frothy liquid.
“Be ready to drink,” he said quickly.
The shot glass dropped from his fingers causing a slight splash and an immediate frothing of the beer. Her eyes got bigger as she stared at it. He turned and without needing to say anything to Weston, dropped the other shot glass in his beer. Weston didn’t waste any time and downed his. Twinkles pulled the glass away from her mouth as Asher looked back at her. Her mouth was lined with beer froth which made her look even more masculine. Weston downed his in one session catching the shot glass with his mouth and turning it up to let the remaining liquid drip into his mouth.
“That’s better,” Weston said, his voice calmer. “I’d like another.”
Asher patted him on the back of the arm and started walking toward the door.
“Hold that thought, my good man. It is time that we moved forth to our real destination.”
Relief flooded Weston’s face.
“What? We’re leaving? Hell yeah,” Weston said, excitement leaking out. He caught himself. “I mean, well okay, if we must.”
He followed Asher back into the common area.
“No, please don’t go,” Twinkles said.
Asher felt the vibrations in the floor every time she took a step toward them. He understood the name now.
“Greg, Brandon... devious detour noted. It is time to boogie,” he said, raising his voice loud enough to be heard over the music and talking.
Greg looked up from the scientific papers Agnus had been sharing with him. Greg’s interest was evident in them but he’d already picked up on Asher’s tone. They were leaving. Darla jumped up and moved to stand at the front door as if to block their exit.
“Please don’t go. Stay a little while longer,” she pleaded.
Monique shook her head at Darla.
“Don’t go making a fool of yourself, Darla. You don’t need make yourself their bitch when they don’t want you to be. Now sit your ass back down and let these white cream puffs hold their pencil dicks in one hand, their flat asses in the other and scurry on out.”
“They’re not good enough for my chocolate cream filling anyway,” she added under her breath.
Asher took in several other things happening at the same time. Agnus told Greg to call her if he needed more information, Trilla sunk down deeper into her chair with obvious disappointment, Twinkles walked in like a sumo wrestler and made the floor shake with every step, and finally Darla, with her not-so-perfect looks, caught between two worlds and only feeling accepted in the one where everyone else made her look skinny. He raised a hand and the room fell silent.
“Ladies,” Asher said. “I applaud you for your ruse, nicely done. What you really need to do is get out of here and meet some guys. Invite them back here for a party and do it on the up and up.”
As
her continued.
“Now then, we have others that did invite us. Being gentlemen of our word, we would like to do what we told them we would and actually show up.”
He smiled inwardly, knowing his comments made him and his friends sound honorable and would also throw a hint of guilt back at the girls. It was time to end this encounter on a positive note. He never liked burning his bridges with anyone. It was part of who he was now. An instant thought of Beth brought back his rage but he pushed it aside. Some days it was easier than others.
“Ladies, it is obvious that you possess a great deal of intelligence. That was a nice piece of work you came up with.”
Darla and Monique shared a grin and a nod to each other.
“Trilla, Agnus. Anyone that can grab Greg’s attention and hold it as long as you did must be pushing a 180 IQ or better. And Twinkles, don’t think I didn’t see that book on particle physics in there. Every one of you has something to offer to someone special. You just need to make sure that what you are offering is genuine. Well, it’s time we exit this detour and move on. We have a date with destiny and I am afraid that if we tarry much longer we are going to miss it.”
“You’re alright for a half-cocked, skirt-chasing, white boy.” Monique said. “If you decide you want some chocolate milk for a change, you come on back.”
“I just might do that,” Asher said, grinning. “But howling at the moon is not quite on my must do list.”
Asher followed his crew toward the door, stopped and smiled back at Monique.
“--and who said chocolate milk was a change?” Asher added, smirking at her.
After everyone loaded into the car, Asher slid into the seat. Darla waved at them as she took down the fake PDD sign.
Good for her.
The quiet in the car was awkward. Asher pulled out and once they were back on the road, a snicker escaped Greg’s lips and they all burst out laughing.
“You are navigator from here on out,” Asher said, pointing to Greg. “And Brandon, you go back to announcing mile markers.”
