Chapter 6: Between the Good and Bad

(Aisha)

"What are you doing here?" Roderick and I both asked in unison as we met. "I asked you first. No, I asked you first. Stop! No, you stop!"

I sighed. "Look, let's not reenact a scene from Will & Grace," I said. "I'm here for the exhibit."

"Me, too," Roderick said.

"So, you're not following me?" I asked, feeling stupid.

"No," Roderick said, sounding like he felt the same way I did. "And you're not following me?"

"No," I answered.

"Because you don't like me," Roderick said.

"Right," I said. "And you don't like me."

"Right," he said.

"And we don't want to have anything to do with each other."

"That sounds right."

"So, we can just walk around the exhibit and pretend that this train wreck didn't happen?"

"That sounds like a good plan."

"Good."

"Good."

I turned my back to him and looked at the model of a small ship.

"You watch Will & Grace?" Roderick said, materializing next to me.

"When I'm not busy," I answered.

"Me, too," Roderick said. "It's a funny show."

"Yeah, it is," I said.

I moved back over to the mannequin of Amneris. That was a little weird, I thought.

"So, where do you live?" Roderick asked.

"What?" I said.

"Where do you live?" Roderick repeated.

"Wait a minute," I said. "You don't like me. Why are you talking to me let alone asking me where I live?"

"Curiosity?" Roderick said.

I rolled my eyes andshook my head. He seemed like less of an ass and more like an insecure weirdo.

"I don't know why I asked, okay?" Roderick said, his voice getting edgy. "I was just trying to be nice, but you don't want that so I'll just stop talking to you."

"Fine," I said.

"Fine."

I walked back over to the tomb and looked at it for a while, but then some more verbal vomit came out.

"I live on the West side," I blurted.

Roderick turned around and walked towards me.

"Yeah?" He said. "What street?"

"Central park drive," I replied.

"Must be nice to live there," Roderick said.

"Yeah, it is," I said.

An awkward silence passed between us so I looked over at the tomb again. It looked so familiar. I wonder……..

"Um, do you want to go for a walk or something?" Roderick asked.

"We're in a museum," I said. "We're already taking a walk."

"I meant outside," Roderick chuckled.

"Sure," I said. "I'd been here for two hours already."

"Really?" Roderick said. "Me, too."

Things didn't seem so weird with Roderick. He actually seemed nice. It was like meeting another guy. It almost reminded me of………….

"Where are you from?"

"Ikaita. It's a village near-"

"Near the Second Cataract. The river's an entirely different color there."

I shook my head and walked outside with Roderick. I wasn't going to let dialogue frommy subconscious afternoon because right now I was enjoying myself. Roderick suddenly stopped at a pretzel vender.

"You want one?" he asked.

I was actually hungry. I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast because I was so excited about the exhibit.

"Sure," I said, walking up to the vender. "I skipped lunch."

"Two, please," Roderick said to the vender.

"You must be very hungry," I said, getting out my wallet.

"One's for you, Blondie," Roderick said.

I almost dropped my purse into the road. Roderick was buying me a pretzel? He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would spend a penny on anyone but himself. What are you getting so shocked about? A voice in my head said. He's a guy. This is what guys do. Well, nice guys at least.

"You don't have to do that," I said. "I can buy my own."

"It's the least I can do after the way I treated you the other night," Roderick said.

I opened my mouth to protest, but then I closed it. Roderick did have a point. He did owe me. He handed me the pretzel and we continued our walk.

"I'm sorry about the other night," Roderick said.

"It's okay," I said, biting into my pretzel.

"Really?"

"No, but I didn't want to seem like a bitch."

"Well, I am sorry."

"Me, too."

"What did you do?"

"I was a bitch."

"I'll forgive you if you forgive me."

"Done."

That felt refreshing. It was nice to have a clean slate with this guy. Especially, since he was being nice to me.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked.

"Sure," Roderick answered.

"Why did you call me Blondie?"

"I was referring to you as a dumb blonde."

"Oh. But, it doesn't work."

"Why?"

"First of all I'm not blonde. I have black hair."

"So?"

"Second of all it's offensive to blondes like Amy and you."

"I see what you mean. My jokes sucks, huh?"

"It has potential."

(Roderick)

Aisha and I talked for a very long time. We basically covered every topic known to man from what cliques we belonged to in high school to where we grew up to our favorite music.

"So, can I ask you a question?" Aisha asked.

"Sure," I answered.

"Do you like your job?" Aisha asked.

I didn't even need to think about whether or not I wanted to answer. All the things that I wanted to say about my job came tumbling out of my mouth.

"Seriously, no," I ranted. "I hate it. I work late hours from nine to sometimes four o'clock in the morning. My boss is a sadist. She's always coming up with new ways to torture me. I never see my family anymore. I have a sister who lives across the street from me and I never see her. I can't even have my own personal life because I'm always working. Insurance wasn't even my major."

"What was your major?" Aisha asked.

"I was a music major," I answered.

"You wanted to be a singer."

"Actually, no. I wanted to be a songwriter. I'm more of a 'behind-the-scenes' kind of guy."

"So, why don't you quit your job?"

"Because even though my boss is a sadist, she pays me a huge salary. I actually have enough money to buy a recording studio."

"So, let me get this straight. If it came down to choosing between a huge paycheck and quitting your job to get away from your sadistic boss and have a personal life, see your family, and have a career doing something you love, you would pick the paycheck?"

"Well…….yeah."

"Oh, yeah, you really have your priorities in order."

I was taken aback. I didn't expect Aisha to respond that way. I thought she would understand.

"A songwriter doesn't earn as much money," I protested. "I need to makea living and I can't do that while being a songwriter."

"Poor baby," Aisha said. "'Oh, my life is horrible, but it's all worth sacrificing for a shit load of money and a gigantic office with it's own bathroom.'"

Aisha was going to far. She was making me sound like an egotistic jackass. She had no right to do that.

"Oh, and your life is better?" I retorted. "Staying cooped up in your apartment and only leaving to buy grocesseries and to teach a class for a bunch of kids? As far as I know, you don't have a personal life either."

Aisha stepped in front of me and looked me straight in the eyes. The look on her face was scaring me. I thought her eyes were going to turn red and she was going to talk in a demonic voice or she would use her telekinesis to kill me like in Carrie.

"Maybe I don't have a personal life," she said, angrily. "But, I love painting. I'm spending my life doing something I love and I'm making a living. I'm not wasting my life doing something I hate like you."

"That's not fair!" I said.

"Oh, it's fair," she fired back. "Stay in your office. Waste your life away. Don't see your family. Fill your tub with money and sit in it naked.But, when you want to complain about your job, don't even call me because this is one person that you're not going to get any sympathy from!"

With those last words she turned on her heel and walked away.

"AT LEAST I'M NOT SOME BITCH WHO NEEDS TO KEEP HERTRAP SHUT BECAUSE NO ONE CARES ABOUT HERGODDAMNOPINIONS!"

"BITE ME!" Aisha shouted without turning around and giving me the finger.

I angrily turned around and went home.

Who did she think she was bitching at me like that? She wouldn't understand. Not everyone can do what they love, I thought, angrily. But, her parting sentence kind of sounded like……..

"You go too far."

"No! You go too far. If you don't like your fate, change it. You are your own master there are no shackles on you. So, don't expect any pity or understanding from this humble palace slave."

Why the hell was I thinking about dialogue from my stupid dream? I didn't even want to think about it. I didn't want to think about Aisha either. I guess I was right about her, I thought. She really is a bitch. But, somehow in the back of my mind I kept thinking she was right.

To Be Continued……..

A/N: It'll get better, but the chapter sucks on a count of writer's block. More soon.