Roomies

Chapter 10

Change Afoot

"Damn, there is nothing quite as sexy as a hot girl dressed in leather that knows what to do with an oxyacetylene torch," Matt, the sculpture lab TA laughed, admiring the ease with which Jane shut down the big Oxyweld 17 cutting torch.

"Need more oxygen, funny man," she sighed. "We're down to the last bottle." She checked the valves again, hanging the hot torch on the hook. She pulled off her faceshield and goggles, and began unbuckling her protective leathers. She felt him undoing the apron from the rear. "Thanks. I'm beyond tired." She draped the damp leather gear over a bar welded to the metal wall and plopped down onto a chair across from Matt.

"Gas is being delivered in the morning, Jane. At least you're getting your money's worth out of your lab fee. Everyone else uses the plasma cutters, you know; they're afraid of that torch. That thing can slice through three inches of steel easily."

"I like the rougher, wicked torch cut, especially on the heavy plate," she explained. "Hey, do we have a working pneumatic rivet gun? With a big tip?"

"Yeah, and you'll be needing a bucking bar and an assistant. Sure, I'll give you a hand. There's at least a couple thousand old style boiler rivets in that barrel, and a gas fired rivet forge next to it. I think that stuff was donated over twenty years ago."

"Got anything planned for tomorrow night?"

"I think I'm helping this crazy artist chick with a taste for late nineteenth-century technology."

She smiled at that. "Thanks. Let me clean this up, and I'll be on my way."

"Leave it. You'll be in first thing in the morning, right? Besides, there's nobody here to trip over it." He stood and stretched, and walked over to the shop stereo and shut it off.

Jane looked around, finally noticing that she was alone with Matt. "Oh shit, I didn't realize how late it was. God, I'm sorry. You should have said something. I didn't mean to piss away your Friday night."

"No problem. I don't have anywhere I need to be; it's not like I have a life these days. Besides, you're gonna be cutting things close. The lab closes down for the Christmas break."

"My brother and his girlfriend have a gig at the Blue Moon tonight. Let me buy you one of their giant burgers and a beer, at least."

"You know, we probably both kinda stink," Matt smiled.

"Hell, we can just wipe down with wet paper towels. Besides, I've got some clean shirts in my locker, and one is big enough to fit you. If they make us sit on the patio, it's at least nice out tonight."

"You're on, Jane," Matt grinned. He held up the black t-shirt she had thrown him. "Who's Mystik Spiral? Sounds like a Doors cover band that plays brew pubs."

Twenty minutes later, they met at the bar and grill. Jane locked the car that she and Daria shared, and watched as Matt chained his helmet to the front fork and wheel of his Ducati. "Nice ride," she smiled. Damn, this guy cleans up nicely.

"Saves space at the sculpture lab, and nobody asks me to haul anything for them," he grinned.

"Isn't it a kind of expensive bike?" They made their way to the entrance.

"Not really, just kind of uncommon. It was my dad's. I love the sound of that Ducati clutch; nothing else sounds like it. It reminds me of him coming home," he said, the tone suggesting that it wasn't a topic he cared to discuss.

"Sorry," Jane said softly. Crap.

"Hey, it's okay," he said, his sad smile brightening. "Life goes on. Right now, it's taken a little turn for the better; tonight I get to talk to a pretty girl." He looked at the line to get in. "Might not be eating here, though, it's really packed tonight."

"Follow my lead," Jane grinned, taking him by the hand and pulling him along to the front of the line. "We're with the band. Hey, Nate."

"Jane! Damn, this your date? Lucky guy. Go on in, but you might be sitting on the stage wing tonight."

"It's cool, she's Trent's sister," Nate explained to the grumbling cue.

"You might have to pretend to be a roadie later," she smirked, letting go of his hand.

"I like date better, if it's okay with you," he smiled.

Jane turned and paused for a moment. "Sure, you'll do," she laughed. "Just behave yourself and don't hit on the girl, that's my brother's girlfriend and my best friend."

"No problem," he replied.

Just like Nate said, the house was full and they decided to sit on the stage apron. Jane was comfortable with the arrangement, and sat cross legged with their burgers, garlic fries and drinks on one of the road cases. It was actually a really good seat, since they were only a few feet away from Daria and Trent.

Matt's a really good sport about this, mused Jane. And he's cute.

Fortunately, the main PA speakers were aimed over their heads, and the performer's monitor speakers were not too close by their improvised table. The sound levels were quite comfortable. Daria's getting into this, Jane marveled, watching raptly as her normally quiet friend threw her head back and belted out one of her typically startling and compelling lyrics. Trent's eyes were closed as he laid a solid 4/4 foundation for her melodic arpeggio. God, they were into it deep.

She glanced over to see if Matt was enjoying himself; his head was nodding to the beat and his fingertips tapping along on the side of the bottle in his hand. He was laying on his side, propped up on one elbow, relaxed and at ease. Not much chance for conversation in this sound level, but they shared the evening's vibe and went with it. He caught her eye, returning her gaze with an honest smile.

Don't get your hopes up, girl. You know what these damn sculptors are like, they think they're doing you a favor letting a girl into their club.

But God, this one's cool.

And he hadn't played expert to her; he had been there when she actually needed help and laid off when she was into her thing. He'd let her go on past closing tonight; he knew the project deadline and seemed to understand her pacing. She'd have to spend all morning grinding and cleaning things up, and then drilling all those damn holes before she could rivet. The instructor suggested just welding the structure and brazing on cosmetic rivet heads over the plug welds, but she knew what she wanted.

Damn, he's cute.

Gahhh! What time is it?

Stumbling to the bathroom, she managed to find what she hoped was her toothbrush and set to work. As she stepped into the shower, she realized that she had taken one late the night before. Hell.

"Morning, Jane," came Daria's droll greeting. "Slept well, I hope?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jane narrowed her eyes. "I didn't sneak him into my room."

"Sensitive, aren't we?" Daria gave her a little smile as she poured her a cup of strong coffee.

"Seems like a nice guy," Trent said, setting plates in front of the two women.

"Mmmfff." Jane managed to get half the coffee down before deciding to clear things up. "He stayed late to let me finish up at the lab, so I bought him a burger. Big deal."

"He's into you, Janey. I can tell."

"Relationship advice from you? Pass."

"For later," Daria deadpanned, handing her a banana.

"Fucking hilarious, Amiga," Jane laughed, flipping her off as she ran out the door.

This is no place to be if you give a shit about how you look to a guy. On the other hand, he doesn't seem to have a problem with it. She looked over her shoulder and gave the hose a jerk, allowing her to swing the heavy tool into position. She set it down on a grimy stool as she picked up the tongs. "Ready"? she shouted over the din of the compressor. He nodded, hefting the bucking bar behind the rear steel plate. She reached with the tongs, grabbing firmly onto a red hot rivet. She pushed it into place, tapping it home with the end of the tongs. She dropped the hot tool into the forge bucket, and quickly picked up the pneumatic riveter, pushing the nose against the glowing steel. She admired the way his shoulders flexed as he leaned into the bucking bar, and she pulled the trigger. As the tool set hard, she reached up and flexed the taper pin aligning the holes in the plate a foot away. Confident that the holes were still aligned, she pointed up at the hole above and repeated the process with a fresh rivet.

She pulled the pin and methodically jammed it into the chain of holes, making sure that the hot rivets could be pushed in. Satisfied, she confirmed that Matt was still paying attention, and started loading and setting hot steel.

"Damn impressive, Jane," Matt grinned, pulling off his gloves and handing her a bottle of cold water. "Where the hell did you learn how to do that?"

She pulled off her face shield, and dropped onto the bench next to him. "Internet," she said, "and just common sense. I mean, if you know what the tools do, and we know how steel acts when it's hot; it's pretty self-explanatory. And it's not like this thing is cost engineered, it's gotta have a huge structural safety margin. I mean, look at it."

He studied the ten foot tall artifact in front of him. Masterfully conceived, meticulously constructed. Defiance, she called it.

I will not yield, it said. That was the meaning that the artist had encoded into the form and attitude of the metal.

Maybe it wasn't her intention, but it was a self-portrait in steel plate and beam.

He looked again at this remarkable woman. An undergraduate; ignoring the half-baked work around her, reveling in the resources available to her. A gantry crane. Scrap steel, pallets of it. Forklift. Heavy industrial metalworking tools. None of the old hot glue gun and masking tape shit, she was in her element, and she was fearless.

"Same deal, Matt."

"You don't have to, you know. I liked working with you. It's actually a real pleasure watching how you figure things out on the fly."

"I appreciate you sticking this out with me. I know you don't have to."

"I'd ask if I could call this a date, but I don't want you to feel that you have to go along with it," he said casually.

There was something about his posture and distracted gaze, though, that made it clear to Jane that he was serious.

The silence went on a beat longer than it should as she made up her mind.

"Sure, but I'm still paying for dinner. I brought you another shirt, just in case."

"I washed the shirt you loaned me," he said, opening his locker and pulling it out, on a hanger.

"You ironed it?

"Well, I didn't want you to think I was a slob, but in the interest of full disclosure, I really am. Not sure about that starch job, though, it might have been a bad idea."

"Wait, you care about what I think? What kind of sculptor are you?"

"Would you prefer a misogynistic jerk?" He laughed joylessly. "We're not all the same, you know."

"Hey," Jane said quietly after a moment. "I was kidding. I didn't intend to hit any nerves. Look, maybe-" Hell. Why am I apologizing? I didn't do anything.

"Jane? You're home early. I thought you were going to take Matt out somewhere," Daria said, looking up from her laptop.

"Change of plans," Jane mumbled, dropping her backpack in the kitchen, and opening the refrigerator.

"There's meatloaf in that covered dish, and some stir-fry chicken with veggies in the plastic container."

"Thought my brother was done with this non-alcoholic beer," Jane muttered, scowling at the bottle in her hand. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Not sure. Maybe checking out a band, or hanging out with the guys from work. We didn't have any plans, so he's on his own tonight. I wanted some time to write, and I got a lot done already." She saved and closed her folder, and closed up her computer.

"You don't have to stop on my account."

"Bull." Daria rummaged in the pantry and found a bottle of Merlot. "Can you deal with a red?" She pulled the cork and took a sniff. "Not vinegar. Excellent."

"Thanks, Daria," Jane sighed, taking the glass.

"To friendship," Daria said quietly, gently touching her glass to Jane's. "I think it's my turn to pull your head out of your ass."

"Hi, Matt? This is Daria, Jane's friend. We're at home, and I stole her phone. She's in the bathroom. We're kinda plastered, and I think you need to come over and talk some sense into her. She really likes you and she's being stup-"

"HEY!" Jane scowled. What do you think-"

Daria snatched the phone back and ran off, locking the door behind her.

"God dammit, Daria, what the hell are you doing?"

There was the sound of a key in the front door.

"Hey, Janey, what's going on?"

"Your girlfriend is getting even with me. I think she's trying to patch things up with Matt and I."

"I didn't know you guys were dating."

"We're not. I guess I kinda dumped him before we started."

The bathroom door opened, and Daria stepped out. She handed Jane her phone. "Jeez, give the guy a chance at least. If it doesn't work out, Trent and I will still be here for you. What would be so terrible about finding somebody?"

Jane said nothing for a long moment.

Sure, it's fun at first, and then when you get invested, yeah, that's when you just know it's gonna fucking hurt like a sonofabitch.

"I like things the way they are. I like the guy you're sleeping with. I like you happy. I don't need things to change."

"Things do change. You can get blindsided by change, or have a say in it."

"I don't need to find someone and have them walk away." I'm not gonna get dumped again.

"Janey, when you and Daria became friends, you grew. You opened up to another person, and sometimes it wasn't easy. But can you say you would be better off had you two not met?"

"Of course not, you dope, and you know it. If Daria and I were both gay, it would have been perfect. As it is, I get to have my cake and eat it too. Friend and family both. Another person…what would happen? If I fall for somebody else, maybe I'll move out. Careers factor in, and maybe we'd have to move to another city or even another country. Why do things have to change? I like things the way they are."

"I don't get it, Janey. It's not like he's the first guy that got your attention." Trent pulled up a chair. "Oh…yeah, he is pretty cool."

"Jane, what happens after we both graduate? One thing for sure, things will change. How did we wind up here, in this situation that you like so much? Things changed after we were done with high school, and we moved out of Lawndale. Things got better, then worse, then better again. But we moved forward, and here we are."

Easy for you to say, boyfriend steal- aw, crap, what's wrong with me?

"Take a chance, Janey." Trent took Daria's hand. "Follow your own advice."

There was a long, quiet moment.

From off in the distance came the distinctive sound of a Ducati motorcycle's dry clutch.