"Hey mom", I answer the phone, a giant smile on my face as Callie feeds me a spoon with a little taste of the pasta sauce she is currently cooking. We have been back from our mini vacation for about two weeks now, but honestly, it does not feel like our vacation ever ended – at least not when we are home. The new house is amazing! The huge backyard has this amazing pool for me to swim some laps in without being done after three strokes and the flowers the previous owners have planted are still blooming beautifully everywhere, making it look like swimmingin paradise. My girlfriend loves her new kitchen and all the space she has to work with. One of the rooms was turned into an office for Callie where she could read scripts and compose music, and I have a little nook in a different area with a desk I can write on – although I told the brunette numerous times that I am just fine writing on the couch or at the dining table, I appreciate the quietness I can have when sitting at my desk. We are fully moved in and I cannot count the amount of pictures I have sent to Teds and my parents, hoping that the pictures of the guest rooms would convince them to visit soon. "What's up?", I ask after swallowing the very hot, but very delicious tomato sauce.
"Oh, I am just calling to see how everything is going. I figured you'll be starting school in a few of days and must be busy getting everything ready. Your father and I, we just miss having you around, the house is awfully quiet without you", my mother confesses. It was the same when I was traveling the better part of Europe for two years. Back then, she would use at least every other phone call to ask when I was coming home.
I tab the screen of my phone to enable the speaker so Callie could listen. "We are good, mom. Really good. I put you on speaker, Callie is making dinner, it's pasta night – my favorite! Classes don't start for another three weeks and I have already finished reading three out of the four books required at the beginning of the semester. Apparently, one of the professors is big on having at least one student from each year in kind of like a workshop group setting, I'm thinking about applying, but am waiting to see if it will be a thing next year. You and dad should come visit soon, so I can show you everything before it gets hectic." Turning towards me and away from the stove for a moment, Callie nods and gives me a warm smile before returning her attention to the task at hand. I watch her add some freshly chopped basil and oregano leaves to the sauce and cannot help but smile myself, certain that she Latina would make an amazing chef if she did not want to be a singer or actress anymore.
"Arizona, that sounds like a wonderful idea. I could use some time in the sun and by the pool. Let me talk to your father about this and I'll get back to you in a couple of days. I'm sure he'll be just as excited. "
Momma's swooning over the idea made me happy. I want them to know that, even though Callie is a big deal hot shot superstar, they are always welcome to stay with us. Just as my girlfriend pointed out before, this is our place and if I want to invite people over, I can. Naturally, I would not invite just everyone over, only people that I can trust will step foot into this home – but my parents and Teddy will always be welcome here. "How are you and dad?"
"We are good, honey. Your father is out running some errands – or so he says, 'cause I have no clue what he is up to. The other day, I was out to buy new seeds to plant in the fall. I am finally getting that backyard full of flowerbeds that I always wanted but could never have with you and Timmy running around like wild monkeys when you were younger", she laughs. "The pictures you sent made me realize I can finally do it."
The memories I have of my brother and me running zigzag in the backyard are indeed wild. He would chase me with a loaded toy water gun and I would try to dodge his shots. The gun he had was nothing compared to the big toys you can get your hands on these days, but I do remember getting pretty soaked every once in a while. "Yeah, I remember. Timmy was the wild one, though. I am completely innocent."
We chat for a little longer until Callie lets me know that the food is finally ready. I say bye to my mom, tell her to give dad a hug from me and that we will talk again soon to finalize the plans for their visit. I know I am not that far away from home – it's only a plane ride away – but talking to my mom always make me feel better and it takes away a little of the homesickness. It's not that I want to move back, because I don't. I just wish I had a friend or two around, you know?
"You did not tell me you're thinking about applying to the professor's workshop group", the brunette starts the conversation as we sit down at the dining table, the delightful smell of the pasta sauce filling my nose as I sprinkle some Parmesan cheese over the small pile of food. "I think it is a great idea", she adds before I even need to explain my thought process. "Academically speaking, definitely, but it might also be an opportunity for you to make new friends."
Looking up, our eyes meet and I can see the sincerity in Callie dark brown orbs. "You really think so?" I would like to have friends here, too. "You don't think it could be too much?" The prospect of loading too much on my own schedule is the one thing holding me back. I mean, I can't apply or sign up for anything that is not yet announced, but in my head, a heavy workload holding me back. Yeah, you don't want to be buried under books, Arizona. "It could be a lot of work added to my plate, and I still want to have time that I can spend with you. I also don't want to drop out of the workshop, that leaves a bad impression on the professor."
Callie's hand reaches out towards me and she places her palm over my arm. "You are very smart, Arizona. I am pretty confident that you can handle it, but if you want to see how much of a workload your new classes really entail and apply next semester instead, it will still be just as great of an idea then." Her fingers are gently stroking the skin of my forearm, her gaze never leaving mine. "I mean it."
"Thank you." Her reassurance is all that I need. If I wasn't already in love with her, the constant support and affirmation of my decisions would make me fall in love with her indefinitely. Leaning over the corner of the table for a chaste kiss over the corner that lasts maybe two seconds, I finally have a bite of the food, closing my eyes and moaning as it touches my taste buds. "This is really good. Thank you for cooking, Calliope." I do not need a five-star dinner every day, not even every week – probably not even every month. That's because you enjoy pizza way too much, A. Is it nice to go out and eat luscious food, sure! But I also enjoy my girlfriend's cooking and I most nights I would choose staying in over going to a restaurant. We eat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying both, the food and the company. "Have you given the scripts that Ashley handed to you any thoughts?", I wonder, knowing that she has spent a lot of her time on her reading into new possible movies.
Swallowing the food and having a sip of wine after, Callie replies, "I have. There is only one that I am actually interested in, but it is the one where I have to go through an audition. I don't mind going to auditions, that is kind of part of the job, but there is always the chance of them choosing somebody else over me. The other two are safe bets, according to Ashley because the producers reached out to her, they want me."
I would not even know how to make that choice. "Can you tell me what the scripts are about, or is that all confidential and under top notch security?", I tease. Callie has been pretty open about her work projects, whether it is about her movies or about her music and her writing process – the latter is highly fascinating, might I add. "Unless you don't want to until you made a decision. That is okay, too."
Cocking her head to the left, brown eyes seem to bore right into my soul. I have zero guesses about what is going on inside that beautiful head. "I cannot tell you the titles, as I only got working titles, but I can give you the brief plot. The one I absolutely don't want to do is a small role, I'd play the mother who is an alcoholic and in and on/off relationship with her abusive partner. The main plot revolves around the daughter, which is not my reason for rejecting this project. I just want to be a good role model, and that does involve neither drugs nor abuse."
Nodding in understanding, I chew on the inside of my lip without noticing it at first, a habit I have had for years. For some reason unbeknownst to me, it helps me think and process information. "I can see where you're coming from, Calliope", I state, and I do, "but doesn't having a great variety of roles up your sleeves seem to be a better career choice in the long run? And doesn't picking a role out of your comfort zone show just how great of an actress you really are? Honestly, I don't know much about the business and how it all works behind the scenes and what exactly Ashley does, but I know all these people that took home an OSCAR didn't get there by playing the nice girl next door."
It is her time to pause. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrow just a tiny bit, but it is enough for me to notice. "Maaybee", she drawls out, drawling lines in through the sauce with her spoon, "and you're probably right. But not with this script. The mother dies in a car crash, driving under influence and I just don't think it's something I want to be associated with."
She has a good point there. I smile at her, "That sounds like a legit reason. What is the other script about?"
"Uhm, basically just another bland action movie, character A does something very stupid which results in the mean guys taking it out on character A's love interest and he spends the rest of the movie trying to avenge his loss. It could be a big hit at the box office, but I feel like they only want me to have a higher diversity in the cast than wanting me for me. Which would be okay if the character had somewhat of a plot, or at least some big actions scenes. But, nope. And I don't feeling like being the token Latina, sitting in the back of the precinct acting busy." Taking another spoonful of pasta, she gestures with her other hand that she has some more to say. "I think it's sad. I would love to be a part of an action movie, you know? Fast cars, stunts, explosion – that sounds like fun."
Picturing my girlfriend in a tight dress like a Bond girl or in a tight training suit has my mouth watering, but I try to push that thought aside for now. You can always pick it up again for another fanfiction, Arizona. "And the last one?"
"It's about a dancer who thinks she is the best and then gets a harsh reality check from a producer. With her ego beaten to the curb, she goes back to her hometown where she finds herself again in form of teaching kids how to dance. It sounds really cute and I know I would have to polish my ballet technique, but I think it's worth it."
The gleam in her eyes is enough all I need to see to know this is the script she wants to pursue. "You should go for that one."
Later that night, long after the table has been cleaned and the dishwasher has been loaded up, I find myself in one of my favorite positions on the couch. Callie is beneath me, leaning back into the comfortable couch, her hands sometimes roaming over my torso, sometimes resting on my hip and lower back. With my knees digging into the cushion on either side of her thighs, I am straddling her legs while we are lost in a heavy make-out session. And when I say heavy, I mean it. Tongues and teeth are exploring. There is sucking and nipping as two sets of lips, swollen with desire, keep chasing each other towards a higher pleasure.
Hearing my phone ringing and buzzing on the coffee table, I let out an annoyed groan, but I don't attempt to move. It is probably Teddy or a spam email, or something else that is entirely unimportant right now. In fact, I merely look up before I go back to kissing my girlfriend's full lips and plant her left hand on my breast, indicating where I want this night to go. "I love your touch" I breath into her mouth the moment she squeezes the flesh she is holding and after a moment I add, "I think I am addicted to it."
"Good. 'Cause I love touching you. Anywhere." Emphasizing her last word with a light slap to my buttocks, she grins into the next kiss. A soft tanned hand finds its way under my shirt and fingers ghost over my skin, leaving goosebumps on their way. Soon and with a technique practiced multiple times before, she unclasps my bra only to glide under it and cup my boob under the offending material. "Your skin feels so soft", Callie moans against my lips, the feeling of her hot breath against me rushes directly to my crotch. "I-"
Her next sentence is cut off before it even had a chance to begin as this time her phone and mine go off at the same time. "Ugh!" Climbing off her lap, I run my fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ears. "This better be important."
"Mine is just an email from Ashley, she scheduled a meeting for tomorrow at 10:30am, to go over the scripts and talk about the rest. So I guess I'll have to go to her office for an hour or two." She puts her phone back down and pulls her long hair back into a ponytail, "The rest can wait until tomorrow."
"I have a voicemail..?" I never get voicemails. Mainly because my family and friends know not to leave any, for I don't really listen to them, and secondly, because I never leave my phone number on anything. If websites request my number to sign up, I simply don't sign up. Tabbing the play and speaker button, I look at Callie. If it were possible, I would have question marks in my eyes instead of irises.
"Good evening Miss Robbins, this is Richard Webber with Webber and Hunt, if you could just give me a call under 305-573-2100, that would be great. You can reach me on this number Monday through Friday between 9am and 9pm. I hope to hear from you soon."
"Webber and Hunt?", I wonder aloud. It sounds familiar but I cannot pinpoint it at this very second. "I don't know- oh shit!" I yell as it dawns on me and jump up from the couch. "Shit! Shit! Shit! I do know them." Well, you should know them, A. "This is the publisher that couldn't even take the time to spell my name correctly!" What do they want? They already rejected you, Robbins?
"Give him a call!", Callie urges me. "It's still before nine and he was obviously still working."
Sitting back down on the couch, I stare at my phone in my lap and start biting my fingernails. I am so nervous already. "I can't. They already sent me the rejection through email, I don't want to listen to the details of why they didn't like my story." Glancing at the big grandfather's clock – an actual inheritance from Callie great-grandfather – I feel like the clock is mocking me. It's merely ten minutes until nine. Just freaking do it, Robbins! Finding Callie's eyes staring at me like sharp daggers, I cave, "Okay, okay. I'll do it."
"Richard Webber speaking?"
His deep voice booms even more when it is right next to my ear. "Uh, hi, this is Arizona Robbins, you've tried calling me? I was unavailable to get to my phone and just listened to your voicemail." I hear rustling on the other end of the line, like he is shifting around multiple papers.
"Ah, yes, Miss Robbins, it's good to hear from you so soon. Good evening, I hope this is not too late? We could schedule a call time for tomorrow, if you would prefer that."
"Not at all, sir, now is fine." Immediately calming down after hearing his genuine smile through the phone, the constant tapping of my feet begins to slow down. "What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"
He clears his throat – which is something my father always does before he has to tell bad news or needs to apologize to my mother for being, well, an insensitive man. "I am calling regarding your book and to apologize on behalf of our company, for the email you received from one of our interns. It appears that an A. Robbinson sent in an unfinished book around the same time that my partner and I were discussing your story. Our intern got it mixed up and sent you the wrong answer in his email."
Wait, what? What does this mean? "Wha-", coughing slightly after my voice didn't quite make it that far on the first attempt, I try again, "uh, what are you trying to tell me, Mister Webber?" Holy freaking crap, A. Get it together. This moment could turn your whole life upside down, again. This is what you have been working for and what you wanted.
"In other words, Mister Hunt and I agree that you have written a wonderful coming-of-age piece and while it does need some tweaks and a little bit of work, we want to approach this together with you. We would like to schedule a meet up with one of our editors as soon as next week as the ideal plan would be to have your book in the stores before the Christmas shopping starts. Is there any day that you could make it work?"
Feeling like a fish out of the water with my mouth opening and closing and my eyes seemingly bulging out of my head, I do not know what to say. Out of nowhere, I feel Callie grasping my hand, grounding me in a sense that only she can. "Sir", I begin, "are you being serious?"
"Absolutely", he confirms.
"But Christmas-"
"Is only five months away, which is why we need to move quickly to have your book on display as early as Thanksgiving", he chimes in. "Unless you already have another publisher on hand and are working with them. I am sure my partner and I can match their offer, if you have not figured out the details yet."
Hearing more rustling over the phone and another, muffled male voice obviously speaking to Mister Webber – I cannot make out what they are saying – I use this moment as a chance to collect myself. Waiting for the conversation at the other end to be over, I take a few deep breaths before saying, "I was unsuccessful in finding a publisher until your call, sir. As for the editor, any day works for me. If you can send me the details in an email, I'll make sure I'll be there."
"Wonderful! My assistant will be in contact with you regarding the meet up and contracts. If you have any questions at any time, feel free to contact us through email or phone. Congratulations, Miss Robbins, your story is quite enjoyable and I think it will mean a great deal to a lot of teenagers out there. Enjoy the rest of your evening."
The signature click indicates that he hung up before I could finish my reply. To be honest, I am still dumbstruck from this whole situation. Did this really just happen? They want my story", I say aloud for the first time, not really talking to Callie but knowing that she can hear it. "They want to publish my book." Letting the words sink in, I feel tears pricking my eyes. Turning to face my girlfriend, I say it again, "They want to publish my book!"
Guess number nine is your lucky number after all, Robbins.
A/N: I hope you like this update, sorry it took a while.