by Bellus, HJ
“You’re not a loser, Olivia, I’ve seen you in action. Your students adore you and that Connor is a fool.”
“It’s not the first time,” I admit.
“That you’ve had pasta thrown at you?”
“No,” I swat his arm. “I’m not that big of a psycho. I mean a bad date. Actually, I’ve never had a good one.”
“I’m sure your exes would say different.”
“There are no exes.”
He’s stopped at a red light, and looks over to me. “Well then, the world is missing out Olivia Olander. I’ve only been around you a few times and can tell you’re a great person.”
The radio of his car interrupts us. I can’t believe how easy it is to talk to him. I should be mortified with the state I’m in and to be sitting in his car. His voice is hypnotizing as I listen to him report back to the station about his night.
“It’s been pretty quiet. Two speeding tickets and one domestic call. Oh, and I just nabbed the bush beating bandit of the county.”
My eyes instantly grow to the size of golf balls and I send another punch to his arm. He clicks his radio back on the stand.
“Damn, I’m going to have to charge you for battery against an officer too.”
I stop the question before it spills out of me, making the situation incredibly uncomfortable, but I want to ask if that would require cuffing.
“I’m so embarrassed.” I cover my face.
“Don’t be, Olivia, if you only knew some of the things I see on my shifts.” He pauses to sniff the air. “But you are making me hungry.”
My insides melt and pool together. I’d let Officer Sexy eat me anywhere and anytime. It’s like he’s reading the crimson flush racing across my face and my thoughts.
“I mean, your sauce is making me hungry.” He slams his steering wheel with one hand. “Shit, that sounded even worse.”
I can’t help but laugh at the whole damn situation. “Yes, I’m hungry too.”
“Dinner?” he asks.
“But you’re working.”
“If I get a call, then we’ll have to go.”
“My sauce.” I point to my clothes.
“It’s sexy and Italian is my favorite.”
He exits the car and thankfully doesn’t notice me turn the color of a purple beet from his compliment. He’s just a nice guy, Olivia. For shit sakes, he’s a community figure just doing his job with possibly a side of flirt.
I jump from the car before he has the chance to open my door.
“This has been my favorite diner since I was a young girl,” I squeal under the bright red lights of Gravy Doug's.
“You’ve been here?” Oren asks in a shocked voice.
“Yeah, been coming here since well, I was in my mother’s womb.” I pause. “Well, that was awkward. But seriously, best place in town.”
“I agree. I love hometown diners like this one.”
“Oh my God, Oren, a chicken fried steak smothered in brown gravy right now sounds sooo good.”
He grabs the old metal door handle to the diner and before he opens it, he says, “It’s nice to see you smile, Olivia.”
The asshole has manners to boot; using compliments combined with his killer looks, I’ll never be able to look at another man the same. I wish he’d just morph into a captain dickhead right now so my wild imagination of me riding off into the sunset with him would diminish.
“Miss Olivia, we haven’t seen you forever.” Dolores, my favorite waitress, scurries over to me, giving me a one-arm hug while balancing a coffee pot in the other.
“Yeah, sorry; spring is hard, wrapping up the school year.”
“How’s your father?”
“Super busy and loving it.”
“Good to hear, dear. Pick a booth and I’ll be right over.”
“Thanks, D.”
I take a couple of steps from our one arm hug and hear Dolores greet Oren and tell him to sit wherever and instead of being an ass and embarrassing her, he just nods.
I sit in the booth and decide to spill it. “I’ve never had a boyfriend, I’m a bit awkward, loyal, own a dog named Pedro, and was raised by my dad since the age of nine.”
The last part nearly rolls off my tongue, but I bite the end of it before I do and taste a smear of blood in my mouth.
“I like it.” He nods, crossing his fingers on the table.
“You like it?” I ask.
“Yeah, I do. It’s simple and honest.”
“I guess.” I push the menu to the edge of the table.
He relaxes back, stretching his arms on the back of the booth. I feel his legs sweep by mine under the table. “What should I order, Miss Olander?”
I blush when he calls me by my last name. “Um, you should get the homemade finger steaks, so I can steal one off your plate and dip it in my gravy.”
“So you want to steal one of my sticks and dip it in your gravy?”
“Ass.” I giggle and burry my face in my hands.
“I’m sorry. It’s too easy to get you, Olivia.”
“Tell Dolores I want the norm. I’m going to go scrape some of this shit off of me.”
“Deal.” He winks as I slide out of the booth.
When I look into the bathroom mirror, I wince in horror and disbelief. I really look like a walking plate of pasta. The brown paper towels in the bathroom are comparable to thirty-six grit sandpaper, but after soaked in warm water, do the trick of wiping away the mess from my skin. I don’t even try to wipe the shit away from my jeans. My tank is mostly clean of debris and then to my hair. I finger comb the dried up sauce and noodles out the best I can, then add some water to my locks and wring it out with a paper towel. It’s better than it was, but still not pretty.
“Dolores said you drink Diet Mountain Dew, so that’s what I ordered.”
“Perfect.” I smile back to Oren. “What do you think of my Extreme Pasta Make-Over?”
I do a twirl before I sit down.
“I do like to eat so I’m a bit sad all the morsels are gone.” He smiles, never breaking his stare.
“What a night!” My elbows plant onto the tabletop and I rest my chin in my cupped hands.
“You are gorgeous, Olivia, and I’m going to leave it at that because I’m on shift right now.”
“Could I use your phone?” I ignore his compliment on the outside, but on the inside I melt a bit more.
Oren doesn’t hesitate as he reaches down into his belt and holds out his phone.
“It’s my personal, so feel free.”
“Just going to text Scout, you know, the ladyboner gal in my room.”
Oren only nods as he sips his black coffee.
“She’s my best friend and Mr. Perfection Pasta was her boyfriend’s cousin.”
“Sisterwives?” he asks.
I stick my tongue out at him as my fingers race across the screen. I keep the message simple and tell her not to reply to this number and that I’ll call when I get home.
I chew the rest of my meal in silence and just enjoy the eye candy before me and like a perfect prince, he lets me dip his stick in my gravy with no question.
His phone chimes halfway through our meal. “I think this is for you.”
He hands me the phone after he’s read the message.
Unknown: OMG Are you getting it on with someone? Just don’t let a homeless bum steal your V card, O.
“Did you happen to read this?” I ask, peeking up at him through my fingers.
“Want me to lie?” he asks smiling a little bit.
I nod yes.
“Then no, I didn’t see it.” Oren shoots me a wicked grin.
“I’m going to stab her with a dull knife,” I say, feeling the heat in my cheeks reach an all time high.
“I’ll pretend that I didn’t just hear your premeditated crime, Olivia.”
“Right, Officer.” I wink at him.
It’s practically Chinese torture when I give Oren my address. He pays the bill like any gentleman, never trying to flirt
again as he drives me home.
When we near my townhouse parking lot, I steady my legs for him to kick my ass out of his car, but he remains silent and very heroic.
“Thank you, Oren.” I turn to him with honesty and my complete soul exposed to him. I feel his fingers wrap around my hand and it’s a feeling I’m not use to. It’s completely foreign and I’m not sure how to react, but it’s warm and inviting, unlike the fishy experience earlier tonight.
“Olivia, I’d do and say so much more if I was off shift.” His eyes beam in the moonlight.
I offer up a weak smile and let as many words flow as possible before melting down. “It’s fine.”
The harsh metal of the door slams shut and I walk my way up to my apartment in the lonely night. It’s not until Pedro bounces up and down like a rabid rabbit that I finally exhale. It’s a Friday night for the record books of epic proportion. I fall to my bed and let Pedro lick me clean of Alfredo sauce.
I dial Scout’s number and the bitch doesn’t even wait for a hello!
“Bitch, spill, now!”
“Scout, thank you so much for setting me up with Connor because this has been the best night of my life.”
“Uh?” I hear my best friend’s voice.
“I just experienced the best night of my life covered in sauce.”
“Is this Olivia or a crack whore who beat her in the alley way for her phone? Either way, I’m cool. Oh wait, you’re on your home line.”
“It’s O. I’m home next to Pedro and am on the mission for my O. You’ll die when you hear the rest of the story.”
I rattle on and on, spilling every single detail of the night until I hear Scout’s light snores on the other end of the phone. Sleep never comes.
Dear Diary,
You wouldn’t believe the shit that went down tonight. Pasta in the face and bush whacking on the blind date and it turned out to be the best night of my freakin’ life. Officer Sex On A Stick saved the night and even took me to dinner at Gravy Doug's.
I love me some good gravy and then to top it off with a stiff fingersteak. TOUCHDOWN. More details to come soon, hopefully!
Love, O
6
Let The Texting Begin
“Dad.” The drilling noise and beating of metal continues. I scream a little louder this time. “DAD.”
My father finally rounds the corner, wiping his brow with the handkerchief in his back pocket. He doesn’t acknowledge me, but I know damn well he’s heard me.
“Where’s the parts order from this week?”
“Oh, I went to the local part store and I think the receipt is in the jockey box of my GMC.”
“You think?” I ask, pissed off.
“I’m a mechanic and play in the grease.”
“Well, keep your damn receipts you old fart. I’m a teacher, not a detective.”
I typically look forward to my Saturdays at Dad’s shop. I do his books for him, but this morning after a completely sleepless night, I feel like I’m losing my shit. Pedro’s light snores from his dog bed underneath the desk don’t help matters and only make me sleepier.
Dad’s known as the best mechanic in town and is; however, his organizational skills lack. His office is always a mess with piles and piles of papers; some of it trash and others important documents.
I begin digging through the piles of papers, scouring for important receipts to update his monthly expense books, when my phone dings, alerting me to a text message. I’m sure sleeping beauty just woke up sated from amazing sex and is now ready for more details from my dinner with Oren.
An evil giggle escapes me as I punch in numbers into the computer program, aligning the expense with the check number written and imagine Scout throwing a hissy fit. When she’s real determined, she’ll start blowing my phone up and then she’ll march her nosey ass right down here to the shop. I spilled all the details last night, but know she dozed off in the middle.
After a good hour of sorting and filing go by, I finally get to my new cellphone I picked up this morning on the way to dad’s shop. One new text message lights up the home screen.
Unknown: Have any blind dates tonight that you need rescued from?
Me: ???
Unknown: I’m on night shift again and am willing to save you.
Me: Oren?
Unknown: Yep
Me: How?
Unknown: Your quite annoying friend
Me: But how?
Unknown: You texted her last night from my phone and then I did a little investigation of my own.
Me: Prove that it’s you.
My heart races out of control, fingers tremble in excitement, and then I finally pinch myself to make sure this isn’t another damn horny dream of mine.
“Ouch,” I squeal after nearly ripping flesh from my arm and then my phone dings.
When I make eye contact with my phone laying on top of the desk, I moan. Yes, moan out loud in delight and mostly shock. Oren sent a picture alright and it just may be the sexiest picture I’ve ever seen.
It’s him in what looks like a bathroom in boxers, bare chest, wet hair, and a dab of shaving cream on his chin. I pick up the phone, zooming in and out on all of his features. I don’t miss the precious smirk dancing on his face in the picture. I take a moment to save his number and fight to muster up a coherent sentence to reply with.
Me: Well, hello Officer!
Oren: Your turn
Me: For?
Oren: A pic. I mean Scout could’ve given me the wrong number.
Me: No. Hell No.
Oren: Lol. Sorry, getting ready for work hence the bathroom pic
Me: Oh, don’t be sorry
Oren: It would be nice to have a pic of you for my contacts.
Me: Persistent
Oren: Throw a dog a bone.
Scout is the selfie-whore. I only get in one when she’s aiming the camera at the both of us. So, I fluff my messy bun, adjust my black nerd glasses on my face, slap my cheeks trying to put some color into them and try to take a few. FAIL.
I’m slapping the underside of my chin while testing all angles and even trying out duck lips when my dad walks in.
“Have you gone mad?”
Oh, that causes me to blush perfectly, throw my chin down, and snap a pic. And amazingly enough it turns out the best.
“It’s for school, Pops.”
“Interesting.” He smiles back at me without saying a word before grabbing his phone and walking back out of his office.
Me: Here you go. I don’t do selfies or send pictures, so consider yourself lucky!
In a not so patient manner, I tap the desk with my nails, staring at the phone screen, waiting on his reply. And then I see it or should I say, them. My boobies in all their glory overflowing from the top of my tank top give a whole new meaning to cleavage. Holy shit, is that the top of my areola? I was so damn worried about the angle of my face I didn’t even notice the girls and their high beam headlights fully on display.
My phone dings once again in the small office and my butthole puckers out of fear.
“No, no, no.”
“No, what?” I look up to Scout holding greasy take-out bags. “O, you’re white as a ghost.”
“I just sent a picture of my tits to Oren on accident.”
“That’s no assident.” She giggles. Scout never misses a chance to pronounce accident the wrong way.
I shove my phone up into her face and cover my eyes. “Here, look.”
She’s only silent for a few seconds before she bursts out in hysterics. “O, you gave him a serious gun show, but looks like he liked it.”
“Why?”
“He sent back heart emoticon smiling faces and then said gorgeous followed by the tongue with drool coming off of it.”
“Oh shit.” I slap my hands over my mouth.
“He likes you, O.” Scout begins taking out the food and making everyone’s plates. It’s her official Saturday job. She knows Dad’s favorites and spoils him.
I delicately pick back up my cellphone like there’s a ticking time bomb in it and look at his reply. It feels good talking to him and I’m not ready to stop.
Me: Thanks
Oren: Text me tonight if you get trapped on another date from hell. I’m seriously worried about the health of the bushes in the community.
Me: Very Funny!!! But I’m done dating
Oren: Forever?
Me: I think it’s best for society
Oren: Damn, I don’t get a day off until next Friday and thought…
Me: By all means finish your thought
Oren: I’d like to have dinner with you since you’ve quit dating
Me: Deal
Shit, that was a bit aggressive and needy.
Oren: Have to head into work, but if you ever need anything please call this number.
Me: Thanks
“What’s that shit-eating grin for?” Dad takes a seat in his favorite worn out black office chair, kicking back his heels, and digging into his food.
“Nothing,” I grit out between my teeth and send Scout a death glare that could kill.
“You never told me how your blind date went, firecracker,” Dad throws out between bites of his spicy chicken sandwich.
I’m not sure how to play this one out. If I tell my dad the real story of the pasta and how big of a doucher Connor was, he’d be out of the shop with his shotgun on the hunt. And if I tell him about my hopes with Oren he’ll become overly excited.
I shrug. “It was fine.”
Dad sputters on his chicken sandwich, flinging his legs down to the floor, and slamming on his chest. “I’m impressed.”
“Well, it’s complicated, Pops, so don’t be going and getting your panties wadded up.”
“I’m happy for you, Olivia, I really am.”
I skip my chicken strips and tots and fill up my appetite with the picture of Oren on my screen. I save it, add it to his contact info, and then in a very tacky and desperate move, set it as my home screen. I move the apps around on the screen, so his broad chest and handsome face fill the screen and then let out a sigh.
“What’s so interesting on your phone, firecracker?” My dad places his hand on my shoulder, trying to peek over at my screen.
“Nothing.” I hit the sleep button. “Just looking up math lessons for Monday.”
