Disclaimer: Transcription piece. I do not own Hannah Montana and I take absolutely NO credit for this work. I'm simply borrowing both the characters and story for my own personal entertainment. All credit goes to Jules Kurre, the author of this work of fiction.
Warning: Rated M, femslash
Bar Girls
By Jules Kurre
Chapter One
Miley looked at her apartment with distaste. The place was a mess and she only had an hour to clean up. If Mikayla got there and saw the assortment of old newspapers, empty Coke boxes, and random clothing strewn about Miley would hear nothing but complaints all evening. "I'll never get this done in time." She rushed about throwing the trash away with alacrity. Dashing into the bathroom she gave it a good once-over. Her CD player blared Led Zeppelin's, "In the Evening." As she listened to the music, Miley considered why she was going to so much trouble for Mikayla when she could barely tolerate her presence. They went on two dates, Mikayla spending an indecent amount of time criticizing Miley. Mikayla was good for one thing: providing material for a story she was writing. The character's main trait was vindictive cattiness, and Mikayla's personality was a perfect match. Miley frowned at the thought of another evening with her.
"So what the hell." She turned Zep down, picked up the phone, and dialed Mikayla's number. After three rings, she heard the answering machine: "Hi, this is Mikayla. My heart goes out to you because your fondest wishes of the moment, being talking to me, are not going to be realized. Leave me a message and maybe I'll fit you into my schedule and return your call. Beep." Miley's face showed part disgust, part nausea. Hoping to sound ill, she cleared her throat noisily, talking more slowly than usual. "Hi, it's me, Miley. Um, I'm not going to be-"
Mikayla picked up the receiver. "Miley, you sound awful. Are you done cleaning yet?"
"Oh, no. I'm sick and won't be able to go to dinner with you tonight. Sorry." Miley coughed horrendously for several seconds.
"Hmm. Too bad. Well, feel better and finish up that cleaning, hon! Bye!" Click.
Relief flooded through her as Miley headed to the back room where her computer was. Calling up the file of her current story, she skim read the first chapter's opening paragraphs. With a frustrated sigh, she took off her reading glasses and rubbed her eyes. Figuring her mental block was due to fatigue, she closed the file.
She went into the bedroom to change into a sleeveless T-shirt and shorts. If she couldn't tackle her writer's block, she could at least do her daily workout. That was something Miley could immediately accomplish. Returning to the living room, she picked up the 10-lb. dumbbells lying on the floor. She purged her mind of thoughts while lifting, the feeling of muscles stretching and her heightened breathing being more than enough for her to focus on. Her wish to clear her mind was thwarted, however, when her thoughts turned to how important writing had become to her. As a child she had used it as an outlet from reality. But as an adult, it had become her life's ambition. Her one fear was that she would never accomplish anything. As her arms rose and fell in the replaying of this ritual, Miley felt her thoughts turning negative in spite of the usual comfort and escape lifting weights gave her. Regaining focus, she pushed the possibility of her fears coming true from her mind.
A light sheen of sweat broke out on Miley's forehead as her workout continued. As she focused on breathing, she considered what her night's objective would be. Miley always had specific intentions when going to the bar. Although her goal was usually to write about the people there, sometimes it would be to play pool, spend time with friends, or simply get drunk. Getting picked up was never on her agenda. She dated people like Mikayla because that personality type provided character material for her writing. Whenever a date wanted something more serious, Miley ended the relationship.
After showering, Miley dressed in black. She tied the laces to her combat boots, smiling to herself, already knowing what her choice of perfume would be. In the volatile mood she was in, it had to be Polo. There was something about that scent and her being on edge. They went together. Concluding that she needed new ideas for her story and the bar would be a good place to get them, she decided her aim for the evening would be to write.
Miley walked into the Grotto, not spying the usual crowd because it was early. She sat down in her favorite spot without getting a drink, knowing Mabel would be over soon. Looking to the pool table, she happily noted Char's absence. The self-appointed womanizer of the bar frequently hit on her, and Miley wasn't in the mood to spar.
She glanced up to see Mabel walking toward her table. "Hi, Mabel."
"Hi, hon. What'll ya have?" She smiled at Miley who grinned back. Mabel was peppy, constantly clearing tables or taking orders, and lending an ear to patrons in the process.
"Just a water." She indicated her notebook.
"Ah, a writing night. And what are you writing about? A woman who's going to walk through that door and change your life perhaps?" She smiled devilishly.
"Oh, I don't think so. But if she arrives, you'll be the first to know."
Mabel chuckled. "Okay, honey." She headed back to the bar to get the water. When she returned, Miley had a frown on her face and stared at the far wall deep in thought. She set the water in front of her. "That boss of yours giving you a hard time again?"
Miley looked up with nonchalance. "Nothing I can't handle."
"What happened this time?"
"I got a review full of lies, that's all."
Mabel nodded sympathetically. "How can she get away with that?"
"It's easy enough. She knows I won't complain and that even if I did, nothing would be done. I'm just a little fish in a big pond." Miley laughed at the bad metaphor.
"But don't they have a higher up manager you can tell?"
Miley snickered at Mabel's ignorance of retail practices. "It's commonly referred to as inhuman resources. Oh, I mean human resources. My complaint would be on the bottom of the list. It's not considered important. They have bigger fish to fry, if you know what I mean."
"But why would your boss do this?"
"Mabel, you will find this very hard to believe, but I'm a big troublemaker."
Mabel looked skeptical, knowing Miley to be neither a troublemaker, nor someone devoid of a work ethic. "I don't believe it."
"Believe what you want. It's true. You see, I had the gall to complain when she cut my hours and gave them to her cronies she goes out with." Miley sipped her water.
"How can that happen?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because they've let this evil woman run amok for years. My theory is that she hails from a far off universe, one devoid of all logic, reason, and sensitivity. But her own kind tired of her machinations and banished her to earth as punishment. In response, she's made her life's goal to take revenge on humanity because she can't take revenge on her own kind. Years ago, when I started working at Gigantic, she singled me out, determining to make my life a living hell. Through me, she would achieve the greatest satisfaction she ever knew. This, of course, all culminated by giving me a review that was six points lower than my last. The only question now is what will be her next evil deed?"
Mabel laughed and ruffled Miley's hair affectionately. "You are something else, you know that?"
Miley sighed. "So, I've been told. The question is…what?"
"That'll be revealed in time, I'm sure. Now, why don't you try to enjoy yourself and forget about work for awhile."
"Thanks, Mabel." As the barmaid left, Miley shook her head wryly, appreciating that she took the time to ask her about work.
The sound of music came from the jukebox since it was the DJ's night off. The bartender controlled the sound level and sometimes it got so loud that Miley couldn't think, much less write. It was on these occasions that she switched her nightly plan to getting drunk. Tonight wouldn't be such a night because the bartender was Cody, her frequent confidant. If it got too loud, she'd give Cody a look and the music would be turned down. She looked over at the bar and waved to her friend who winked back.
Miley scanned the bar for potential material when she saw three women come in. Two she recognized as Eileen and Tate, regulars who had been dating for three years and held the "token couple of the bar" title. Miley didn't know the young woman with them and so began writing about her. She glanced up periodically to take in the developing scene.
Eileen and Tate sat at the bar with their young friend talking quietly. Miley watched as the young woman smiled or laughed. She couldn't tell her eye color due to the distance between them, but this newcomer was beautiful. Several inches shorter than herself, Miley pegged her as quite young also; not more than twenty, she guessed. When the young woman caught her eye and smiled, Miley realized she was staring. She looked away, embarrassed as Char sauntered up. Miley, so occupied with the young woman, hadn't noticed her nemesis enter the bar.
"Hi, Miles. Notice the new meat at the bar?" Char grinned and directed a purposeful leer toward the young woman.
"Oh, yeah. Now I'm into teenagers." Miley didn't care for the way Char looked at the young woman. She had a reputation for seducing all the newly out women and then dumping them.
"She's not that young." Char's brow crinkled in worry. "You think?"
"What do you care? You don't look like her type." Char wore a red flannel shirt, old stone washed jeans and cowboy boots. A key ring hung from her belt loop, the keys of which jingled whenever she walked. Miley often wondered if Char realized that she was providing a built-in alarm for her potential prey. In contrast, the attractive young woman had on khakis and a white, long sleeved blouse. Her shirt buttons were undone, allowing Miley a view of the tight fitting stretch shirt she had on underneath.
"Opposites attract," said Char.
"Not in your case."
"What is it? You want her for yourself or somethin'?"
"No. Char, can you go away, please? I'm busy tonight." Miley, surprised at her own bluntness, ignored the fact that it stemmed from her eagerness to continue writing about the beautiful woman at the bar.
"Writing? Why do you do that here, anyway? This is a bar. You're supposed to have fun here."
"This is fun to me."
Miley winced at the odor as Char leaned closer. The smell was a combination of Old Spice aftershave and tobacco. Not at all pleasing to the olfactory nerves. "I could show you a different kind of fun." Her voice held a suggestive lilt that made the writer cringe.
Miley directed a menacing glare toward Char. "And I could show you many things all of them involving pain."
Char retreated. "Touchy tonight, aren't we?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
"You just need to get laid." Char chuckled as she walked off.
Miley shook her head in disgust at the insinuation that sex was the answer to her problems. Turning her mind back to the woman, she named her to make things easier on her writing. Since she was a strawberry-blonde, Miley called her La Roux, a French name meaning red-haired. She watched as La Roux got up and headed toward the jukebox. Miley's eyes weren't the only ones following her. Char's joined them. When La Roux returned to the bar, K.D. Lang could be heard singing, "Big, Big, Love."
Miley watched Eileen and Tate head for the dance floor. True to character, Char zeroed in for the kill not five seconds after they left. Miley rolled her eyes and watched the proceedings.
"Hi, I'm Char. You're new here, aren't you?" She held out her hand to La Roux who shook it gingerly.
"Yes."
"What's your name?" Char leaned against the bar and gazed intently at the young woman. Her keys jingled a bit as she shifted.
"I'm Lilly."
"Ah. Short for-?"
"Lillian."
"That's a very pretty name. Would you like to dance?"
"Um, not really, thanks." Lilly had come to the bar to socialize, not get picked up. And she could tell Char wasn't looking for just a dance.
"Oh, come on, what can one dance hurt?" Char leaned against the bar and put her hand over Lilly's. "C'mon, hon, you've probably never had the opportunity for any real action, have you?"
Lilly's stomach fluttered. She had never encountered a woman that came on this strong. "I don't think-" She noticed a hand placing itself on Char's shoulder. It was the woman who had been looking at her earlier.
"Char, I think Cody wants to buy you a drink...down there...at the other end of the bar."
"Tell her later." Char turned to face Miley. Her voice tone and facial expression told Miley that she wouldn't retreat easily.
Miley put her arm around Char and ushered her away. "C'mon, c'mon, Cody's waiting." Char glanced longingly back at Lilly. "But, but-"
"Char, she's a young kid, leave her alone for god sakes. Haven't you scarred enough of them for life?"
Char's eyes narrowed and she cocked her head at Miley. "I'm that much of a heartbreaker, huh?"
"Whatever. Just keep your distance from that one." She retreated back to her booth in the corner.
Char stewed for awhile but accepted the drink from Cody. She knew it wouldn't be wise to upset Miley so she scouted around for another target.
A disappointed Lilly watched Miley retreat to her secluded corner. She wanted to thank her as well as get a better look at those stunning blue eyes. "Cody?"
Cody looked over to the young woman Eileen and Tate introduced to her earlier. They had chatted and Cody found her to be intelligent and witty. She returned to Lilly's end of the bar. "Yes, Lilllaayy?" Cody had begun teasingly drawing out the syllables in Lilly's name during their talk earlier.
"That woman over there, the one in the corner, what's her name?"
"That's Miley. I'd stay away from her if I were you."
"Why's that?" Lilly asked, intrigued.
"She's pretty introverted, keeps to herself, likes to write. I don't think she's looking for anything."
"Maybe someone needs to introduce her to the concept of serendipity, then." Lilly's eyes twinkled.
"What's that mean?" Cody hated it when people used big words.
"When you find something you're not looking for. What does she like to drink?"
Miley watched Cody and La Roux talk. After the incident with Char, she lost her concentration and quit writing, La Roux distracting her too much. When Miley found herself wanting to look into those beautiful green eyes again, she stifled the feeling.
Cody came over with a rum and coke. "This is for you, my dear, compliments of Lilly."
Miley's eyes widened. "Who?"
"Lilly. The lovely young strawberry-blonde knockout sitting at the bar. The one you helped earlier?" Cody chuckled. "She asked about you."
Miley's brow arched in skepticism. "Tell her I said thank you. Wait a minute. She's not old enough to buy alcohol."
"21, Miles."
"Hmm. She looks younger."
"Oh, yeah. If I was about fifteen years younger-"
Miley laughed. "Thank her for me, please, Cody."
"You can thank her yourself, darling. That's how these things usually work."
"Not interested."
"Not interested? She's gorgeous, Miles. Plus, she's really nice. I've been talking to her. She's funny, and she's new, probably doesn't have any baggage. Perfect for you."
"Why are you guys always trying to set me up?"
"Because, deep down, you want to be set up and you know it!"
"Oh, sure. Justify your manipulations by saying I want it!" Miley glanced at the bar, her eyes meeting those of the young woman in question. Lilly gave a short wave to Miley who couldn't help but smile back. She shook her head in disgust at her own weakness. It was time to leave.
"Can you sneak me out the back, Cody?"
"Hell, no! What are you so afraid of? She likes you."
"Damn! I just wanted a nice, sedate, evening."
"A what? You know I hate it when you use words I don't know!"
"Why don't you write me a list of all the words you do know, and I'll be sure not to use any others around you!"
"Snarl, snarl, growl, growl! You just need to get laid, honey!" Cody chuckled as she walked back to the bar.
Miley sighed in frustration. "I really wish people would quit saying that!"
Cody returned to Lilly, enjoying her role of go-between. "Miley says thanks."
"Hmm." Lilly wondered why Miley didn't say so herself. She looked over at the solitary woman who scribbled in a notebook. Lilly didn't know that Miley only pretended to write.
Miley eluded Lilly until the bar got busier. She noticed the strawberry-blonde looking at her, but averted her eyes whenever she did.
By the time her friend Oliver Oken arrived it was approaching midnight and Miley considered leaving. She had enough material for the night. "So what are you writing about?" Miley liked Oliver for his loyalty. He was a good person to confide in and she couldn't think of one person in her life, including her family members, about whom she could say that.
"I picked out this cute girl at the bar, a new girl, and I've been writing her story all night." Miley indicated Lilly. Oliver turned and looked toward the bar.
"Whoo! Hot stuff. If I was a horny young lesbian, such as yourself, I'd be asking her to tell me her story up close and personal, if you know what I mean!" Oliver raised his eyebrows suggestively.
"I am not horny! What is it with you people? First Char, then Cody, now you. Maybe you all need to get some. Maybe you're the ones with the problem."
"Hmm. You might have a point there."
"So, how's it going with Ted?" Ted was a cute, young man that he met at the bar the previous week. Oliver actually went out with him more than once.
"Who?" Oliver looked confused.
"Teddy. Cute, little, blonde Teddy? Remember, you were calling him your teddy bear?" Miley recalled the good-looking young man.
After a few seconds, Oliver spoke. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, well, he and I discovered we didn't have one very important thing in common."
"And that was?"
"A belief in monogamy?"
"Are you asking me or telling me?" Miley laughed at her friend.
"Telling?"
"Someday, you'll date someone more than three times. Then you'll move in together and I'll be coming over for dinner. I can see it."
"I think it would sooner happen for you. Like little hot stuff at the bar up there."
"Nope." Miley rolled her eyes.
"Why do you come here anyway, if you don't want to meet anyone?"
"You know why."
"To find a story? Nah, I don't believe that!"
"Okay. Peace and quiet?"
Oliver's eyes lit up. "Ooooh, look, girl, here she comes. She's coming over." Oliver jumped up to leave. "Later, girlfriend!"
Miley grabbed his arm. "No, no, no, wait-" As Oliver left, Lilly came over and sat down in his place across from her in the booth. Miley froze, wondering what La Roux wanted.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"How can you see?"
"Hmm...?"
"To write. Isn't it too dimly lit in here?"
Miley expected a typical come-on, not a logical inquiry. "I see all right. I have good eyesight."
Lilly smiled at the straightforward answer. "Good. You wouldn't want to miss anything worth looking at, would you?"
An uneasiness settled in Miley's stomach, but it was the good type. "No, I wouldn't." The two women continued to stare at each other until Miley spotted Mikayla coming into the bar. She didn't like confrontations but knew there would be one when Mikayla noticed her. She ran her hand through her dark hair and tried to steel her resolve. Her eyes focused on the front of the bar where Mikayla stood. "Lilly, there's somebody here I need to avoid."
"An old girlfriend, perhaps? I suppose you want me to help you make her jealous?" Lilly was only joking, but the mischievous look in her eyes indicated a willingness to play along.
Miley allowed a slight grin, not wanting Lilly to know that she found her question amusing. "Yeah, why not." She took her notebook and pen off the table and placed it on the seat beside her.
Lilly turned around, looking toward the front door. "Is that her?" She indicated a drunken, brown-eyed blonde beginning to make her way over.
"How ever did you guess?"
Lilly got up and planted herself next to Miley, sliding close, and putting her arm around her. Miley inhaled the pleasant smell of her hair and perfume. The scent was subtle, not overbearing. As Lilly put her head on Miley's shoulder, she found her soft touch welcoming.
Mikayla stomped over, making a sincere attempt to avoid falling. It was obvious she was drinking. Her entourage stood behind her. Miley referred to them as the Mikayla entourage: her group of followers that went wherever she did. "So, Miley, feeling better?"
"Oh, much better, thanks." Lilly raised her head from Miley's shoulder and regarded Mikayla.
"And what have we here?" Her eyes looked Lilly up and down. "I don't remember seeing you before."
"Hi, I'm Lilly, nice to meet you." She smiled at the woman and offered her hand, which Mikayla refused. Lilly ignored her lack of manners and continued. "You haven't seen me before because this is my first time here."
"That's obvious. Look, little girl, you're way out of your league here. I wouldn't mess with this one, if I were you."
"Why not? She seems nice to me."
Miley remained silent, hoping the ordeal would end soon. She admitted to herself that she enjoyed Lilly's attentions, but would not let it go any further.
"Let me give you some advice. She's a liar. She was supposed to go to dinner with me tonight and instead she faked being sick to come here. She can't be trusted!" Mikayla glared daggers at Miley, whose eyes focused back at her with calm.
"I can't imagine why she wouldn't want to go out with the likes of you." Lilly tired of being nice to this social pariah.
Mikayla got up in Lilly's face. "You little slut! I oughta-"
Miley leaned over and grasped Mikayla's arm. "Be nice." Hardened, cold blue eyes stared into brown, daring Mikayla to make one more move.
Mikayla backed away. Her entourage did the same. "You'll pay for this, Miley. You could have had the best, and you blew it!"
"Well, I blew you off, that's for sure." Miley smiled icily at her.
"I'll get you back for this!" She stumbled away. Her entourage followed.
"I'm shivering in my boots." Miley gave a mock glare to Mikayla as she left.
"I was wondering…" Lilly got a contemplative look on her face. "Do you think I have a shot at getting into her group?" She stared guilelessly at Miley.
Miley couldn't help it and laughed. "Yeah, but you would need to stay away from me."
Lilly grinned, knowing she wouldn't agree to that stipulation. Thinking it best to change the subject, she scooted away from Miley, not wanting to invade her space. She continued to sit next to her, though. "That was fun."
"That's your idea of fun?"
Lilly nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes, I don't think I have enough excitement in my life. That really got the old adrenaline going, let me tell you!"
"I could suggest something else that might get your adrenaline going, too."
"Oh?" Lilly smiled, and appeared interested.
Miley thought furiously to come up with a quick answer to cancel out her verbal blunder. "Rock climbing! Yeah, ooh, what a rush!"
"You've rock climbed?" Lilly couldn't picture Miley rock climbing. She could, however, picture her reclining and listening to classical music, something like Bach perhaps.
Miley gave up. "No. I haven't rock climbed. I have a friend who does it and says it's a real rush. It was nice to meet you but I have to go home. I have to work in the morning at six."
"Oh. Okay." Lilly rose, allowing her to get by. Miley stood awkwardly for a few seconds, bid Lilly goodbye, and then stopped at the bar to say goodnight to Cody and a few of the others. As she headed out the door, someone touched her arm. It was Lilly.
"You almost forgot your notebook." She grinned and handed it over to Miley, who rolled her eyes.
"Thanks."
Lilly smiled and watched her go, thinking she'd be the type to go home and listen to classical. She was right.
Chapter Two
The cold, late January air made Miley shiver as she headed to her car the next morning. She grinned, even as her teeth chattered. No snow. It was one of the things she liked about living in Columbus. Usually, there was little of it in that part of Ohio.
She waited for her car to heat up, reflecting on the previous night. Lilly was attractive, charming, and funny. But when she confronted the fact that Lilly might be interested in her, she pushed it to the back of her mind.
When Miley got home from work that afternoon, she opened her notebook and read over the previous night's notes. Coming to the end, she noticed something scribbled in an unfamiliar hand. The note read, "So, do you think I should go out with Char or not? Lilly." Next to that, she had left her phone number. At first, Miley feared someone had read her notes, but when she recognized the author as Lilly, she knew the young woman wouldn't have had time to read anything. She was only separated from her notebook briefly.
Lilly's handwriting was neat and orderly for being rushed. Wondering if that revealed anything about the woman herself, she paused in thought. Was everything in Lilly's life as organized as her handwriting? Or did the handwriting indicate a disorder in her life that she tried to compensate for? Miley chastised herself for her tendency to analyze everything. But she almost regretted not seeking the answers.
Miley tore the note out and tacked it onto her corkboard in the kitchen. She didn't know why she did it, except to torment herself. Shaking her head wryly, she glanced a last time at the note, and exited the kitchen, her heart heavy. And then the phone rang.
The answering machine kicked in. Miley never answered her phone before screening the caller. On those rare occasions when she did answer, it was always someone trying to sell her something or attempting to collect on a late credit card bill. She found these types of people to be annoying more times than not, often finding herself ending such conversations abruptly. The machine was a great way to avoid all this tension. "Hi, Miley, it's me. I hope you're there. Pick up the phone, it's about mother." Miley's chest tightened. It was her mom calling to tell her about the latest family catastrophe. This happened at least once a week. She debated on whether or not to answer, before finally picking up the receiver.
"Helooo." She tried to begin the conversation on an upbeat note.
"Hi, I've got a problem. Your grandmother's out of control and Jackson's not answering his phone." Susan Stewart's tone was frantic. Miley knew to choose her words carefully or her mother might burst into tears.
"He never answers his phone when there's a problem. What's up?"
"I've had it! I can't live with this anymore! I'm not going to allow any more alcohol in this house. If she doesn't like it, she can move!"
"What happened now?" Miley softened her voice in an attempt to soothe her mother.
"She was supposed to go over to Blanche's house for that reunion party but when I got home from shopping, she was sitting there on the couch looking half gone! She drank the whole bottle. When I told her she was in no condition to go and said I wouldn't take her, she started screaming at me. We had a fight, I broke that heirloom vase of hers, and then I tried to call your brother, who as usual wasn't available. Now, she's in her room. I hate the sound of that door slamming!" Susan's eyes filled up, on the verge of tears.
Miley felt trapped with no escape. She couldn't solve her grandmother's problems any more than she could make her mother happy. She could only listen and offer support. But it was never enough. Often, she had a hard time reconciling her strong feelings of love for her grandmother with the painful reality of her weakness. Her grandmother should have been one of the best people she would ever know. Instead, she was often one of the biggest disappointments in Miley's life. "You broke that vase? Which one?"
"You know, the one that's been in the family for over 50 years. I don't care about it. I just lost control when she called me a bitch!"
"I'm sorry. Do you want me to come over?"
"No, honey, there's no need for you to do that. I know how busy you are. I just needed to talk. I'm sorry to bother you." Susan's voice conveyed genuine remorse. She regretted venting to Miley about an impossible situation, but she didn't have anyone else. A drunken mother was not considered an appropriate subject for her circle of friends.
"Please don't apologize. I told you I'm here if you need to talk. I mean that. She'll calm down later."
"Oh, yeah. The 'honeymoon phase.'" Susan laughed to dispel the tension. The honeymoon phase described the aftermath of an argument when the alcoholic offered no apology or acknowledgment of the emotional pain to the family. Things went on normally with false happiness, the wronged family members harboring resentment toward the alcoholic. Of course, another hurtful incident would follow as the pattern continued. "I'll talk to you later."
"Bye." As Miley hung up the phone, she could feel the tightness in her chest subside. It returned to the back of her heart where it commonly retreated.
She called her brother, Jackson. Maybe he would feel like going over to Susan's for awhile. His machine came on. "Jackson, it's me. Pick up."
"Yeah, what?" He had just gotten back from a long haul on the road and didn't feel like being bothered with family.
"Did you get a message from Susan?"
"Uh, huh."
"She and grandma had another fight. It seems to be getting worse, lately. She was pretty upset. Maybe you could go over there and talk to grandma or something."
"I don't want to get in the middle of this. In fact, there's no way I'm getting in the middle of this. I'm exhausted. I just got back from a 3-day trip. The only plans I have are for sleep."
"Well, Jackson, I sympathize with you, I really do. I have many things I'd rather be doing, too. Like writing my novel, for one. But—"
"How's that going?" Jackson had never understood his sister's fondness for that hobby. It seemed like an incredible waste of time to him. She could be out on the road, making $30+ an hour like he did. But instead she chose to pursue a profession that would surely bring her only one thing: nothing.
Miley considered not answering, but Jackson was the only one who ever asked about it. "I've had a bit of a block, lately, but I'll get through it. I'm having a problem establishing the plot, that's all."
He shook his head in response to her nonsense. "Once you figure out what you want to do with your life, it'll all fall into place. What is it you want to do with your life, anyway?"
Miley resented the question. She had told him repeatedly that she wanted to be a writer. He was in denial. She thought with amusement that wanting to write was very much like being gay. Only tell a select few. "I've told you before that I want to write. How many times do I have to say it?" Miley knew it was a mistake to show agitation toward her volatile brother, but she didn't care.
"Will you chill? You're too fucking sensitive! I have to get some sleep. Bye!" Click.
Enraged that he would hang up on her, she slammed the phone down. Why did I even bother?
She had an overwhelming urge to call Lilly, but stopped herself from doing it. She figured that Lilly might have more interesting things to do than listen to her unsolvable family problems.
Later that night, Miley went to the bar to forget her family problems. Her objective this night would be to get drunk. Not falling down, drunk, but pleasantly inebriated. Having the next day off, she determined to have a good time. No writing, no contemplation, no socialization. The new quarter began in a couple of days and she wouldn't be able to cut loose until it ended, so it was just as well.
She entered the bar with a flourish, determined to be happy, even though her family's problems were not far from her thoughts. Glancing to the bar, she spotted Cody. Avoiding casing the place for familiar faces, she sauntered over to Cody and gave her a smile. "Good evening."
"Hi, Miles. What'll it be?" Cody smiled back, keying in to the false mood her friend portrayed. Knowing it wasn't a good idea to pry into Miley's problems, she said nothing.
"Rum and coke. More rum than coke." The jukebox played "Big, Big, Love." Recalling that Lilly played that song the night before, Miley began to turn around.
Before she did, Cody spoke. "Oh, yeah, she's here. Over there, talking to Danielle." The bartender snickered.
Miley took a big drink of the rum and coke Cody brought her. "Oh?" Her voice drawled out the inquiry. "Who?" She crinkled her eyebrows in confusion, although she knew quite well of whom Cody spoke.
"Very funny. Like you don't know. You better go stake your claim now before somebody snatches her up."
Miley ignored the comment and went to sit at the end of the bar. From her position, she viewed the booths, tables, and dance floor with ease. Her gaze made its way surreptitiously to where Lilly sat talking to Danielle. Miley knew of Danielle, but had never dated her. She was okay, Miley guessed, but never seemed to date anyone for longer than a couple of days or a week at most. It disturbed her to realize that Danielle was a female Oliver Oken. And she was talking to Lilly. Finishing up her drink, she motioned to Cody. "Another, please." She smiled sweetly.
Cody returned in a few seconds with another drink for Miley. "When she came in, she asked if you were here."
Miley gave up and grinned. "Who?"
"Don't even-" Cody gave her a knowing look. Sometimes she wished Miley could lay off the sarcasm. But the bartender knew it was a defense and she relied on it. "Then Danielle came swooping over and scooped her up, and they've been talkin' ever since. That was about a half an hour ago."
"You make Dani sound like a vulture." Miley took a sip of her drink and glanced over at Lilly.
"She is."
"In any case, thanks for the update. The unsolicited update."
"Dammit!"
"The update I didn't ask for! Sorry." Miley looked back over to where Lilly and Danielle sat. They were both laughing. Danielle put her hand on Lilly's arm and squeezed it. She tried to fight down a wave of jealousy that rose in her chest upon seeing this. Without realizing it, she continued to stare at them. As Lilly caught her eye she looked away but didn't miss the smile that came from the young woman. It wasn't difficult for her to smile back and nod out of politeness. Lilly had one of the most endearing smiles she had ever seen. Of course, Cody was observing everything.
"Okay, so now you guys are doing the eye thing. Why don't you just go over and talk to her?"
"First of all, she's talking to someone else, and secondly, I don't see any reason to."
"How about, she's nice, she's sweet, she's attractive, and for completely unknown reasons, she seems to like you." Cody hit Miley playfully on the side of the head for emphasis.
"I'm not looking for a one night stand."
"I don't think she is, either."
"Or anything more." Miley reminded herself that there was a reason she didn't have relationships. Breaking her vow to herself would indicate that she couldn't trust her own judgment.
Cody left well enough alone and went to the other end of the bar. As Miley continued to sit alone, what she feared would happen, did. Lilly left Danielle and within seconds plopped herself down on the barstool next to her. "Hi."
"How's it goin'?"
Lilly smiled, almost as if she knew the affect it would have on Miley. "Pretty good. Pretty good." She continued to stare at her.
"Oh. By the way, my answer's 'no.'"
This appeared to catch Lilly off guard, as Miley hoped it would. "Your answer's 'no' to what?" She looked briefly confused before catching on. Miley referred to the note she left in her notebook. "Why not? Me, Char, we could get a little butch-femme thing going on, don't you think?"
"Nope."
"What? You don't think I'm femme enough?"
"Oh, no, that's definitely not it." Miley's voice took on an unconscious, sultry edge. "I just don't think she's your type."
"And what's my type?" Lilly found herself responding to Miley's closeness and shifted a bit. When she did, her knee touched Miley's. She neglected to move it away not wanting to appear rude. On the other hand, if she left it there, it might send another message. To her surprise, Miley appeared to ignore the action and continued talking.
"Oh, I don't know," she mused. When Lilly's knee made contact with hers, a pleasurable jolt shot up her leg. She wondered what would happen if Rudy replaced her knee with her hand. Forcing herself to abandon these thoughts, she continued. "You'd probably go for someone more stable, someone like Deb." She pointed out a woman with short, brown, hair sitting in the back by herself next to the dance floor. "Deb met her girlfriend about three years ago, here. That's Kristy." She indicated a tall, demure, blonde sitting at the other end of the bar. "That's Deb's girlfriend."
"But why aren't they sitting together, then?"
"Because they're picking each other up. Watch, you can see them looking at each other. Look." Lilly turned her attention to the two women. Deb caught Kristy's eye and smiled at her. The other woman nodded her head in response. Pretty soon, Deb indicated that Kristy should come over. In a few seconds, both women sat together at Deb's table.
"I don't get it."
"They do it to put excitement into their relationship. Deb explained it to me once. They agree to meet between the hours of eight and ten, but nothing specific. That way, whoever gets there first won't know when the other one will get there. I guess they find it fun. It's one of those relationship things." Miley shrugged. She had no idea why she disclosed that to Lilly.
"That's kind of sweet."
"If you say so. I think it's kind of sappy, myself. Either you've got it or you don't. No one should have to work that hard at it."
"They seem to be enjoying themselves, though."
"Whatever."
Lilly sensed Miley retreating. She changed the subject back to their previous verbal play. "Well, you've convinced me. I decided not to go out with Char."
Miley took a long swig of her drink. "Good. You deserve better than that." It came out of her mouth before she realized it.
"I do?"
Miley focused on Lilly's green eyes, and sighed. A few years ago, she would have asked her out. But now dating wasn't on her agenda except to generate story ideas. And she knew Lilly would be more than that. "Yes," she replied. Before Lilly could respond, Miley rose and joined her friends at the pool table.
Lilly watched her retreat with interest. "Hey, Cody! C'mere!" The bartender turned, amused at the lesbian soap opera unfolding by the minute. "Yes, my dear?"
"How do I get a date with Miley?"
"You don't." At Lilly's sour look, she continued. "But you can get her attention."
When Miley spotted Joannie at the pool table, she saw it as a good excuse to relieve herself of Lilly's distracting company and went over to watch her friend play. Joannie was playing against Jackie. Several of the bar patrons nicknamed her "Jackie Daniels," due to her love of whiskey. "Hi, Joannie. Jackie Daniels, how's it goin'?"
"Pretty good. I love that name! It's great!" Miley grinned at the shorter woman. She found Jackie's pride in her nickname amusing. Joannie nodded to Miley, but was concentrating on her shot. It looked like it would be the final one of the game. "Eight ball in the left corner," Joannie called, as she prepared to shoot. The area around the table quieted as Miley, Jackie, and a few other spectators watched to see if Joannie emerged the victor. She aimed at the cue ball and brought the cue stick back to strike. Just then, Lilly appeared and stepped up next to Miley. "Who's winning?" She looked at the table, wondering if the balls were allowed to hit each other. Lilly didn't know anything about pool, but it seemed to her as if people enjoyed it. She had always wanted to know more about the game and saw this as her opportunity.
Unfortunately, she chose the moment that Joannie was shooting to speak. This break in her concentration caused the cue stick to slip out, barely tapping the cue ball. It didn't go anywhere near the eight ball. "Dammit!" the woman groaned.
"Yes! Yes!" Jackie jumped up and down, knowing she had another chance at winning.
Joannie turned her eyes toward Lilly with an ominous glare. "Who are you?" she drawled. She was the type of pool player who took the game too seriously.
Lilly gulped and her eyes widened, as she realized the woman was quite angry. "I'm really sorry." She glanced at Miley for support.
Miley rolled her eyes and tried to keep from grinning. "This is my friend, Lilly. Don't mind her, she can't help being a nuisance."
"Hey. I am not a nuisance!" Lilly's reply was indignant until she realized that Miley referred to her as a friend. "Friend?"
Miley said nothing, but stood watching Jackie shoot. The eight ball flew into the left corner pocket, winning the game. Joannie grimaced. She didn't like to lose. "Okay, friend of Miley, you owe me. You and me, now!"
Lilly's face showed confusion, until she realized that Joannie wanted her to play pool. "Um, I, I don't know how to play pool."
"Miley, you can show her how, I don't mind. I just want to beat her!"
Miley sighed, wondering how she got herself into these situations. It's because Lilly keeps following me. She said nothing and went over to the cue sticks aligned on the wall, picking a suitable one for Lilly, who stood looking back at her with disbelief. "Oh, no. I said I don't play pool."
"You only said you didn't know how. Not that you don't play at all." Miley had a mischievous look in her eye. She handed the cue stick to Lilly, who held it as if it was diseased.
"I can't do this."
"Sure you can. It's easy. I'll show you." Miley regarded Lilly as if they were conducting a business transaction. What she didn't understand was the way her heart beat faster the moment the Lilly stepped up to the table. She ignored it.
"C'mon, I don't have all night. I would like to get in some real action too, not just play and beat some amateur." Joannie racked the balls.
"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure you can beat me?" Lilly took the cue stick in her hands with confidence and strode forward. "C'mon." She indicated Miley with impatience. "You said you would show me. So, show me."
Miley raised her eyebrows at Lilly's assertiveness. Joannie racked the balls and stepped back, indicating for Lilly to break. "Okay, La Roux, let's go."
"What did you call me?"
"La Roux. It's my fictional name for you. It's a French name meaning red-haired. I was writing about you last night, and I had to call you something." Miley deadpanned her whole statement, hoping to make light of the admission as she moved in behind Lilly, and put her arms around her to show her how to shoot. She told herself it wasn't out of line to share this information with Lilly. It didn't mean anything, certainly not that she had any prurient interest in the woman. Not at all.
Lilly's heartbeat sped up with Miley's closeness and her use of the nickname. If they hadn't been surrounded by a group of women watching their every move, she might have asked if that was akin to a pet name. She might also have asked what Miley was writing about. Instead, she nodded her head, regarding her companion with a hint of a smile.
"Right now, all you want to do is what's called breaking. You hit the balls with the white ball, the cue. Whoever gets a ball in first, goes first. You can pick stripes or solids, but most people pick the color of the first ball they shoot in. Got it?" As Miley talked, she positioned Lilly's cue stick to shoot.
Lilly was only aware of Miley's voice and her hands positioned on top of hers. The pressure Miley's fingers made on Lilly's hands distracted her. She tried in vain to clear her head and concentrate.
"Got it?" Lilly heard Miley repeating. "Oh, yeah, yeah. Gotcha. No problem."
"Okay then, shoot." Miley moved away from Lilly's body, telling herself she didn't miss the contact.
Lilly hit the cue and saw the striped four go into the right pocket. She looked to Miley expectantly. "Now all you have to do is hit the rest of the stripes in and hit in the eight ball last and you'll have this loser beat!" Miley directed a challenging look to Joannie, who smirked at her.
"Fat chance of that!"
"Um, I'm not sure I have the shooting part down right. Could you show me again, please?" Lilly turned around, smiling sweetly at Miley. She pretended it was serious business to hide the fact that she wanted Miley's arms around her again.
Blue eyes met emerald, as Miley regarded Lilly with suspicion. "Sure." She stepped forward and put her arms around her again. "Now, everyone, has their own style, of course, but really what you want to do is position the stick in the way that you have the most control in." As she said this, Miley glanced downward and noticed that she had a good view of Lilly's bra. Since her top two shirt buttons were undone, Miley could see that it had lace at the top. She wondered if the rest of the garment was lace. Her eyes traveled of their own volition to Lilly's breasts and she looked back up, hoping no one noticed. Joannie hadn't missed it, though, and directed an amused and knowing smirk to Miley. She glared at her and continued her instruction. "You can shoot like this." She put the cue stick on top of Lilly's index and middle fingers. "Or like this," she continued, positioning it between her index and thumb. "It all depends on what you feel comfortable with." She stepped back and allowed Lilly to decide which way she wanted to shoot.
"Thanks."
"No problem."
Miley gave Lilly pointers as she played Joannie. She cut back on their physical interaction, though, because she enjoyed touching her too much.
Lilly, for her part, did well, in spite of her growing attraction to Miley. She put up a good fight, but every time Miley spoke it distracted her, making her lose all concentration. She lost the game, but didn't care.
"Good game, kid. I almost forgive you for messing up my other game!" Joannie shook Lilly's hand and turned to Jackie. "Doubles next with Sue and Jen," she told her. "We'll play again, sometime, Lilly."
"Okay. Thanks." Lilly turned away from the table and walked to the bar. Miley stepped in beside her.
"I think you won her over."
"With your help."
"Nah. You have a natural talent for it."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I thought you were quite good." Miley spotted an opportunity to leave the situation and took it. "I see my friend, Oliver over there. I'm going to go say hello. Later, Lilly."
"See ya." She sat down and Cody brought her a drink. She took a sip. "Thanks, Cody."
"I should keep my big, fat, mouth out of this, but what the hell. She was checking you out, big time, over at the pool table."
Lilly grinned. "She was, huh?"
"Oh, yes. I could see the battle being waged behind those gorgeous baby blues. She likes you."
"I like her, too. But if I tell her, I'm sure she'll bolt like a gazelle or something. She's not exactly approachable."
"Then don't tell her, show her."
Lilly smiled and contemplated the bartender's words as she took another sip of her drink. "Hey, do you have any peanuts?"
Meanwhile, Miley bolted like a gazelle over to Oliver, who stood near the dance floor. The jukebox was playing, "Enjoy the Silence," by Depeche Mode. As the lyrics ran through her head, she greeted her friend. "Oliver, good evening."
"You're so damn polite, you're going to make a great catch for some lucky, young girl. Wait a minute!" His eyes darted to the bar. "There's a girl right there. How about her?" He indicated Lilly. "She's cute, she's hot, she's happenin'. Ooh, and she's lookin' this way!"
"Why don't you go out with her, if you like her so much?"
"Because you'd kill me!"
"I would not. She can go out with anybody she wants to. I don't care."
"Oh. She doth protesteth too much, methinks!"
"Ouch! Did you actually attend that Shakespeare class?"
"Why, certainly. That's where I met that cute guy from the video store, remember?"
"The one who gave you free rentals?"
"Oh, yes. And that's not all he gave to me."
"Didn't he give you about a weekend?"
"Why must you turn every one of my relationships into something sleazy?"
"I'm not the one who makes them sleazy!" Miley laughed at Oliver. She enjoyed their light banter, so devoid of tension.
"Ha. Ha." Oliver looked to the dance floor. "You want to dance?"
"You know I don't dance."
"I bet you'd dance for little cute stuff at the bar!"
"Nope." Miley leaned against the wall and stared at the dance floor feeling lonely, even though she was in a bar full of people. She didn't think twice about it because it was normal to her.
Closing time came an hour later. Miley abandoned her earlier plans to get drunk and sat around chatting with Oliver. He chose to shift their conversation from Lilly to easier topics, sensing that Miley's mood was getting worse.
After Oliver left, Miley was the last one in the bar. She got up to leave, and said goodbye to Mabel and Cody. As she stepped outside and zipped up her leather jacket, what she saw both surprised her and made her heartbeat speed up. There was Lilly sitting on the hood of her car, her scarf tied over her lower face, and her gloved hands intertwined. She looked up at Miley's approach and lowered the scarf from her mouth. "Hey."
"Would you mind telling me what exactly it is that you're doing?"
"I'm praying to Krishna, what does it look like I'm doing? I locked my keys in my car! Duh!" Lilly looked beyond exasperated. She had waited on Miley for awhile and received plenty of offers for help, but there was only one she wanted to accept.
Miley snickered. "You need some help?"
"Don't laugh at me! This is not funny! I never do these kinds of things!"
"Maybe something distracted you this evening."
"Maybe it did!"
Miley stopped laughing and assessed the situation. It was 2:30am, on a Sunday morning. Not a great time to call anyone for help. "I take it all your keys are in there?"
"Yes, my apartment keys, too."
"You live with anyone?"
"I have a roommate, but-"
"I could take you home, I guess. You could come back in the morning with your extra keys."
"My roommate's gone for the weekend."
Miley reassessed the situation. Lilly had no keys, her roommate wasn't home, it was the middle of the night, and freezing. She couldn't believe that she was about to ask this woman to spend the night with her. "I guess you could-"
"I could just spend the night at your place." She slid off the hood of the car, her green eyes staring expectantly at Miley.
"You planned this, La Roux!" Miley walked up close to Lilly, intending to stare her down and make her admit it. She underestimated her opponent.
"Ha! You are full of yourself, aren't you? I did not! And I resent you even suggesting it!"
"Yeah, I'll bet you do! How many offers for help did you get before I came out here?"
Lilly remained guileless. "None." She tried to inject sincerity into her voice.
"Oh, right. Here you are, looking so damn beautiful, sitting on the hood of your car and not one single person leaving that bar asked you if you needed help? You think I was born yesterday?"
"You think I'm beautiful?" Lilly's body heated at Miley's words, in spite of the dropping temperature.
"No! I mean, yes...no!" Miley threw her hands up in irritation. "Let's go!" She headed to her car.
Lilly followed Miley with a hidden smile on her face, and tried not to feel guilty. She didn't have to try very hard.