Anne
"Mark, coffee's ready!" I called from the kitchen. Even though it was about nine o'clock in the evening, we always found time for coffee. Especially at the wrong times of day.
"I need to call my mom back and reassure her that I'm not sick. It's been three days, she's probably shitting bricks. " He took a deep breath and punched her number into the phone. "Hi, Mom. It's Mark."
Even from my spot by the table, I could hear her squawking at Mark all the way from Scarsdale.
"No, Mom. I'm not sick. My friend Anne had a bad allergic reaction to some prescription and I took her to the hospital. She's not my girlfriend. I don't need to justify my relationships to you. Yeah, maybe. We'll see. Bye." He slammed the phone down. "She wants you to come visit this weekend. Cindy and the kids are coming down too and I guess she thought that was an incentive."
I handed him a cup of coffee and sat down on the threadbare couch next to him. "Isn't it a bit early for me to be meeting your parents? We're just…" I trailed off.
"I know what you mean. We're together but not together. I've only taken you on one real date." Mark said, sipping the scalding liquid.
"It's hot!"
He grimaced. "I know."
"Hey Mark? I have a question." I tugged at a loose thread in my jeans.
"Shoot." He set the cup down on a milk crate and turned towards me.
"I know that you and Maureen have a… history together. But from what Roger's told me, she's quite the sexpot. How did you, I mean, why didn't you two… you know."
"Have sex?" He sighed, obviously knowing that the question would have to be answered sooner or later. "We had been together for a couple of months, I think it was eight or nine. Basically, we'd done everything but. And we were fooling around one night and this close to actually doing it, and I mean half-naked-reaching-for-the-condoms close, and she just blurts out that she thinks she may be a lesbian."
"Must've totally killed the mood," I laughed. "But Roger said that she broke your heart."
He nodded, looking a little more than melancholy. "That she did. But after we all got to know Joanne, I guess I got over her."
"You only guess?" I asked, shooting him a quizzical look.
"It's complicated." Mark shifted uncomfortably. "Sure, getting over a girlfriend is easy. But coming to terms with the fact that she left you for another woman? That's fucked up."
I scooted down the couch and he pulled me onto his lap, taking care not to spill my coffee over the both of us.
"The things that went through my mind those first few days after were shitty. It was a blow to my masculinity. Roger always said that regardless of why your significant other leaves, it's always going to make you feel insecure about yourself and your abilities."
"Mark," I said, making sure he was looking at me. "I'm not going to be able to knock your abilities until we actually do anything so you're safe from criticism for the time being."
I grabbed the back of his head and pulled his face to mine; giving him what I hoped was a masculinity-reassuring kiss.
He smiled against my lips and ran his fingers through my hair, gently tugging the elastic out of it and playing with the curls. Mark pulled away a few minutes later, his chest heaving and breathing a little heavier than I expected. "What's your middle name?"
"What kind of question is that?" I laughed, cupping his face in my hands.
"I've always thought it's nice to know someone's middle name before they stick their tongue halfway down my throat."
"Well it's Catherine. How about you?"
"Elijah. But Catherine? That's so boring when your name is just Anne." His hands, which had previously been resting on my hips were now waving around madly as he spoke.
"Anne is short for Anastasia. I hate it."
"Why not Stacy? Or Anna?" He asked, wrapping a curl around his finger.
"Because I liked Anne. It was sophisticated and it grows with me." I replied, hoping that a kiss would stop the interrogation.
Mark jerked his head away from me as the door to the loft slammed.
"Mark, if your girlfriend is going to straddle you, can you not do it in a place where everyone can see it?" Roger's voice interrupted us.
Mark groaned quietly and dropped his head back. "Fuck off, Roger." He straightened out again and grabbed my hand. "It's times like these I wish I didn't have roommates."
"Want to spend the rest of the evening at my place? We can watch movies and make popcorn and shit." I asked.
"That'd be great." He helped me into my coat and grabbed his own from the closet. We trudged down the four floors ready to brave the weather and city streets past dark.
After a couple of minutes in the snow, I was shivering. "What's the purpose of a coat if it doesn't keep you warm?" I muttered.
Mark laughed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "So you have to be taught the fine art of buying a coat that will outlast a New England winter."
I nodded and rested my head against the worn shoulder of his coat. "I'm glad I only live a couple blocks away. It would really suck otherwise." I fumbled around with my keys and the four locks once we got to my door. Mark gave me a funny look. "No doorman, you know? It was the one condition my dad set."
"Avenue B isn't the safest place to live." He shrugged and helped me push the heavy door open.
"Home, sweet home." I tossed my keys and jacket onto the counter. "I'll give you the not-so-grand tour in a minute. I really, really have to go to the bathroom.
He nodded and put his coat next to mine.
"Just make yourself at home. The coffee pot is on the counter and the coffee is in the freezer if you want to make a fresh pot." I added, closing the bathroom door behind me. When I was washing up, I heard footsteps going down the hall. I opened the door, water still dripping off my hands, to see Mark. He had a devious smirk on his face, despite being caught red handed.
"Can I see your room?" Mark asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Sure, you perv. I saw yours, it's only fair." I grabbed a hand towel and guided Mark into my room.
"A bed, a dresser, and some bookshelves. That's it?" He asked, lifting up a few of the pillows.
"What were you expecting? Leather, lace, and chains?" I laughed.
"I don't know..." Mark shrugged. "This just isn't the way I pictured your room being. It's really boring. No offense." He added as he flopped down onto the bed. "Ooh, your blanket and pillows are down? We're spending a lot more time here from
"I'm a CPA, what do you expect?" I smiled and pulled open my closet. "I'm changing into something more comfortable than this."
Mark raised his eyebrows at me and the smirk returned once again. "More comfortable, eh?"
"Pajamas, Mark." I shook my head. "Just pajamas. Not everything is like in the movies, or at least the sick one that's always running through your mind." I pulled my shirt off and tossed it into the laundry bin and rummaged around my closet for a shirt to wear.
"Um… I'll, uh, go wait in the other room." Mark stammered, blushing a brilliant red.
I rolled my eyes. "You would've seen me half-naked eventually. Let's just cross this bridge now that we're at it." My jeans joined my shirt and I pulled on a pair of flannel bottoms and a tank top.
"Movies are in the bottom drawer of the TV stand. How about you pick one and I'll make popcorn?" I suggested, shooing Mark away from my bureau.
More like away from my underwear.
"As long as there's something other than cheesy romantic comedies, I'm sure I'll find something."
He opened the cupboard as I put the popcorn in the microwave. When it finished, I sat down on the couch next to him to see what he picked.
"I ended up going with Rear Window." He said. "I'm a sucker for the way Hitchcock aligned his shots."
I offered him some popcorn as the movie began.
"Mark, you need to get home." I said against his lips, trying to squirm away from him.
"It's not even midnight." He insisted, snaking his hand back up my tank top and firmly attaching his lips on mine.
My struggle was in vain so I just gave in and ran my fingers through his hair. Mark tugged at the hem and I helped him pull it off. We continued for a few more minutes, undoing and removing select pieces of clothing. "Do you want to go to my room?"
He nodded and we scrambled off of the couch and into my room.
I pulled him onto my bed with me, fumbling with his glasses.
"Mmm… Anne?" He asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
"Yeah?" I replied, trying to catch my breath.
"If we're going to go to my parents' house this weekend, sex is out of the question." He pushed some hair off of my face and kissed me. "You'll be sore and cranky and my mom would wonder why you couldn't sit still."
"Who said we were going to Scarsdale?" I asked, wiggling out from under him. "And how do you know so much about sex? You're supposed to be a virgin!"
"Maureen subscribed to Cosmopolitan and I'd flip through when she was getting ready." Even in the dim lighting, I could tell he was blushing. "It's really trashy."
"Do you want to sleep here or go back to your place?" I asked, snuggling into him. Despite my state of undress, Mark had managed to keep both his sweater and oxford on.
"You have down pillows and heat. Do I need to say more?" He asked, pulling the comforter around us. "Goodnight."
I woke up to the smell of something sweet coming from the kitchen and the occasional clunk of a pan.
"You can cook?" I asked, shuffling into the kitchen.
"Roger is an adult, but he's not fully functioning. And Mimi would probably burn the place down if she tried to make anything but Jell-o. So that leaves me to either waste money on takeout or cook."
"You made cinnamon buns!" I exclaimed. "I think I'll keep you."
"So about Scarsdale…" He began, handing me a cup of juice. "You don't have to come. I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you into anything. But it would be nice to not have to brace my mom alone."
"I'm not doing anything this weekend. But what are we going to tell her? I know my dad wouldn't be too happy if I brought home some guy I'd been dating for less than a month. I don't want her to get the wrong impression of me…"
"Anne, the last girl I took home was Maureen. She was a shiksa, you're Jewish. You're intelligent and beautiful and I'm sure my mom is going to love you." He insisted, offering a plate of bacon.
"Bacon! Are you trying to sway my decision with my favorite foods?" I asked with a laugh.
"Only if it's working." Mark grinned.
I nodded. "Alright, I'll go. But I'm not making any promises as to whether or not she can expect Jewish grandbabies in less than a year. No way!"
He kissed me across the table. "I wouldn't even put it past you."
I finished the two most dramatic chapters of the story yet. Too bad they're the final two and I haven't written what goes in between them. It just happens to be one of those things that I'll read afterwards and think "Holy hell! I wrote that?" I can't wait to put it up because I think everyone will be really, really surprised. It's a big, shocking chapter with a big, even more shocking follow up.
So this chapter was a lot of Mark and Anne fluff. Get over it, they're cute. Don't you enjoy seeing Mark happy? Because I do. Mark will be happier after he gets some much-needed ass as well. Up next: Anne and Mark go to Scarscale and meet Mama Cohen. Oy, this should be quite fun.
L.M. Ward: Mark and Anne are a pretty awkward couple. They blush a lot. And I like to write Roger as a little more mature than he's usually given credit for. He's not twelve, people! I think I'm writing my dream man into my Mark. Sad, but true.
starsinthesky: I made Mark a virgin for a reason, explained in this chapter. In my twisted mind that's always how I ended up seeing it happen. Maureen's wandering eyes are caught by Mark so she tries to seduce him and then blurts out that she's gay. Oops!
Harper's Pixie: I'm out to prove that you can write RENTfic that's not depressing and still enjoyable! So Anne will not be dying. That goes for Roger, Mimi and the rest of the cast. I'd feel guilty killing off poor Mark's soulmate, lonely boy.
countrybutterfy: What do you mean by "wise"? Wise as in smartass or intelligent? And my Roger isn't violent. Post-drug Roger is nice and doesn't hit poor Mark for disturbing his beauty sleep. And remember- there's not enough in the loft to be thrown that would result in a loss of limb. But thanks for the constructive criticism, quas-negative reviews are sometimes better than positive ones because they allow you to see where your weaknesses are.
It would really be nice to have 35 reviews when I post Chapter 8. That's only six more than I have right now. So please, tell me what you like and dislike.