Author's Note: I've got half a mind to make Alex the eventual villain of this series, and I just get even more sure of this with every new romance that appears...time to go against the grain, maybe?
p.s.: It's time for the cuteness to start sneaking into the story...are you ready?
12
It was almost like one of those State-made soap operas, the way everything played out next.
On one side of the door was Madge of the Purple Wig, her rainbow-painted eyes narrowed in suspicion over Georgina's sudden appearance. I could already tell that she didn't approve of me bringing another devotchka into the mix, especially since she'd very nearly gotten a bit of pol from me a few nights ago. I could also tell that I didn't much care what she thought about me or what I did, because she just wasn't that important to me now that the milk-plus had worn off. It was the two people on the other side of the door that concerned me now. First and foremost, there was Georgina herself, who looked as though she wanted to figure out if Madge was either a relative of mine or some devotchka on the side.
"Er...hello there?"
I felt a stab of remorse as I heard her try to be gracious to Madge, only to glance past her and stare at me with both eyebrows raised.
"We didn't expect anyone else to be here at this hour besides Pete and his family...are we interrupting anything?"
"Not at all," I interjected, speaking up before Madge said something rash and drove a wedge between us.
"Madge here took me by surprise, too. I was waiting for you and Greg when she popped in out of nowhere and jumped onto my bed."
I saw her start to pout right then and there, but I felt no need to comfort her. There was too much annoyance and revulsion floating around in my rasoodock for that. I wasn't wandering the streets by myself any more, and neither had I just entered the Korova for another nightly fix. I would have to learn to act a bit differently because of this, and for that matter, so would she.
"You don't mind if we come in and sit for a moment, then?" Greg asked me, wordlessly questioning my intentions with just one look. "Are you sure you don't want some time alone with Madge first, and have us come back later?"
"Try the other way around," I said flatly, glaring at Madge and then at the door in turn. "I'll see you now and I'll see her later. Is that all right with you?"
Madge couldn't object to me or my words in any way, because I'd already made my decision on what to do this morning. Instead, she could only glare at me briefly; then go on through that open door without a word, purposefully shoving Georgina out of the way as she disappeared into the hallway.
"Well, well...that most certainly was odd."
Georgina watched the doorway long after Madge had gone, almost as though she expected her to come back and start wreaking some kind of havoc. I wished I could have left my bed and walked over to comfort her, but just as I had done with Em, I had to make sure I didn't give her my cold, either. That didn't stop me from imagining that I'd picked up a small wooden pole and started hitting myself over the head with it, though.
"I don't know her all that well," I almost managed to confess, until a sudden burst of coughing interrupted my words. That was something I had hoped would not happen until tomorrow, yet because I was already weak and sick to begin with, it snuck up on me just as surely as the cold that spawned it. It was then that I felt just a tiny bit worthless, because I had wanted to have a real, full-length conversation with Georgina and Greg today. However, thanks to my own stupid and bothersome health, I would instead have to deal with this other unwelcome visitor interrupting me every few minutes or so as I tried to speak. Choodessny.
"I'll get you some water," Georgina offered straightaway, standing up and walking towards the bathroom.
"I'm okay, I'm okay, see if Greg wants any," I tried to protest, but Greg just shook his head on the spot.
"I'm not thirsty," he answered, backing up a step or two on purpose. "And all medical training aside, I'm told water helps loosen up the phlegm inside you. Why not give it a try?"
Maybe it was just my cold making me think such things, but after hearing all that, I started to wonder just what was it Greg had on his mind lately. How was it that he was so bent on getting me into the back seat with Georgina in the first place? How was it that he'd become so interested in letting her get some water for me? I had to think that over for a moment as a fresh, new glass of water was soon brought up to my lips.
"There you go. Try not to drink it too fast, you might choke."
I appreciated that Georgina didn't think twice about treating me well, but at the same time, I had a feeling that choking just might have been the least of my problems. There was something much more important—or should I say, much more dangerous—happening right in front of me, and no thanks to my own curiosity. Some strange, unknown force of nature was making me do things I wouldn't have normally done, like slip my hand down over Georgina's own as I took sip after sip of water.
I wouldn't cry this time, of course, because that moment of sadness had come and gone. What I would do—and did do—was trace the shape of her fingers, feel the smoothness of the back of her hand, wonder to myself if she would hold onto it until I'd finished the last drop. Oh, yes, I was curious about this devotchka, and so far not a single problem had come up to make me doubt myself...not like last time.
'Last time' was a dead zone of black, white, and purple, a place where only the most insane of individuals could and would ever hope to survive. 'Last time' was having to watch everything I had ever hoped to be and nothing I would ever be show itself off in spades, because its sole owner already understood this, and loved to torment me with it to guarantee that I would never run away from him.
'Last time' was some giant pit out of which I thought there would be no exit. 'Last time' was the place where my self-styled master and commander would taunt me with a countless string of female followers, each and every one there to constantly tell him how wonderful he looked, how wonderful he acted, how wonderful he dressed, and so on and so forth, until the night I returned home to my silent flat, stared at myself in the mirror, and broke down in tears because I knew none of those devotchkas would ever think of me the same way as they did my leader.
Last time, I had been a nobody, a silent figure as still as the Korova Milkbar's furniture who tried to disappear into the walls every time he entered. Last time, I had hated everything about myself, and no thanks to his rotten influence—my clothes, my eyes, my voice, my hair...even my own face. But this time? Simple. This time was a lot, lot different.
Pete...
This Georgina, this Gigi-girl, could already have had her pick of three other malchicks, one of which was standing in the same room as she stood...and yet, each time, she made no move towards any of them. Instead, it looked as though she just might have eyes for nobody else but me.
Why was I suddenly so interesting to her?
I had no interesting job like the others obviously must have had. I couldn't do anything interesting right now besides feel sick, look tired, drink all sorts of fluids, and cough one time too many. For all I knew, I could have infected her and Greg together just by coughing out loud, or else by touching her hand. So...what was it about me that had caught her attention so well, and held it there?
Pete...?
"Uhhwaah...?"
"Pete? Pete, is everything okay?"
I snapped back to reality, where I soon realized I had drank every drop of water and then gone on sucking air until Georgina spoke up to get my attention. To make matters a tiny bit worse, Greg was still there sitting in the background, but not without enjoying a small chuckle at the odd way I had zoned out.
"Uh...yes?"
I blushed for what must have been the third time since I met them both, after which I wished that I had not left my old maskie behind me someplace outside these walls. A pity, I could have used it to hide my face until I felt myself go back to normal, or else not looked as flushed and red as I must have looked here and now.
On the other hand...there had to be a perfectly good reason why I was blushing so much in the first place. It wasn't because I felt overheated or feverish—and thank goodness for that, because that would have made my health so much worse—but rather, because something in my mind kept clicking at the sight of this little group. Was it because they seemed to be so much nicer than all the other shaikas I had encountered in the past? Or was it the idea of them looking after me so closely, and not expecting any payment or 'special favors' in return...?
"Silly! You zoned out just as you were drinking your water...what's on your mind that's made you so distracted?"
Then I happened to look back into her eyes, those eyes that reminded me of exotic wood and fresh gingerbread and darkening night skies, and that was when my heartbeat sped up without any warning. Could this be? Was this even possible? Could this turn out to be exactly what I thought it was? Could someone like me actually feel affection for someone like her?
"I think...I think it's you."
No Nadsat I had ever viddied in the past or the present had ever thought about this or ever felt this, not even the malchicks in my own shaika. Either they and the devotchkas had amused themselves for a time by sharing some pol and then forgetting all about the other, or else the malchicks alone had forced themselves between the devotchkas' legs and taken their pleasure without offering anything pleasurable back to them as compensation or consolation.
"You think it's me?"
"Yeah...?"
And so...how could it be that I, the last malchick that any devotchka would ever notice, let alone talk to or converse with, could suddenly feel so strongly about a dama that he barely knew? How could it be that she might feel the same way about me, even though she knew next to nothing about me and made no move to ask the necessary questions of me to protect herself?
"I wish I could hug you again," she admitted, smiling weakly. "I'd try to hold on until I knew you were well..."
I wish you could, too! We'd both feel loads better then, wouldn't we?
"I'm sorry I'm so ill," I mumbled, wishing once again that I could hide or, better yet, that she could at least read my mind so that she could hear what I felt too nervous to say out loud.
"If I wasn't coughing so bad right now, I'd want to do the same and not think twice about it."
I couldn't figure this all out just yet, because I was still so very weak, and quite a ways away from getting over my cold. I would have to wait and watch just as easily as Greg and the others were watching and waiting for me. I could still feel this presence, though, this connection between me and
Georgina that I wanted so badly to explore, and all because of something important that I had remembered from my dream—that princess' hair was red as Georgina's was red.
"Don't worry about that now. We can always take a rain check on that, right?"
And then go home and hug each other once they let me out of this hospital? You have no idea...
"Right right."
Was that nothing more than my mind keeping a note on her while I slept? Was that something that could become a serious omen later on, including bringing me the one future I might have never expected for myself? I would have to see what happened, oh yes. I would have to hold onto Georgina just a little, and so then try to figure out if she was safe enough around me before I decided to take anything further.
In the meantime, as I waited for my next hot cup of tea and maybe also my next dose of cold medicine, I would try starting a conversation and see how long I could make it last.
"Greg...?"
"Hmm?"
"Could I ask you a question?"
"Of course! Ask away."
"What do you know about getting a job?"
Additional A/N: I decided to raise my page count to five, as a clear reflection of how Greg's group of four is slowly increasing to five. Let me know what you think,
Weasley
