The Pike_Evermore

by Erik Schubach

  “You go blabbin' about it, and I'll have to kick your fuckin' ass into next week.” It would have scared the bejesus out of me if she wasn't smirking when she said it.

  Then she narrowed her eyes and cocked her head as she regarded me. “You remembered that stuff about me? From so many years ago?”

  I started, “Well I had the biggest crush on....” Kuso! Why does my mouth start talking before my brain engages? I exhaled audibly, and my cheeks were on fire as my blush threatened to consume my entire being.

  She had the biggest shit eating grin on her face, with a little shock thrown into her expression. “Oh reeeealy? Why didn't you ever say, or at least come over to say hi? That would have been a start. Everyone sort of stayed away from me.”

  The cat was out of the bag, and I defended weakly, “Hey, we were kids, and I got over it. You were the ice queen brainiac that never spoke with anyone, and I was... well I was just me. I was too scared to approach you. When I finally gathered the courage, you had transferred out when you and your mother moved across town.”

  She squished her lips to one side, and repeated, “Got over it...”

  She looked almost hurt by that, so I quickly blurted, “You had the most awesome hair. I wished I had the discipline to have grown mine out so long. It was like a golden cape that flowed down your back.” I stopped my hand half way to her damp hair as I looked at the long coils of ebony wrapped around her neck. The mohawk part was drying and starting to stand up a bit.

  She tensed as she looked between my hand and her hair, then she sat up a little straighter and explained as she uncoiled it from around her neck and sort of offered it to me with it draped across her hands. “Everything had to be perfect for me to live up to mom's expectations. I liked long hair, mom wanted it short, so it didn't distract me. She allowed me to keep my hair long as long as I took care of it, and it didn't take time from my studies.”

  She looked at a point in space just over my head as I took her hair in my hands and just looked at the amazing length and shine of it. “If it looked anything but high society like she pretended to be, then she'd have it cut.”

  Then Nala gave me a wicked smile. “It was the one thing I had control of about my looks that wasn't dictated to me. I think that's why I keep the tail, as a reminder that I can be in control of some parts of my life.”

  She was getting a bit uncomfortable, I could tell by her shifting around in the seat. I grudgingly dropped her hair, wondering just how silky it would feel when it dried. Then steered the conversation to something less stressful for her. My heart hurt for her when she described how her mother was with her. It sounded as if she were living for her mom, not herself.

  So I shifted the topic slightly. I grinned and asked, “So why the grape juice instead of lunch? It was such a mystery, and it drove me crazy trying to figure it out?”

  Then this woman, who tried so very hard to be the epitome of intimidation and personality, got the cutest smile on her face and rocked over to bump me playfully. She said, “I didn't have time with my studies, to go out and make any money babysitting, mowing lawns, or the other things kids did for spending money.”

  The wicked smile was back on her face as she confided, “So I saved up my lunch money every day, just opting for drinking some grape juice instead.”

  Then she pointed at me and swung her finger toward the wall of windows as she challenged, “Grape juice is awesome. If you don't agree, then you can leave now... through the window.” She gave a playfully maniacal grin which had me smiling and scrunching my head to my shoulders in return.

  Then her smile became decidedly lopsided and sheepish as she finished, “The only hole in my brilliant plan was that I never went anywhere or did anything, so I didn't have much to spend the money on. Over five years, I had saved over a thousand dollars. It came in handy later in my life, so there is that.”

  I was tempted to make a brainiac joke, but she spoke first, raising an eyebrow and almost accusing with a smile in her voice, “So, ice queen? Is that really what the other kids thought of me?”

  I was saved by the intercom buzzing. She squinted her eyes at me, and I just grinned and giggled. She stood and stabbed a finger at me in the air, then left to the elevator with a smile gracing her face. Nala was a pretty fun lady, even with all the damage that laid beneath that I had a feeling was just scratching the surface.

  She hit a button. “Yes?”

  The response was simply, “Alessandro's.”

  She looked back at me and wiggled her eyebrows as she hit a button outside the freight elevator and it started creaking and groaning as it headed down without her. A minute later it returned. I blinked at her when she opened the gates and picked up a large bag on the floor of the otherwise empty elevator.

  She shrugged at me when she saw my interest. “They deliver a lot to me. I mean...” She held the bag up to me and motioned with her head for me to follow, “...spaghetti. Hello.”

  I giggled as she led me to a tall table by the kitchen area of the big open space, this open floor plan was sort of awesome, like most things about her I realized.

  The tall woman turned at my giggle, and she prompted, “Don't make me have to kick your ass. Don't personal assistants have a code or something about not laughing at the people they are assistant-izing to?”

  I strained to withhold another giggle.

  That whole night had been so surreal to me up to that point, and it continued to be so as I actually had dinner... spaghetti and meatballs of all things, with possibly the sexiest and scariest woman in Seattle.

  We wound up speaking late into the night after dinner about our lives in junior high and high school. She sounded sheepish when I revealed that we did have one class together in high school, though I didn't let her know I had taken that Japanese class because of her. It's so odd how that one decision has shaped my adult life.

  She reflected, “God, I don't remember. But in junior high, you were far too adorable. Then you... and now...” Where words failed her, she used her expressive face and cocked an eyebrow salaciously. I blushed and shoved her shoulder at that, which made her laugh and me smile.

  Yes, I was even tinier back then, I hit my final growth spurt in my sophomore year when that bitch called puberty smacked me around. I didn't gain more than a couple inches in height, but she did gift me with a few curves and this chest of mine. I blushed with the knowledge she may have not noticed me back then, but she certainly did now.

  I can't blame her, I had changed my looks drastically in high school, much as Nala has done with her Na Na persona. And I stayed out of the spotlight as I struggled with my sexuality. Looking back, it should have been obvious to me. I did have a crush on Nala after all, but we don't always see the obvious right in front of us when we are kids. I just saw it a girl crush, other girls get those right?

  She shared with me that she had a building she was going to start remodeling, so she might actually be cutting back just a little on her blogging and podcasts. My jaw had dropped when she shared it was an old playhouse, and that was cool to the nth degree to me. I mean who else can say, “Oh by the way, I own a theater.”?

  I thought it showed a maturity and business savvy which people wouldn't expect from the brash punk rocker she projected to the world. Creating a venue for the scene rather than simply living vicariously through it showed a forward thinking which most people our age didn't really have.

  She was planning for the future, and I could see this venture being wildly successful. Especially using the celebrity of Na Na Evermore to jumpstart it. It was just about guaranteed to be a success. My respect for her doubled at this revelation.

  I was actually sad when I yawned for the fifth time around two in the morning. I hadn't had such a good time speaking with someone like this in my entire life. And my heart warmed a bit at the look of regret on her face when she realized the inevitable.

  She said, “Looks like your anime ass is about to turn into a pumpkin. You should get home before
you're too tired to move.”

  I quipped back, feeling like we were already getting to be good friends, “Whatever, Elvira.”

  We shared a smile, and she walked me out, stopping at the elevator for me to put my shoes back on.

  When we reached the lobby doors downstairs, she looked almost shy as she said as she held a door open for me, “Take care of yourself, runt. See you next week?”

  I was nodding at her, feeling awkward for some unfathomable reason, it was like I was in junior high all over again. Then I perked up when she said, “Unless you want to... you know, hang out or some shit tomorrow? I have to shoot a podcast tomorrow night at a rave. Or whatever.”

  I just nodded and then scurried past her into the salty night air of Seattle before my courage failed me. I paused and looked back, “Arigatou gozaimasu, Nala-chan. I had a really great time tonight.” I inclined my head slightly.

  She smiled as she rested a cheek on the edge of the door she was holding open a bit as she watched me, “No, thank you, Karmin. It is the unexpected things in life that build the best memories.”

  I walked backward toward my car, watching her watch me. It wasn't until I slid into my car that she shut and locked the lobby door. And she watched my car leave as a flash went off. I snorted when I watched her flip off the paparazzi on the corner through the glass door before turning back down the corridor.

  Chapter 6 – Sunshiny Day

  The next morning I couldn't keep the smile off my face when I stepped into the station to see if there was anyone I could help out and keep myself from going stark raving mad out of boredom. I really needed to speak to Miss Graves about giving me more clients to assist.

  Nala wasn't one to need constant handholding, heck, I doubted she needed a PA at all, she was that well put together regardless of her troubled past and family life.

  I paused at my reflection in the door as I entered, I chose to dress like Isla from Plastic Memories that day. With a white blouse and skirt with a little red tie. It put a little skip in my step, and I decided to take the stairs as I waved at Marty, the morning lobby security guard. The big silly man waved enthusiastically back. He was sweet for such a big bear.

  I slid into my cubicle on the third floor and glanced at all the paperwork other PAs had dropped on my desk already. I guess I wouldn't need to ask for more busy work. I sighed and started looking at the notes attached to the paperwork for me.

  I paused and glanced around. Nobody would meet my gaze. That's right people, I know you're offloading the most tedious things in your workloads. I sighed and pushed the files away, I'd get to them after I checked my email.

  I almost jumped out of my seat when a copy of the Seattle Tattler landed hard in front of me on my desk. I blinked at the cover picture on the gossip rag. It was a picture of me slipping out of Nala's building with her cutely holding the edge of the lobby door. My blood ran cold at the big bold headline, 'Na Na Evermore, shacking up with a teen?'.

  The photo was dark, and you couldn't make out my face, but I was so small compared to Nala, and I was wearing an anime school uniform.

  I cringed as Porter said in a disturbingly calm tone while her eyes were tearing me to shreds. “I don't know what kind of place they are running at our Japanese subsidiary.” She stabbed the article with a well-manicured finger. “I don't know what they have PAs doing there, but here, we don't run that kind of service. When we say to cater to the client's every whim, it doesn't mean this.”

  She thought... wha... no. I blurted, “Nothing happened! I was...”

  She shook her head and interrupted. “I don't care what your excuse is Cass.” She was pointing back. “HR is waiting to speak with you, and we'll be assigning a new PA to Miss Dupree.”

  I almost whined as my pulse thrummed in my ears, almost deafening me, “You're going to believe a gossip rag? I...”

  She paused and then softened a little and said, “The problem is, it doesn't matter what I do or don't believe. All corporate see is a blemish on their reputation, whether true or not. And now we have to go into damage control mode. It is you in that picture, so the buck stops there.”

  I will not cry, I will not cry. I looked away from her, tears brimming in my eyes and I wiped them quickly on my sleeve before hardening my look, and I marched past her as I muttered, “Got it. Sacrificial lamb. Take one for the team. Doesn't matter that I'm good at my job.”

  She was saying as I passed her, “Cass... Karmin.” She looked conflicted. All I could think was that she seemed to believe it at first, and that hurt. I sort of looked up to Porter here, since I wanted to be a producer one day. I don't think she believed it now, but she should know my character by now.

  My little chibi in my head was shaking her fist at me. I know, I know, if something really had happened, I doubt I would have stopped myself. I mean... it's Nala.

  I trudged to the elevator, feeling like a teenager again being sent off to the principals office. My super sunshiny day had just clouded over.

  ***

  Kuso! I lugged another white canvas bag marked U.S. Mail out of the cart. Just how much mail did a news studio receive each day? This was my third bag to sort, and there were still two more. The guys in the mail room seemed quite pleased there was fresh meat to do the menial tasks.

  I had been relegated to the mail room when I had been given a choice between it and suspension until corporate decided what to do with me. It came down to me being one of the most efficient PAs in the studio that saved me from being summarily fired, even though I didn't do anything wrong.

  They even agreed it was most likely a misunderstanding, but the damage by the Tattler had already been done, and I shouldn't have been at the talent's residence at two A.M. They kept calling Nala 'the talent' instead of using her name. I felt dirty and degraded by the time I left to my new task. I was a good personal assistant, I loved my job, that was the only reason I didn't just tell them where they could stick it.

  So here I was, sorting the mail into bundles for each office, stamping and logging some of it under the supervision of Kon and Armin. Well sure, their names are really Greg and Jared. But Greg is kind of pervy, always sneaking looks at me like Kon from Bleach, and Jared reminds me of Armin from Attack on Titan because he seems sort of scared of his own shadow.

  They are actually sort of cute and harmless, reminding me of the geeks I grew up knowing. And I have to say, they certainly know their jobs. They are like the Deus Ex Machina of the mail room. They have instant answers to any question I have and are really helpful in instructing me of the proper procedures.

  Though I did catch their victorious grins when they decided it was best for me to start out on the sorting table. I grinned over at them where they were loading the delivery carts and whispering to each other as they stole glances toward me.

  I shook a finger their way. “You're not as clever as you think you are, boys. I know your game here.”

  They looked like two kids with their hands caught in the cookie jar. A blush on Greg's round face and the dimpling of Jared's ebony cheeks said volumes. They were the same awkward sort of kids that me and my group had been, and I had to grin at them.

  As I sorted and they double-checked everything I was doing, Jared asked, “So why is a daylighter down here with us grunts? You must have really pissed off the wrong person.”

  I blinked and repeated, “Daylighter?”

  Greg nudged his chin up. “You know, the ones not down in the hole here in the sub-basement, the ones who walk in daylight by their windows. The important people.”

  I stopped at that and forcefully shoved the stack of unsorted mail in my hands back into the bin and snapped out, “Hidoi! Don't ever say that! Your job is just as important as anyone else. Without the proper support, even the strongest structure will fail. A business is dependent on a team working together.”

  I pinned them with my eyes. “Each person contributes to the success of the company. Without you, nobody gets their mail, can you imagine how chaotic
that would be to the station? It doesn't matter if you are the CEO, the custodian, a reporter, or you work in the mailroom, your job is just as important as anyone else's.”

  They both seemed to straighten a little, and I could see a bit of pride in their eyes, so I teased, “Now get back to work. Be-da!” I stuck out my tongue and pulled down my left eyelid.

  Jared chuckled and said as he started working again, “You're weird.” Then he added quickly. “In a good way.”

  Greg nodded and added, “And hot.” Followed immediately by, “Ow!” as Jared slapped the back of his head, sending his red hair flopping forward.

  I pointed at his cart, trying not to grin at the poor boy. “Get back to work, the daylighters won't get their mail by magic.”

  I giggled at Greg mumbling, “Why do I get the feeling she's in charge now?”

  By noon we had all the mail sorted and loaded onto the carts. They showed me the organization system. The lower levels of the building were on top to the upper levels on the bottom. The second cart was for the executives. They usually traded carts each day, so they didn't get too bored.

  I'd be working with Greg after lunch delivering to the general workers since it was Jared's turn to do the executives. He seemed pretty excited about that, and I squinted one eye and asked with a tone of suspicion, “So why do you really switch deliveries? It isn't so you don't get bored. You seem a little too eager Armin.”

  Greg looked at me in confusion. “Who's Armin?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Jared is. Do try to keep up, Kon.”

  I think Jared got the references because he covered his mouth to hide his smile when I called Greg Kon. Then he said, as they both blushed, “I get to deliver to Mr. Kernan's secretary, Miss Gomez. She's so sophisticated, and always nice to us.”

  Greg nodded. “And hot.”

  I slapped the back of his head, and he just grinned like he had been rewarded.

  I rolled my eyes and teased, “If she's that pretty then maybe I should make the delivery. I'd have a better chance than you two.”