Thursday Morning
Nadrea was up with the sun and in the office early despite being out the night before. She lingered only for a few flushed and heated seconds on yesterday. Instead the very name of the day had become her albatross. She started the day by telling herself that there was no way she would show up tonight, the stupid fag probably wasn’t even going to be there. The morning ground on, crawling at a snails pace. It was one of those days when there was more than enough work to do and she wasn’t the least bit interested in any of it. Reading a section of this and moving to another not necessarily related document. She couldn’t focus, and when it came right down to it, she just moved paper from one pile to another and back again. Every time she looked at her calendar, her watch, her phone, or the paper there it was staring at her the word Thursday, she had seen sixteen hundred and sixty four of them by her last birthday.
The Husker arrived at his office as always, but after a waterfront run, part of the boating cover perhaps or maybe he really did want to join a rowing team. Another step toward having a life. He entered and acted like nothing ever happened, Christy sitting there still pissed that he hadn’t called back. Fact of the matter was that he didn’t even turn his regular phone back on until after his run that morning. Essentially he had fallen off her grid of control and his self appointed keeper was not at all happy about it. He pretended not to notice, he didn’t need to pretend not to care about her mood, because he didn’t. In fact he didn’t care, not even one little bit, she had crossed the line. Perhaps he took his run by the river because someone else did that on occasion. It was a school boy move to get a few seconds of time as a passing coincidence, should the opportunity present itself.
Vincent sat at his desk, his cufflinks banged off the desk as he spruced up his touches on the first approach for the next acquisition, and the final words on the events of the day before. His top button was unbuttoned, a white shirt with crossing alternating shades of blue stripes. The place, as always, was a buzz about this deal and that deal, who was doing what to whom and with whose money. The smell of greed filled the air, preying on the dreams and sweat and life of others, capitalism at work. Vincent thought of Deb, it was too early to call, even if had been later he would have never dialed the phone, it simply isn’t like him to call a friend to chat. Unlike Nadrea’s day, Vincent’s was flying by, she had not crossed his mind for even a passing second since stepping into the street Sunday night.
Donna checked her email looking for a response from Paul, not a call, not a line, perhaps it was more false panic. As the day wore on by mid afternoon Nadrea had come to the conclusion that she might stop by, dressed to kill and show the moron what a good time he had missed. Yes, that was it, her job was to become the vile temptress, and leave the boy wanting more, never to be seen again. So, as the work day ends she headed home, to make the all important decision of what to wear.
She stood in front of her closet full of play and party clothes, no impression of a preppy Librarian. So what would catch the mans fancy? Fetish clothes might scare him off, so began the ritual of trying on this and that, strutting in front of her dressing mirror, a quick lift or lower, a twist of the hair here or there. A tight red dress with matching heels, no not quite right, and so the parade went on from one outfit to the next until she came to the school girl, short plaid skirt, white blouse that was just a bit too thin allowing the occasional glimpse of flesh through the material. Untucked and wrinkled, her long dark hair in loose pig tails dangling to the side. “Ahh,” she thought to herself, “we have a winner.” It was on her part a good call, after all what jock not to mention one whose youth is fleeting doesn’t want to do the prom queen? Time to finish the look, 3 inch black heels that screamed slut, providing height and the leg lengthening benefits while being mostly revealing straps, a white lace push up bra for a little extra cleavage for her barley buttoned blouse and painted on make up. Once she had decided to go with the school girl routine the back drop of modern hits was changed to the classic Alice Cooper tune “Schools Out.” One piece to go, panties for such small delicate things they always warranted as much serious thought as the rest of the outfit. So what would it be a g-string, white silk or thong. Instead it was a close shave and fresh air. What boy doesn’t dream of a panty-less, shaved school girl, a gay one, even the dorks, and hapless losers wanted what she was putting together.
Not far from the bar Vincent slipped into his fading Levi’s, his oldest, most creased pair of Madden lace ups and a brown T-shirt. After all it was Thursday and he had plans, not necessarily plans that he knew about, his plans were entirely different. He needed a second shave for the day, he didn’t shave sporting a five o’clock shadow that it would take most men a day and a half to get. His hairs started the day perfectly parted but his post workout shower let it fall where it wanted after quickly towel drying it. For all the thought that Nadrea put into her choices and for all her intentions his were the polar opposite, not caring what others thought of his look at that point in that day.
Typically she decided to arrive at things fashionably late, but she decided that only a few minutes after seven would send the message. Vince was sitting comfortably at the end of the bar drinking a coke by six forty five. He was talking to the well dressed patrons and Steve was still there but not working, he was just hanging around washing away his day with mineral water, mathematically brilliant, but not exactly a party animal.
At two minutes to seven Vincent began his farewells for the evening and started toward the door, a few minutes later Nadrea strolled though the door. She walked right up to him while his back was toward the door talking to one person or another, came up behind him and without waiting for a pause in the conversation ask if he was ready for dinner. “Another night out with daddy?” was Vincent’s response.
“No, this is all for you. I wanted to change the first image you had of me.” She said playfully.
“How by reminding me how hard it was to get laid in high school? Girls dressed like that left me with blue balls on more than a few occasions.” He said sharply, she couldn’t tell if he was playing or not, had she inadvertently hit a nerve. “So which one are you really? The sultry librarian or the cock tease school girl?”
She played with her pig tails and stood turning her feet outward in an awkward school girl kind of way “That’s for you to find out Vin.”
“Not really that interested, but I’m going to have some dinner. Care to join?”
She was fuming, not interested, she was sure he was playing, there wasn’t a man in the place who hadn’t noticed her. “So what is that on your shirt?” she asked no longer in her playful character as she had intended to stay in.
“It’s a diagram of the molecular structure of Caffeine.” He said not at all stunned by the question, in fact for the first time in their two short meetings she seemed almost genuine. “So lets grab a table.” She said back into her character and standing closer to him as not to be ignored. Now directly in front of him and adjusting her immodestly buttoned blouse for his benefit.
Vincent just looked her in the eye “Ok babe, well then we had better get going or there won’t be any tables left.” He said softly moving forward and leaning in as if he was going to kiss her neck before taking a smooth side step to the right and walking past her. He was frustrating, he was annoying and now she realized that despite her best of intentions and desire to do so it might not be her holding the cards, but he was without intending to, very much establishing control over her. He walked out of the bar and she followed, he walked like they should both know where they were headed and six blocks later they descended into the metro. Nadrea knew the metro well and couldn’t imagine where they were going. He on the other hand never thought to tell her, so as they headed into the station, he stepped to the side of the turn style and swiped his card motioning with his arm for her to go through. Pulled out a second card and swiped it again for himself to pass.
Here she was dressed somewhere between a hooker and a catholic high school girl, although most of the time there is very little difference between the two. She was following a man she barely had met and didn’t really know, like a puppy through the streets of the city and onto the metro with no discernable reason as to why.
“Where are we going? I thought we were having dinner?” She barked out in an annoyed tone.
Vincent just laughed “We are.”
Nadrea was not use to being the one who doesn’t know, she always knew everything or at least liked to feel like she did. “You said dinner was at 7:00.” He laughed harder, a deep loud genuine belly laugh, not the polite chuckles of new relationships and marginally entertaining stories. He didn’t remember he had told her about dinner Thursday, even if he had he would not have actually expected her to show up.
So from the restaurant they headed to the Gallery Place Station, that sits at the heart of both the red line and the green line and is the second stop on the yellow line that runs from McPherson square to Huntington on the other side of the Potomac unlike the red and green that kept to themselves on the DC side of the river. In the 10 minute walk to the station not much was said, Vincent walked and Nadrea followed. Even standing and waiting for the green line, the bastard was still laughing at her, still laughing that deep unexplained belly laugh. She was still not sure why he was laughing but the growing sense of paranoia kept creeping up her panty-less butt. He had to be laughing at her she decided. The train approached, the moron was still laughing although with less veracity. She suddenly felt vulnerable, and her bullet proof confidence somewhat was shaken. Turning to him, but before she could speak. “Fuck wit,” pausing to laugh harder again, this time right in her face, he had been laughing nonstop for three minutes the stupid bastard. “Fuck wit” he said again, “I’ve been called a lot of things, most of them not very nice.” The train had stopped and the doors opened, the late day working crowd and post happy hour people pushed anonymously past them as they got off the train. Vincent continued “So what is a fuck wit?” he asked between giggles. Vincent did laugh a lot, mostly at himself, so once again he was in his classic form and his twisted sense of reality amused himself with something that not only was the rest of the world not in on but neither was his companion for the evening. He wasn’t doing it to be cruel and he wasn’t laughing at her, he was simply amusing his idol mind, Nadrea was once again just a passing byline.
Vincent stepped onto the train as she stood there and looked, starting to move forward but not in a very definitive manner. Every little kid knows not to follow a stranger, something was holding her back, standing on the line by the door, he turned and smiled, a perfect movie star smile, bright white teeth, glimmering between his full lips that were surrounded by a handsome unshaven rugged face. The announcement for the doors began, she quickly stepped on. “Where are we going?” she asked again.
“Dinner” he said with a smile.
He was so frustrating she thought to herself. “No, where are we going to dinner?” “Ahh…a place you should like, it will be half filled with school girls.” Vincent said coyly.
“Pervert!” Nadrea said in an elevated voice “besides I fucking hate Chuck E. Cheese!” PERV!” He again laughed that deep belly laugh. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Vincent was a highly sexual person, he always had been, he never gave it any thought he just assumed his drives and desires were normal. In truth Nadrea didn’t differ much, both liked it hard and fast. Nadrea liked to dress up, to play although often the play portion of her life was her day time activities, she was most often herself at night, there she wasn’t acting she was being who she was. After all was said and done she did like it rough, very rough. Susie good girl would bore Vincent instantly, he liked it hard and fast and dirty, the more open she was the better, he was personally amazed that the missionary position could still used as a primary exclusive position except by virgins and sexually repressed zealots. After all what else were you suppose to use the floor and all the furniture for? Neither of them had mainstream tastes.
Nadrea stood there on the train, Vincent handed her a metro card, she was still a bit shaken and uncertain, he sensed it. “Look, I’m headed to “Thirst T’s” up by the University, You’re welcome to come” Vincent paused “ if not no big deal.” He offered her an easy way out, provided her with a way to get back to where they started no harm, no foul. Looking up through her overly dark and thick eyelashes suddenly comfortable and back in form she replied “I’d love to come.” She again sounded like herself, playful and sexual, Nadrea’s body language shifting back to confident and sure. Vincent laughed a light laugh “I bet you would! I hear a lot of school girls have the same problem.” He was laughing and this time she finally understood why, he still had a seventeen year old jocks locker room sense of humor. She took a seat next to him and at one point leaned into him as the train started, he was solid and his shoulders were like cannonballs. She began playfully preening taking out her pig tails setting the scrunches that held her hair in place between them on the seat, without thought she intuitively pulled it back into a pony tail, he picked a band up off of the seat gently brushing her skirt that was laying draped on the space between them and handed the band to her. Looking at him with those dark telling pools of sexuality that were her eyes, “Sorry, but pig tails go with this out fit.” she said in her best Hollywood sex kitten tone.
“Suit yourself, but if you’re going for authentic then next time you should wear scuffed shoes and carry a book bag.” Could he really be that dumb she thought, dangling a show off her toes in true school girl fashion. This time he pretended not to notice, he did of course, he simply wasn’t obvious about it. As the metro reached their stop he stood and headed toward the door.
The train stopped and he stepped off “You coming?” he said laughing. “
No not yet, not even you are that good, you might have to do more than take me on a train ride to get me off” Nadrea shot back. “You might actually need to touch me”.
He held out his hand to help her off the train, she ignored it and just stepped past his gentlemanly gesture. On the walk out of the station they found the fleeting light of day. On the three block walk to the bar she explained that “fuck wit” was a British term, meant to be a more insulting version of the American use of the word idiot. Again he laughed. Nadrea was figuring out that he laughed a lot, most of it genuine. “That pretty much sums me up.” Vincent admitted. He explained that he had been going to Thirst T’s pretty much every 2nd and 4th Thursday of the month whenever he was in town for years, a creature of habit. When they walked into the bar it was full of 20 something students, many edging to their mid-twenties most likely grad students, girls in Hollister and baby doll shirts, tight low rider jeans and bare mid-drift. Some of the patrons looked at the pair like they were intruders to the inner sanctum of something mysterious and special. Nadrea could feel the stare, feeling out of place, again the women despised her at first sight, but the men lusted for her openly, except for the one that had brought her here. Vincent didn’t notice, but then again his jeans and T- shirt blended in. Weaving and pushing their way past the standing room only bar crowd, many stepped out of his way. He was tall and muscular and at this moment in time his eyes were focused exclusively on a man standing in the back of the dining room. The man was standing there with a group, his back to the dining room and the bar. The gent in question was holding court as the other focused on whatever tale he was weaving. Vincent’s body language changed he tensed, his nostrils in a controlled flare and his neck flushed red veins pulsating in his neck and forearms, like a predator ready to attack on the hunt. His pace quickened and his glare intensified, on the man in the back of the room in the Diesel jeans and Thomas Pink shirt. Nadrea wondered how she had gotten herself into this situation, that she again could not explain and more importantly didn’t understand. He moved to the right in the back of the dining room, to the back side of his target and with out explanation charged like a tiger on the hunt, muscles flexed, tense and powerful. A second before impact one of the group called out “VINCE!” and they started to scramble right as Vincent hit his target blind sided with a controlled amount of force, but still violently enough to carry both Vince and his target into an open booth bouncing off of it and crashing into another open table and a heap on the floor. As the rest of the group did their best to get out of the way. Vincent and his prey were wrestling and mock fighting on the floor after a few real body blows were exchanged the circle called for Jimmy, Vincent’s target or Vincent to “Get him!”. “Now punch him in the head,” and other assorted encouragements all seemingly cheering for one of the brawlers one second and then the other the next, relentlessly cheering them on. Two large bouncers came bounding out of the bar area into the mostly open dining room stepping quickly toward the table, to step in but realizing who them men on the floor were and stopped dead. This was most curious to Nadrea she had never seen bouncers pause like that before. The bigger of the two called out, “Stop it before you fucking break something!” Nadrea still watching mystified as to what was going on. Jimmy and Vincent laying intertwined on the floor laughing between gasping for breath, they untangled themselves and stood up still panting. Hugged each other and Vincent waved Nadrea over. Greetings were exchanged and introductions were made. Jimmy and Vincent went back forever. “Why did he attack him?” Nadrea asked thinking it was just boys being boys, but nothing with Vincent would ever be that simple. The other ladies explained that the two were both Pink Panther fans. Vincent played the part of the loyal sidekick Kato, who was instructed by the bumbling Inspector Clouseau to attack him at any moment as a part of his training to stay alert.
Drink orders were taken and it dawned on Nadrea that strangely enough she was not only completely sober while out, but hadn’t had a drink all day, not even a single drink during the night’s preparation ritual. Food arrived at the table at the table filled with appetizers, wings, munchies and salads. Nadrea doesn’t remember anyone actually ordering anything other than drinks. Nadrea was adopted by Beth who explained the groups past and ties enough for her to make sense of the night. There was a group of eight not counting Vincent and Nadrea, Jimmy owned the place and another Irish pub just down the street. Two of the girls were pharmaceutical reps who were sliding Prylosec to Seth, the worry wart of the group. Seth hadn’t yet found his calling, as he took his disorganization and apathy from job to job. His true calling was renting umbrellas on the beach in Ocean City. Unfortunately that doesn’t quite pay the bills much after graduating. Beth was a grad student back in school after a few years working while her husband Scott had finished law school. He practiced labor law, Nadrea kept her profession to herself, she had no interest in talking shop. “Isn’t he amazing?” Beth asked. Nadrea not really knowing Vincent yet, admitted that they had just met, it was their first time out and the second time they had seen each other. “Really? He doesn’t bring many people around us.” Beth conceded before continuing on to extol the greatest virtues of Vincent the Great. Nadrea listened in befuddled amusement as another man’s wife spoke of Vincent as if he were a noble man of great power and influence. Vincent, while she painted a pretty picture, if forced to picture himself as a deity would have pictured himself as a pagan deity. Mean while Vincent, and his forked tongue and sharp cold wit, floated between the members of their little group and people at other tables and the bar. One could never really be sure who he knew and who he didn’t. He was after all, practicing his old habit of amusing himself, the rest of the world’s reality be damned. Before anyone realized it, it was eleven and the group started to dissipate. Liz one of the drug girls was sitting at the table with Beth and Susan. Jimmy, Vincent, and Scott were still there completely involved in one of their passions, anything relating to golf, in this case they were in a tournament play game of Golden Tee Live.
“So how did you meet him?” Susan asked.
“I wondered into the wrong bar.” Nadrea shot back, a response that while true made all three ladies laugh. No one was surprised they hat met in a bar, Nadrea was drinking like a fish since right before the food arrived but still seemed strangely sober.
“Let me guess, sitting at the end drinking a coke?” Susan replied.
Nadrea looked up, “So you really know him.” she said as a statement. “
In more ways than you can imagine!” Ahh, Vincent the Noble has a jealous little flat chested bitch protecting her turf, Nadrea thought. Nadrea liked the thought of aggravating the little whore asked, “Is he worth it?” She just couldn’t resist asking. Beth tried to step in and change the direction of the conversation, but the claws had already come out. Susan didn’t like someone showing up with Vincent dressed like a little school girl, slutty play clothes for people who can’t get men off without the fantasy. “And then some.” Susan stated in her sultriest voice, but with Nadrea she was way out of her league. Laughing out loud, which Susan found as upsetting as Nadrea had when Vince had done it earlier just thought to herself…”What do you know, he likes them with small tits and wide hips.” Beth quickly interceded and Nadrea thought she seemed nice enough for a future suburban baby factory, a slight chill came over her as she had the thought. As the boys finally found their way away from the game it was time for them to leave. Vincent hugged Beth, but in a very sisterly way. Then he hugged Jimmy and while doing so shook him vigorously. Patting Scott on the back as Susan approached him, turning her back towards him as slowly moving in closer, she moved her long cheaply dyed hair to the side pressing her body into Vincent’s began to nuzzle in. He placed his hands on to her hips to feel her motions but not suggesting guidance with them, she smiled coyly closing her eyes and tilting her head. He paused for a second, whispered something into her ear and as she ground herself into him smiling. Vincent knew the routine, usually he played along, but he was keenly aware the entire group was watching, not that it bothered him. Drawing Susan even closer to him, he made eye contact with Jimmy and then Nadrea making sure they were focused on him. Nadrea not sure what she was watching, wanted to hit the bitch and hurt her, but for once, not in a sexual way at all. Once eye contact had been established, he stuck his tongue out as far as it would go, flicking it like an aging rock star in an old heavy metal video. He slid his hands around to her stomach and she dug in with lap dancer intensity he flicked a sopping wet tongue one last time and liked her from the base of her neck to her temple with a move more akin to a Charles Shultz TV special or a black lab than a sexually aroused man. Grabbing and twisting her breasts like a fat kid getting picked on in the locker room by the jocks before gym class. “ASSHOLE” she yelled. Pulling away from Vincent, he wasn’t laughing although everyone watching was. “Don’t play to be mean SLUT!” he yelled back, slut was the one word that would cut her to the bone, and he knew it.
“FUCK YOU VINCE!” she yelled back, Nadrea laughing intensely at Susan’s rage. “Yeah! FUCK me? That’s the root problem, you don’t get to FUCK me anymore SLUT!” What had started as seemingly playful became heated quickly, she was more angry that Vincent had caught on. Instead of her marking her territory and making his whore for the night jealous, Susan was now the court jester.
“Come on Nod, time to go.” Again Nadrea found herself following him, maybe for the first time she was starting to understand why. “See you guys later, it’s been fun!” Vincent said like nothing had happened then stopping one last time “ SEE you in HELL SLUT!” he yelled at Susan, his words cold and cruel, they were the same words he used so often being playful, there was no mistake he was being harsh. She knew there was not even a friendship to be salvaged, there was no relationship left and Vincent would never look back. He was simply done, she was now a memory not to be called upon. For Vincent it was over and his mood and demeanor was like nothing happened. Walking through the door into the street Nadrea came up even with him still reveling in his assisted victory.
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Next Chapter The Train Ride Home
copyright 2008 Michael Malflic
