13 Going on 30

Dax took Rose back to his huge penthouse apartment. He talked about nothing but himself the whole way back, telling Rose about how successful he thought his new movie was going to be and how Steven Spielberg and Quentin Tarentino were fighting to have him in their next movies. Rose found it all very boring. Surely Dax could at least ask about her life and her projects.

By the time they reached Dax's building, Rose was wishing she had just gone home, or that she had at least stayed to hang out with Mira. She couldn't understand what was so special about Dax. Why was she dating him? It made no sense to the petite woman.

He had a cool bachelor pad, Rose had to admit. Along one wall of the living room was a massive tank containing a miniature tiger shark. Rose watched it swim the length of its tank, feeling as trapped here as it was. Where had Dax gone? Would it be rude to just slip out?

Rose got her answer when his hands reached in front of her and set down two glasses of red wine. Then he slid the straps of her dress off of her shoulders. Rose felt very uncomfortable with this, and she twisted away from Dax and put the straps back on her shoulders. He frowned and then leaned in and kissed her neck.

"I couldn't wait to see you tonight," Dax murmured in her ear. His breath smelled like tuna – hadn't he at least brushed his teeth today? Rose tried not to breathe in the nasty scent, thinking quickly. Anything to make Dax stop touching her.

"Do you want to play a game? Do you have Battleship?" Rose asked hopefully. It had been she and Mack's favorite game growing up. For a split second Rose wished she were the one at Mack's apartment tonight.

"Oh, I have Battleship," Dax answered. "And later, baby, I'll show you my destroyer." Rose, innocent like a thirteen year old, didn't get Dax's dirty little joke. "I call the blue board."

"Great. I'll be the red board." Rose made a path towards the couch. Dax followed with the wine glasses in his hands. He plopped down beside Rose on the black leather couch. He put his arm on the back of the couch and leaned in towards Rose, kissing her ear.

Rose giggled as Dax wrapped his arms around her tightly and started to kiss his way down her neck. She tried in vain to put her hands in his way. Rose really wished she could just go home. The idea of a boyfriend wasn't as appealing now that she knew what this boy liked to do. It was uncomfortable.

"What?" Dax asked as he continued to kiss her. He thought Rose was enjoying his kissing expertise. Rose continued to laugh and try to escape, and then it hit him. "Oh, I'm sorry, baby. I forgot that I owe you the best striptease of your life."

Dax stood up, much to Rose's relief. He picked up a small remote lying on the coffee table and pressed the play button. Music began to fill the room.

"Who's too sexy on screen and off screen, baby?" Dax asked as he took off his dark blue shirt. He twirled it over his head like a lasso and then tossed it at Rose.

"Gross," Rose whispered, disgusted with both Dax and herself. What kind of person enjoyed this? Why had he told her that he "owed" her a striptease? Had the last time they'd been together been her turn? Rose had a sudden vision of herself in silky lingerie that she was modeling for Dax. What was wrong with her?

Now Dax had removed his pants. He was wearing nothing but blue boxers, and he was slowly dancing closer and closer to Rose. She had to get out of here, and fast. She threw one of the couch's pillows at Dax. "Keep it in!" Rose shrieked. "I don't want to see it again!"

Dax looked from the pillow to Rose and back again. "I don't get it, baby," he told her, his face confused. "Am I going too slowly for you?" Dax suddenly grinned. "Oh, I know…you always did like to take my clothes off yourself."

This was the final straw for Rose. Keeping one hand cupped over her eyes, she picked up her purse and headed for the door. "I have to go!" She didn't bother to look behind her as she ran into the hallway and into an open elevator.

Thankfully, when Rose reached the lobby of Dax's apartment building, she could see a taxi waiting on the street as an older couple slowly walked towards the building. She flagged the taxi so it wouldn't leave without her and scrambled into the backseat. Rose was just grateful that she had gotten out of there without seeing more of Dax than she had wanted to see.

Once Rose was safe in her own apartment, she headed straight for her bedroom. She took a long bubble bath and then slipped into warm red pajamas. She climbed into bed, and the last conscious thought she had was that many blocks away, Mack was holding Ronny as the two slept. Rose fell asleep feeling lonely.

0o0o0o0

The next morning on her way down to the lobby, Rose ran into her young redheaded friend Becky. Today Becky was wearing a white blouse with a navy blue plaid skirt and navy blue knee socks – a private school uniform if Rose had ever seen one. "Hi, Rose!" Becky chirped.

Rose found herself telling Becky all about her disastrous "date" from the night before. She ranted about how gross it had been as Dax kissed her and how he had stripped for her. "And all I wanted was to play a few games! He didn't have Battleship or Monopoly. He didn't have any games at all."

"Boys are so stupid," Becky sympathized with Rose as the two stepped onto the street. "I mean, how come the ones you like never like you back?" The younger girl made a face to show her disgust.

"Oh Becky, it's even worse than you think. Sometimes you don't even realize you like a boy until you see him with someone else. Then you have to fight for what you want." Rose adjusted her purse on her shoulder and then checked that her hair was holding up. "Love is a battlefield, Becky. That's rule number one."

Becky looked up at Rose in admiration. "You're deep."

Rose nodded. "Good luck with fractions, Becky," she said as she got into the back of the Town Car.

"Have fun at work!" Becky called after her idol.

The Poise staff had a meeting scheduled first thing that morning. As the others discussed ideas for articles, Rose played with the Fruit Rollup she'd brought in her purse, wrapping it around her index finger on her left hand. It was better that she wasn't paying attention to the others – it would have embarrassed her.

Richard walked into the meeting room then, looking grim. The staff fell completely silent as Richard took his seat at the head of the long table. "There's no easy way to say this," Richard began, waving the papers in his hand. "So I guess I'll just come out with it. The circulation records are in. Our numbers are dismal. I just got off the phone with corporate. They have dropped the R bomb."

"Redesign Poise?" echoed several staff members. They sounded outraged.

"But Sparkle steals all of our ideas. They copy everything we do. Why do we have to redesign? It's total bull."

Richard didn't look happy about his staff's lack of enthusiasm for the possibility of redesign. "If we don't redesign and bring up our numbers, corporate is prepared to pull the plug on us."

Mira crossed her arms over her beautiful cranberry colored leather coat. "Richard, redesign is a death sentence," Mira declared flatly.

"No, it's not," Rose replied. She didn't like to contradict her cooler friend, but Mira clearly needed to be corrected in this case. "It's a chance to have some fun." As Rose gathered her courage, she stood up. "Let Sparkle have all of our stale, secondhand ideas. It's time to pull ourselves together and show the world we still have some poise left."

Richard was very pleased with Rose's attitude. "Well, Rose, I shall be leaving it to you and Mira to come up with something brilliant. I know you two can do it." Richard signaled that the meeting was over and the staff began to file out. Rose tried to catch up with Mira but the taller girl was too far ahead. "We have two weeks!" Richard said to his retreating staff.

Arlene was waiting for Rose on the other side of the door. In her hands was a stack of pink note cards. "I have your messages, Miss Ortiz," she announced to her boss timidly.

"Let's hear 'em," Rose chirped as she began to walk to her office. She was bursting with energy, happy to be at work. She was needed here.

"Um, OK." Arlene replied in her shy voice. "Emily Pratt says 'I can't believe you scooped my story, you little bitch. I hope you die in one of your casual pantsuits.'"

The happy smiled slid off of Rose's pretty face. "Oh, wow. That's so mean."

"Miss Lewis called and told me to tell you that she hopes you choke on your own bile and that you're a conniving little snake." Arlene flipped to the next card, but Rose reached out and gently tugged them away.

"I'll read them," she told Arlene kindly. She was still working on trying to make Arlene less frightened of her. The phone on Arlene's desk rang.

"This is Poise magazine. You're on Miss Ortiz's line," Arlene said in a professional tone. She frowned as the man on the other end cussed at her. "Please, sir, don't take that tone with me. I'm just Miss Ortiz's assistant." Rose felt guilty as she watched this. What had she done that was so terrible? Why did people hate her?

Rose slipped into her office and plopped into her rolling chair. She looked through the rest of her messages. She read the first one out loud. "You seem uptight. Let me come over and show you my destroyer." Rose mad a face and crumpled the paper. 'Dax is so weird.'

She opened a colorful Lisa Frank folder with a unicorn on the cover and looked at the papers inside of it. Rose reached for a big pencil and crossed off one of the squares. Her office phone rang. "Yes?"

"Dax is on line one, Miss Ortiz," Arlene said.

"Gag me," Rose groaned, remembering the night before. "Please tell him that I'm very busy, Arlene."

"Of course, Miss Ortiz. He said he'd like to know what would be a good time for dinner."

Rose groaned again. "Tell him he can try back in ten zillion years. Ask him how that works." Rose hung up the phone before Arlene could say anything else. She turned her attention back to the folders in front of her.

She had just opened the second folder when the phone rang once more. Before Rose could even answer, Arlene was talking frantically. "I'm so sorry to bother you again, Miss Ortiz, but Ty is here to see you."

"Who?" Rose asked. This was one name she definitely didn't know. She furrowed her brow, trying to match the name with a face.

"Vella from the art department's husband," Arlene said, hoping to jog her boss' memory. Rose sure had been strange lately. Arlene sounded as though she didn't approve of whatever Rose and Ty's relationship was. Rose wondered if Ty was another reason that people seemed to hate her. There was only one way to find out.

"Oh. OK. Sure, Arlene, you can send him in," Rose replied. She hung up the phone and closed her folders just as Arlene appeared in the office, followed by a man Rose assumed to be Ty. Rose stood up and straightened the hem of her white camisole top.

"Vella forgot her lunch. I was dropping it off for her and I thought I would say hello to Rose," Ty explained to Arlene. Rose could tell Arlene didn't believe this, but she shut the door to Rose's office and left them alone.

Rose was smiling at the blond man's thoughtfulness. "You brought your wife her lunch; that's so sweet," she gushed as Ty crossed the two steps to her, grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her full on the lips.

Rose pulled away as fast as she could. "What are you doing? You're married, and to a girl I work with," Rose hissed angrily.

"When has that ever stopped us?" Ty asked with an evil glint in his strange silver eyes. He wouldn't have been bad looking if Rose hadn't known what he did behind his wife's back – it made him ugly to her. Poor Vella. "Come on Rosie, lie down and take a memo," Ty cooed.

Rose did what her instinct told her to. She pumped up her left knee swiftly, right into Ty's manhood. On the other side of the glass, Arlene clapped. But then Rose came marching out of her office and Arlene looked back at her computer screen, resisting the urge to laugh.

The petite woman strode down the hallway to where Mira's office was located, but she stopped dead in her tracks outside of the art department when she heard Mira's voice. "…And I don't want Rose to find out," Mira was saying quietly.

"What is up with her, anyway?" came the voice of Mira's companion. It sounded like Vella. "Rose just seems so lost lately."

"I don't know. I'm just getting so sick of her act. She thinks she's thirteen. I mean, last night when we went out, she started hitting on some little kid. It was so disgusting. And she stole Charlotte's idea and then fired her. I say we go forward with our own presentation and let her fall on her ass."

Rose's world came crashing down.