Chapter 27: Please Don’t Squeeze the Charmin
So Trace called me this morning and asked me if I wanted to go out to dinner and a movie with Justin and another friend of theirs tonight. Talk about short notice. And could he be anymore vague? Being the agreeable, non-confrontational person I naturally am, I agreed to go. After, of course, getting permission from my Mom, which was entirely too easy. She was practically pushing me out the door and she told me I could stay out as long as I wanted as long as I called every now and then to let her know what was going on.
I’m starting to think that my mother is the reason I can’t stand Steve. It’s not Steve’s personality. As hard as it may be for me to admit, I really do like Steve. It’s the way my mother acts when Steve is around or just involved that I hate so much. She becomes so nonchalant about everything. I mean my mom would never have let me go out with a couple of guys on a Friday night before Steve came around. And as much as I complained about her over-protectiveness, I really miss it now. It feels like she doesn’t care anymore. We used to sit home on the weekends and watch movies together or play a card game, but now she tries her best to ship me out so she can screw Steve.
Anyway, let’s get back to the present shall we?
I’m sitting here at this fancy Italian restaurant that has a name I won’t even try to pronounce. Justin is sitting to my right and Trace to my left and their mutual friend Elisha is across from me sending me death glares. I don’t know what this girl’s problem is with me, but she’s really starting to creep me out.
Neither Justin nor Trace seems to notice. They’re laughing it up, telling old stories and sharing inside jokes I really don’t get. I guess it’s harder for them to notice Elisha’s cold shoulder, one because their men and two because Elisha is keeping up with their conversation and just glaring at me in between her laughter.
I don’t think I’ve spoken more than two words since I arrived. I was introduced to Elisha where I just smiled politely and shook her hand”this is when the evil glares started. I said ‘hi’ to Justin and….uh….I ordered a diet coke. I think that about sums it up. Needless to say I’m not having the best time. I’m looking over this stupid menu just so that I don’t have to look at Elisha; I can still feel her eyes on me though. I can’t read a thing on here”it’s all in Italian….I think. And the prices must be outrageous since they don’t have them listed. Maybe
I’ll just drink my diet coke and munch on the complimentary breadsticks and salad.
“Elli!” Justin’s booming voice breaks me from my trace. My eyes shift to his from behind my menu. From the amused look on his face he must have been calling my name for a while. “You alright sweetie?”
Ugh, I hate it when he calls me that. It makes my stomach do flip flops. And I know I’m now blushing like mad. How is it that he can always somehow manage to make blush like a fool? Someone should pay him back for what he does to me and make his whole face turn red with embarrassment. I would love to see that.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, turning my eyes back to my menu. Add that to the other three words I’ve said tonight and that brings me to a grand total of five words. Yeah me!
“You’ve been staring at that menu for like fifteen minutes.” Trace snickers from my other side and I suddenly have the urge to smack him over the head with my menu. As much as I love Trace and how sensitive and understanding he’s been lately he still really knows how to wear on my nerves.
I simply ignore his comment and refocus on the menu in front of me. Maybe I should just close my eyes and point to a random dish and I’ll just eat that. You know like when you take a road trip and you just pick random places on a map. This could be a new kind of extreme eating reality television show. I’ll be the first contestant. I close my eyes and secretly glide my index finger over the dense paper. Just when I’m about to make my selection a hand stops mine. I jump in surprise, not expecting the contact and jamb my knee upwards into the table which causes everything on the table to quake. I watch in horror as my drink sloshes from side to side spilling some of its sticky-brown contents on the clean white linen. It’s as if all this is happening in slow motion and all I can do it sit there and watch. The slow motion fades away as the glass tips completely and the cold content collects in my lap.
I fling the menu I was holding out of my hands sending it sailing to my right where it, of course, knocks Justin’s beer over and spills onto his lap. I am however too busy jumping from my chair to notice his distress. My chair topples over and I nearly go with it but somehow manage to balance myself. It must be the strong grip I have on Justin’s right arm that is holding me up.
By now everyone in the restaurant is looking at us and the huge scene I just made. My face feels like it’s on fire as I blush from absolute embarrassment. I think this just may be my new most embarrassing moment story to tell at sleepovers. Of course this may just be too embarrassing to tell anyone. My hands cover my horrified face as I run towards the bathroom to get away from the invading eyes and snickers of the people around me.
Why do I have to be such a klutz all the time?
~*~*~*~*~
“Shit.” I hiss as we watch Elli’s retreating figure. My eyes focus on my now soaked pants. I looked like I pissed all over myself. “Shit.”
“I better go after her.” Trace announces as he stands from the table. I put a hand on his shoulder and affirm that I’ll get her. I’ve got to clean myself up anyway.
As I head towards the bathroom I’m sure she’s hiding in, I hear people start to go back to their meals and waiters rushing to clean our table. Trace and Elisha are talking which is good, although the conversation had been strained. Maybe Elli’s little incident will help to loosen the mood for them. I can’t think about this right now; I have more important thing to focus on.
Holding one hand over my eyes and taking a deep breath I push open the door to the women’s bathroom. I can hear her quiet sobs and sniffles and my heart breaks. The poor thing must be a wreck. I hate it when girls cry. I call out to her softly but get no response. Wearily I pull my hand from my eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. The entire room is pink and there are flowers and couches everywhere. How come we don’t get couches in the men’s room? It even smells good in here. I follow the pink tiled floor towards the only occupied stall. I can see her feet and nothing else but I can imagine her sitting on the toilet seat with her head in her hands as she cries.
I rap my knuckles against the light pink stall. I hear her breath hitch as she gasps for air. “Elli, will you open the door please?”
“Oh no,” She wails, crying even harder now, “I ran into the men’s room didn’t I? I couldn’t read the signs”they’re not written in English.”
I can’t stop the light smile from spreading on my face. Wouldn’t that have just competed the evening, her running into the wrong bathroom? She would have been mortified.
“No, sweetheart,” I reply in what I hope is a soothing voice; “I’m in the wrong bathroom not you.” She only sniffs and hiccups in reply and makes no move to open the door. I lean my forehead against the door, enjoying the coldness, “Will you open the door for me honey?”
Her bare feet shuffle on the tiles so I pull back not wanting to get hit in the head with the door or to fall in on her. The door creeks open and she appears. The front of her lavender dress is soaked with soda and I’m sure some of my beer. Her face is red and her eyes are puffy from crying. I move to the side and allow her to pass. She clutches her matching lavender pumps in her hands as she moves to sit on one of the sofas. She’s till whimpering and sniffling as I sit next to her. I see her eyes wander from the shoes in her lap to my lap and she lets out another wail seeing the messy state I’m in. She begins to stand to retreat back into hiding but I stop her, pulling her back down and over to me. She struggles to get free for a few moments but eventually gives in and allows me to comfort her. I rub her back soothingly as she cries into my neck and clings to my shoulders.
After a few minutes her sobs quiet to sniffles and her body relaxes against mine. I push her away from me gently so am able to wipe her tears with the pads of my thumbs. She looks exhausted. I would be too if I cried like she did which I think I might have if I had done that. Of course I’m much more confident than she is so I probably would have been able to simply laugh it off.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, still holding her face in my hands.
She shrugs her shoulders and her pout deepens. “I feel like an idiot.” She moans, her voice rough and scratching from crying. Being the man I am I can’t help but think that this is what her voice would sound like after sex or maybe during…
“Awe, sweetie, you are not an idiot.” I reply, getting my mind back on track. “It was a simple mistake. It could have happened to anyone.” I don’t know if I really agree with that statement but I should make her feel better. Elli has to be the single most klutzy person I’ve ever come in contact with and this chain of events could only happen to her. “Let go back out there and get something to eat and forget this even happened. No one is going to say a word about it. I don’t think most of the people in there even saw anything.”
Everyone saw what happened.
“I can’t go back out there.” She cries, tears beginning to surface again. She tries to tuck her head away from me but I continue to cup her cheeks and force her to look at me. “I’m too embarrassed. I want to just die.”
“Elli, it’s not that big of a deal,” I brush it off, “So you spilled a few drinks, big f**king deal. It’s not like anyone was hurt.”
“You look like you peed in your pants,” She hyperventilates. The poor girl has yet to catch her breath. I turn my gaze from hers to my soaking wet pants which now suddenly feel really cold. I do look like I peed in my pants.
“Well at least we both look like we soiled ourselves.” I offer with a toothy grin trying to get her to smile. Her face contorts in one of pain and tears begin to fall yet again. Was that the wrong thing to say? “Don’t start crying again El, we’re both fine. We’re just a little wet. It’s not a big deal.”
“I just want to go home.” She gasps, burrowing her face in my hands. I pull her to me again, rocking in a soothing manor. I can’t believe she’s so upset about this.
“I’ll take you home then,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head. She shakes her head in protest mumbling something about Steve. Now I know Steve is her mom’s boyfriend and that’s about it. I’ll have to make sure to find out more later. “We’ll go back to my place and you can change and then we’ll watch a movie and pig out on candy and ice cream. How about that?”
I feel her smile into my neck and my heart soars knowing I’m the cause of it. She pulls back still wearing the remnants of that smile. “What about Trace and Elisha?” She asks curling her lip at Elisha’s name. Apparently she doesn’t like her very much.
“They can come with us, why?” She shrugs and I poke her side, silently demanding an explanation.
“I don’t think Elisha likes me very much.” She mumbles miserably.
Sensing she doesn’t want to get into this or elaborate any farther I simply nod my head and let her know we can just go hang out the two of us. She seems to be more comforted by that thought, but it’s hard to tell with her sometimes.
“You okay now?” I ask before we get up. I rub my hands up and down her bare arms, getting goose bumps when I see them form on her own arms. She nods and I have an overwhelming urge to kiss her. I know I shouldn’t, if I do things will get awkward again just after we got things back to normal. I settle for a kiss on her cheek and then the other to even things out and her forehead for good measure. It isn’t until I notice her eyes on my mouth that I find myself physically unable to pull myself away. She wants it too. My right hand skims up her arm and over her collarbone and neck until it curves around the base of her head, just below her ear. Her eyes close in anticipation as I move in closer. My lips brush hers so softly I can’t be sure they even touched. I lick my lips nervously and lean back towards her to deepen the contact.
We both jump back at the sound of the toilet flushing and one of the stall doors flinging open. A young girl, no more than ten, rounds the corner offering a weak apology for the disruption before asking me to autograph a scrap of toilet paper.
Could her timing be any worse?
TBC.......
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