Chapter 83c: The Drinking Games (19 August 2003, after the evenings torture at the gym)
Unfortunately, I can't quite see her expression. Fucking Eddy. Is he just trying to fuck with me? I doubt the way he's nudging my nose and forcing on this nose splint thing is urgent enough to get in the way of a good conversation. And 'forcing' is definitely the word to use here.
"You know that shit hurts, right?"
My grumpiness cannot be mistaken for anything else, but he just laughs. "If you want it to heal crooked, by all means, stop me. That'll mean another few minutes shaven off until I see little Denise again."
Sometimes, silence is the better option, and I can see Jenny having an inward laugh at my expense. Her eyes are like little snowglobes sometimes, revealing so many gorgeous things while the light catches in them in ways I can't describe in ways other than playfulness mixed with equal amounts of.. is naughtiness even a way to describe the eyes of someone who out-ages me?
"So what are you getting me? Ice tea?"
While she seems to have ignored my outburst at Eddy, I can tell I lost the initiative with that. It makes sense, I guess? What man would complain about being patched up? Fuck.
"If that's what you want."
She smiles. "What are you having?"
Is this how women play coy and hard to get? Or is she just messing with me?
"Whatever you are having."
"That sounds boring. What if I wanted some water instead?"
She's just messing with me. I can definitely tell now.
"At least we'd be on even footing, though."
Her eyebrows lift up, and I just know by the dimples in her cheeks: her curiousity is stirring.
"Oh..? Footing for what?"
She shifts in her seat and glances back towards the chubby girl at the entrance. Given the ease of their silent communication resulting in her heading towards the mini-bar to get us some drinks, they must be somewhat familiar with eachother.
"Drinking games. Although I've been told they aren't nearly as much fun without alcohol."
"Alcohol is definitely a must for those." she counters.
"Are they, though? How about making it more competitive? We could ask each other questions, but have to answer without thinking about it in as fast a manner as possible. Any pauses or silence on your part mean you lose the round."
My finely thought out solution is apparently not good enough by an old sod like Eddy; the scorning roll in his eyes is hardly hidden as he applies the final adhesive strip to keep the nose splint in place. Unfortunately, Jenny notices, and she bursts out in laughter right as chubby girl brings us our drinks. Cola, it seems. It is still fizzing; the bottle it was poured out of must have been freshly opened.
Oh, and some wet napkins. I smile politely at chubby girl who wanders off, not even giving me the time to be polite. Her hand does softly touch Jenny's shoulder as she walks off. That's got to be some sort of hidden woman-speak that's worth studying in the future. Or maybe an in-joke? Who knows.
Meanwhile, Eddy is closing his first-aid kit. "Okay, I'm going to be off. Kid, if you're gonna try to woo a lady, at least make sure to get the blood out of your face, ok? Cheerio!"
God, how embarrassing. I don't even know how to respond; it is just that Jenny is laughing loudly at me as I try to not go completely red with shame as Eddy rushes off towards the exit to go come.
I'd rather be dirty and bloody than be made into such a shining example of 'how not to flirt with a woman'. Fuck! How to… oh, compliments, those are always good.
"Well.. ignoring how I look, you definitely look nice."
She rolls her eyes at me, laughing at me once more. "Whomever told you that women like compliments probably didn't tell you not to compliment a woman who just finished her workout, is sweaty and sticky beyond belief and put off her shower until she got home, hmm? Care to try again?"
I can't even be bothered to repress the groan that follows her response anymore.
"Oh, fuck off. Let's just drink."
As we sip our cola, our eyes meet, but that spark I saw earlier? It is not there now. Ugh. Fuck Quinn. And fuck Eddy, too.
Fair is fair though: her teasing aside, she's pretty cool. As our conversation and talk eventually picks back up again, no doubt more due to her social limberness than my own, she's not gone on to harp about my awkward attempts at flirtation even once.
Or maybe she's just feeling competitive; the drinking game I proposed actually found its way into happening again. Compared to the invisible line of propriety or Setsuka-relatedness of subjects, this is freedom in a nutshell!
She ends up explaining how her summer's been quite dull, how those troublesome friends of hers are either on holidays or had their own plans prepping for living on their own in Birmingham and more excuses that betray she's having a pretty crappy summer. On my hand, I get put in the awkward position of defending the guy who broke my nose, how he is really not an unfit teacher and how he did this by reflex, while he really just did it to teach my frustrated ass a lesson. I could only barely keep hidden quite how much Quinn gets under my skin, but since she caught me hesitating on my response, I think she knows I wasn't being all that truthful.
A second round of cola for both of us starts to bring on excessive amounts of burping; there's not much to say about it when you are chugging the drinks like champs. Not sure why we're chugging them; we're only supposed to talk fast according to the crummy rules I came up with… but we're both competitive, so it is only natural we chug them quite fast whenever our explanations run afoul of hesitation and other pauses.
It is probably not a good sign that I find myself tempted to try and dissect our conversation as we're having it. What is she doing that I'm screwing up on? Can I use that for my acting? Or is that a woman thing? Thoughts like those are sizzling in the back of my mind along with the cola in the bubbling space that is my stomach.
And then I find I have to remind myself: had I not prepared myself for weeks for our next meeting to push us into a proper date, with a kiss and all that jazz? Fuck. I'm not much of a man, am I? Putting something vain like acting above a cute, curvy woman like her. Fuck.
I can't just let this go on. Soon enough, she'll finally announce that she needs to be heading out since I seem to be fine enough by her book, and then the chance will be gone… I can't let it slip by quite that far.
"Uhh.. are you up for a bet?"
The words actually escape me before I've quite thought about the nature of the bet. I just need to shift the conversation away from this heavily-traveled road she seems to know like the back of her hand.
"Maybe..? I'll warn you now: I'm not doing any bet that involves me taking off my clothes, you little pervert."
If she wasn't laughing, I'd have felt offended. But she's laughing, and it is infectious as fuck, so I find myself laughing along.
"Nah. Nothing like that. How about… hmmm… you've seen me be all awkward and blush, right? But I haven't seen you blush."
The light kick against my shin under the table is a great wake-me-up, but I just grin at her, trying to find some solace in all those hours of acting experience I have.
"You being shamed while hitting on me hardly qualifies as you blushing, but fine, what are you getting at?"
She drains her cola while giving me a slightly suspicious look.
"Oh.. uh.. nothing. How about.. if I can make you blush, you give me a kiss. It's only fair."
"You call that 'fair'? Fair my ass..! Who wants to kiss you? How would I win and get something that I want?"
The next kick to my shin is definitely more heavy-footed, but I don't care.
"If you win… I'll not say anything to Setsuka about your smoking. How she'll respond when she finds out bothers you, right?"
I know instantly: that was a mistake. She's standing up, her hand slamming down on the table.
"That's fucking blackmail! No way! When I win, I want you to support me in an argument of my choosing that somehow involves Setsuka. Just shutting your mouth about something isn't losing a bet; you'll have to step out and do something. Only that would make it fair."
My flinch probably egged her on, because she's still standing there, looming over me from that standing position. My agreement to those terms is out before I even get to think them over in detail.
"Okay! Fine! I'll do what you want and help you with her at some point. How about we set the time limit for two minutes?"
I look at her, motioning for her to sit back down which she does, albeit reluctantly given her suspicious her expression appears right this second.
"That's fine. Two minutes isn't much. Do we need an arbiter? To avoid a disagreement over who wins?"
She's referring to chubby girl, I guess? I shake my head as I quote the line from that play we did half a year ago, 'Match in Heaven'.
"'I can be a gentleman if you can be a lady.'"
She laughs, nodding easily in acceptance. "Okay."
Her eyes glance up towards the clock above the bar. She slips back in her seat, getting more comfortable and distancing herself physically, no doubt to support her doing the same in her mind.
"Well, Cain… When the seconds clock hand points to twelve, you can start."
Has she forgotten I want to be an actor? I can only grin at her innocence.
"3… 2… 1… Go!"