I offered her a twice-folded twenty-dollar bill, but she refused, claiming we were having a business lunch. I laughed and told her we should have chosen something a little fancier. She thought that was hilarious, and promised to make it ultra fancy next time.
She returned to the table with our lunch. We ate the delicious food, and talked about the art center for about an hour. Gretchen explained the goals and visions she had for the place, and I was completely honest with her about my insecurities. I told her that I'd taken dance for years, and feel confident teaching children, but studying dance in college was still a goal for me, and I wasn't sure I would be taken seriously until I had that level of formal training under my belt. Gretchen explained how she'd quit school to work at Paradise Island, and totally identified with the feelings I was having.
"I think you and I can and should work on our degrees," she said. "It's healthy and necessary for us to continue to learn if we intend to be good teachers, but that being said, I know we'll do a great job in the meantime. We're hiring two art teachers, a creative writing teacher, and a business coordinator so I can concentrate on the theater. You'll head up the dance department, so you'll decide how much and what kind of help you need." She could see that I was still a bit reluctant at the thought of heading up a program. "You're gonna be great. And a lot of our projects will be collaborations, so we'll be there to support each other."
"I guess if the kids are getting it for free, it doesn't really matter if I mess up a little," I said. I knew insecurity was unattractive to someone who was trying to hire you to do a job, but I wanted to make sure she remembered I was only nineteen. She assured me she had every bit of confidence that I'd do an outstanding job. I was truly looking forward to the experience, and promised her I'd do my very best.
"Now that we've got all that squared away," Gretchen said, "there's something else I wanted to ask you." I looked at her curiously, not able to guess what sort of topic might need an introduction like that. "Joel and I both wanted to ask you if you'd be interested in renting the guest house from us," she continued. "We have so much room in the main house, and neither of us really expect any out-of–town guests anyway." I remembered Rachel mentioning this to me, so it didn't surprise me that this was what she brought up.
"That's really sweet, and the amount we discussed for my position at the center is more than fair, but I'm still not sure I could swing the rent in your neighborhood," I said. I was smiling, hoping to avoid any awkwardness. I hated talking money with friends, and Gretchen and I had already done a fair amount of it during this conversation.
"We'd only charge you what you're paying now," she said.
"How do you know what I'm paying now?" I asked.
She giggled. " I don't, but whatever it is will be fine. How much longer do you have on your lease?"
"I'm actually subletting it from my friend who broke her leg. She moved back in with her parents so she'd have help during rehab."
"So you're going to have to find another place soon anyway?" she asked. She was looking at me like the universe was telling us that moving into her guesthouse was the only logical choice.
"Yeah, but Gretchen, you could rent that to someone who could pay you what it's worth," I said.
"We don't want to rent it to just anybody," she said. "It's not like we need to rent it. We just want you to live back there. Besides, it'd be cool to have Sal around."
I thanked her for the offer, and told her I'd think about it. She said I should just plan on moving in once my friend needed her apartment back. I honestly couldn't quite believe it. Everything seemed too good to be true, so I had to let it sink in.
"What happens when your friend's leg is all better?" Gretchen asked. "Does she just get her spot back on the team?"
"Nobody gets their spot back," I said. "She's out for the rest of the season, but next summer, she'll have to re-audition along with the rest of us. No one's guaranteed a spot from one year to the next."
"Seriously?" she said, surprised. Then I could see her expression change as she reconsidered. "I guess that makes sense, that's just crazy to have to do that every year. Do you think you'll try out again?"
"I do… I'd love to do it for at least one or two more years, if they'll have me. I'm having fun, and I love all the girls." Then I added, "I don't think I'll have any problems scheduling the art center stuff around my Laker schedule."
Gretchen assured me we could make it work, and even said she felt confident I could add some college classes to the mix. I knew it may take a while for my life and financial situation to be settled enough to apply for school, but I was happy she seemed to want that for me.
We ended up having to take the conversation outside so we wouldn't tie up the table any longer. We sat on a concrete half-wall that separated Taco Sister's parking lot from the neighbors and spoke for another hour. I'll never know how she did it, but by the end of the conversation, she'd somehow made me agree to move into the guesthouse as soon as my friend wanted to move back into her place.
I was so thankful for all the lucky breaks I'd been catching lately. A few months ago, a rich guy paid me and a few of the other girls in my Vegas show five hundred dollars to walk around a penthouse party and mingle with his guests. At the party, I met a tall, handsome swimmer named Ethan, which led to friendships that changed my life. (Okay, maybe saying they changed my life is a little dramatic, but they certainly changed my living situation.)
Once I made it back to my apartment and had time for everything Gretchen and I had talked about to sink in, I called Ethan to fill him in. It had only been a couple of days since I saw him at the New Year's party, and I was a little nervous about seeming too eager. He didn't pick up the phone. I told myself he was probably still at the pool since it was the middle of the day. I almost hung up, but decided at the last second to leave him a voicemail.
"Hey, it's Emily. Emily Roth. I was just calling to see what you were up to. You don't need to call me back or anything, I just wanted to let you know I'd be moving since Gretchen offered to let me rent her guesthouse. I could never afford a place like that under normal circumstances, but she and Joel happen to be incredibly sweet. I haven't seen it, but I heard about it, and I'm pretty sure it's freaking awesome. Anyway, I'm rambling. Sorry. You don’t need to call me back or anything. Oh, geez, I think I already said that. Hope practice went well today. Talk to you soon… or sometime, whenever. Okay. Bye."
I stayed on the line after the dreaded beep finally happened. Unfortunately, his voicemail didn't give me the option to delete my message. I cringed as I hung up, knowing I'd just recorded what could be the longest, dorkiest voicemail of all time. I was tempted to call back and record another, apologizing for the first, but I knew doing that would just make matters worse.
Two hours later, my phone rang. It was Ethan. I'd been hoping he'd text me instead of calling, so I could avoid any more nervous ramblings.
Me: "Hello?"
Ethan: "Nice message."
I could tell, even over the phone that he was smiling.
Me: "Ha-ha, very funny. Don't be mean. I was just excited about my new place."
Ethan: "You know I'm just playin with you. That sounds really cool."
Me: "We talked about my job at the art center too. Gretchen made me feel a lot better about college and everything. She said she thought I wouldn't have a problem fitting school into my schedule whenever I'm ready to do that."
Ethan: "See? I told you there was nothing to worry about. When are you moving in?"
Me: "I'm still waiting to hear back from Christie, but it'll be sometime within the next few weeks, I'm sure."
Ethan: "What are you doing now?"
Me: "Like right this second?"
Ethan: "Yeah."
Me: "If you want to know the truth, I'm just sitting here being bored. I took Sal to a dog park, and now I'm on my couch thinking about what to eat for dinner."
Ethan (laughing): "No game tonight?"
Me: "No. I'm off
till the fourth. I'm used to the gaps in between Laker games, but I don't know what to do with myself since the dance studio is closed for a couple of weeks in between semesters."
Ethan: "Why don't you bring yourself to San Diego?"
I answered with a laugh as if his question had to have been a joke.
Ethan: "What?" It's not like it's a long trip. Just get in the car and come on down."
Me: "That'd be great… if I had a car I thought could make the trip."
Ethan: "Your car won't make it to San Diego?"
Me: "No, I'm just joking. My car would make it fine."
That was a lie. I was just too embarrassed to tell him the truth. In the weeks since Christmas, my car trouble had gone from bad to worse. My car, which had an automatic transmission, refused to shift any higher than second gear. This little problem meant I couldn't get on any roads where I needed to go any faster than 40 miles per hour. (I could go 45 if I had to, but that was really pushing it.) I'd brought the car to three different mechanics, and the lowest quote for the job was just over two thousand dollars. My whole car was barely worth two thousand, so I wasn't about to sink that kind of money into it. It worked fine for getting me around town as long as I stuck to slower streets.
There was no way I was going to share my car troubles with Ethan so instead, I said,
Me: "I'd love to, but I have Sal to think about, and work at the studio."
Ethan: "All right, I get it. I'm just gonna have to drive to L.A. if I want to see you. I'll make it up there sometime soon, Unfortunately, I can't just drive up there anytime I feel like it."
I told Ethan I was proud of him for the hard work he was putting into his training, and I'd never want him to sacrifice practice time to drive up here. I encouraged him to keep pushing his hardest, assuring him that we'd get to hang out soon. I didn't tell him that I'd be there in a heartbeat if I could drive my car on the freeway.
Chapter 10
Ethan
I was at the pool for at least six hours every day, so fitting in a trip to L.A. was out of the question, and as far as I could tell, Emily had no interest in making the trip down to San Diego. She told me herself that she had a few days off work, but then turned around and said she couldn’t come.
I really didn't know what to make of the mixed signals I got from her. I enjoyed being around the girl. We had a similar sense of humor, and were constantly joking and smack-talking. Not to mention (in spite of it being the only thing she let me do) I really enjoyed kissing her. Her pillowy mouth just begged me to put my lips on it. I just couldn't get enough of that thing. Maybe it was the fact that she was such a challenge compared to other girls, but something about Emily stuck with me even when I did my best to forget about her.
It was the first Friday night of the new year, and even though she had the night off, and I invited her, she wouldn't drive down here to see me. Some guys might be patient enough to wait around for a girl they really like to come around, but I've never been the patient type. A man has needs, and mine include female attention. If Emily didn't care about making an effort to come see me when she had the day off, then I was certainly going to take her up on the offer to keep our relationship on a casual level. To a guy, this is the same as a free ticket to sleep with other girls. That's exactly what I planned on doing tonight. I needed to be asleep by 2AM to get a decent enough night's sleep to train in the morning, but the night was still young, and I was about to take out my Emily frustration on some lucky (or unlucky depending on whether or not you're into that sort of thing) lady.
"Oh shit," Josh said, as he came into the living room.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"You have on cologne," he said.
"Why would you even notice something like that?" I asked.
"Because every time you wear cologne, you bring a girl home," he said.
"Yeah? So?"
"Who do you think has to talk to the girl when you get up and leave for the pool in the morning?" he asked. "I mean, most of the time they're well aware of the fact that you won't be calling them again, but that doesn't make the conversation any less awkward."
"You've talked to girls I've brought home?" I asked. That was news to me.
"Of course I've talked to them. Think about it. It usually happens on a Saturday or Sunday morning, and I'm off on those days. It makes sense that I'd be in the apartment when they leave."
"Shut up, dude. Don't act like I bring girls home every weekend," I said.
Josh smirked and cocked his head as if I were trying to pull a fast one on him.
"Do you seriously have yourself believing you don't bring home girls almost every weekend?" Josh asked.
"Please!" I said, laughing. "But let's get out of here because tonight's one of the nights when I will be bringing one home."
"Fuckin-A," Josh said. "I hope she's got a friend."
****
Her name was Avery, and she had a friend all right. She had a few of them, and one of them was willing to come with Avery to my apartment to take part in the night's festivities. I knew Avery through a mutual friend. She's a tall drink of water that I'd met a few times at college parties during the past few years.
There was just one tiny little problem.
Emily.
For some reason, I couldn't shake the feeling that having a good time with Avery meant I was doing wrong by Emily. No matter how much I tried to convince myself that I had no commitment with Emily whatsoever, I still didn't feel right about everything that was about to go down with Avery.
"You said you wanted to get out of here by midnight, and that was thirty minutes ago," Avery said. I was sitting on a barstool, and she was standing next to me. Her hand was on my thigh, creeping closer and closer to my Johnson. I turned slightly, and her hand fell away an inch or two. She stuck out her bottom lip and looked down at my lap. Josh was sitting on the barstool next to me, talking to one of Avery's friends. I hated to spoil the party, I really did, but I just wasn't feeling like I could do anything with her tonight. I found myself wishing I knew what happened during the past couple of hours to change my mind, but somehow my interest in meaningless sex had diminished completely.
"Hey," I said, leaning over to talk to Josh, "I have to be up in the morning. I'm gonna go ahead and take off."
Josh looked at me as if I'd just said the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, then his gaze shifted to the lovely ladies standing around me. "You must be kidding," he said. He smiled, thinking for sure I was joking around.
"I'm serious," I said. "I'm leaving. Coach has been tearing me up this week, and it's catching up to me." I handed him two twenties from my pocket. "You're gonna have to take a cab if you want to stay." He pushed my hand away.
"Christ, Ethan. You're seriously leaving… by yourself?" He asked the question loud enough for Avery and her friends to hear. They stared at me with expectant looks on their faces.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't realize how late it had gotten, and I really need to get some sleep for work in the morning."
Avery ran her hands from my shoulders down my back in an effort to tempt me to change my mind. "I can make you feel nice and relaxed for work in the morning," she said. She was whispering in my ear, and the feel of her breath was enough to stir that male need I'd been ignoring. It wasn't like I didn't want Avery. In fact, until just a few minutes ago, I had every intention of sleeping with her (and perhaps one of her friends). The problem was, I only wanted to sleep with her. I didn't want to talk to her, or joke with her, or even kiss her. Normally, I'd just go with my sexual instincts. Tonight, for some reason, I wasn’t feeling it.
I had to physically take Avery's hands off of my waist before I could start fishing in my pocket for my car keys. The girls I'd been talking to had their pouty faces on, and Josh was staring at me, confused. Josh's lady was just looking at him like none of the rest of us were even there.
"Sorry about the ride," I said, looking at Josh. You can ride with me now if you guys are ready t
o get out of here." I smiled and gestured to the girl he'd been talking to. He looked at her and raised his eyebrows in question. She answered with a shy smile and a shrug. He smiled broadly and stood up, offering her his arm. Without a word, they decided to come back to our apartment for some privacy, and I was apparently going to be their chauffeur. Avery and her friend must have realized I was serious about leaving because, aside from the disappointed expressions, they didn't attempt to get me to stay.
I ended up literally chauffeuring Josh and the girl to our apartment. Josh offered her shotgun, but she said she'd rather ride in the back with him. He gave me a look from over the car that said, "What am I gonna say to that?" and I smiled and rolled my eyes, telling him to go ahead and sit in the back. How the heck did I go from making plans to get nasty with a couple of girls to dateless driver? I blamed a dancer named Emily for the demise of my perfectly good Friday night, and I was planning on giving her a piece of my mind about it the next time I saw her. I wanted to give her a piece of something else, but God knew that wasn't likely to happen.
I went directly to my room, thankful for the private bathroom. The last thing I wanted to see was Josh and the girl making out on the couch all night before he got brave enough to take her to his room. I poured three fingers of scotch into a glass, which was partying for me, and went to my room for a not-so-hot shower. I put on my over the ear headphones to listen to some music before bed. I was using my phone to listen to music, and after I chose an album I liked, I decided to give Emily a text.
Me: "You up?"
It was after one o'clock in the morning, and I was almost certain I wouldn't hear back from her. I stretched out on my bed, laying my phone on my stomach while I continued listening to the music. Seconds later, my phone vibrated.
Emily: "Yes, but what are you still doing up? Records aren't going to get broken by themselves. I thought you'd be sleeping."
Me: "I almost had sex with some random girl tonight."
Emily: "Jesus Ethan. What about that statement did you think I wanted and/or needed to hear? Are you drunk?"
Second String (In Too Deep #3) Page 7
