Step Three: Go With The Flow
When lunch hour came I walked with Vivianne into the student parking lot. It was full of fancy BMW's and porsches that probably cost more then my house. I was suddenly glad I'd transferred in spring opposed to winter, seeing how cold I would be in the winter in this skirt.
"So what do you drive?" I wondered as we walked.
"I don't," she told me, "But my brother drives a Pontiac."
"A G6?" I asked, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. God I loved cars . . . especially sports cars I couldn't afford.
"I think so," she said, "Oh, there's Ashton."
I followed her gaze to the gorgeous cherry red Pontiac G6 convertible with the gorgeous movie star leaning against it. It was obviously none other then Ashton Stryker. I recognized him from several of the blockbuster movies he'd been in.
He was incredibly good looking of course, for God's sake he was a movie star. He had a relatively pale complexion and was tall like his younger sister. He had tousled chestnut curls on his head with blonde highlights that caught the sunshine. I wondered vaguely if they were natural or not. He was wearing his beige school pants, white button down shirt, black tie, and black blazer. He had sunglasses over his eyes that I bet cost hundreds of dollars.
Just like his sister, he didn't seem particularly suspicious.
"I see you've made a friend Vivie," he said when we approached him, lifting his glasses over his eyes and putting them on his head.
"I see that you haven't," she noted.
"Actually, I have," he said, "But I only made reservations for three, knowing you would want to bring a friend."
"Well aren't you a good big brother," she teased and I was surprised by how much their conversation reminded me of my brother and I.
"And you are obviously not a very good little sister . . . Seeing as you haven't introduced me to your new friend," he pointed out.
"Oh right," she said, "Ash, this is Mary. And Mary, this is my brother Ashton."
Ashton actually held his hand out to me. But I guessed that that was what rich people did, so I shook it. I noticed that the watch on his wrist was diamond incrested. Fancy fancy.
"Nice to meet you Mary," he said, "So you'll be joining me and my sister at Masa this afternoon?"
"I guess I am," I said as he opened the back door for me and Vivianne with a sweeping gesture.
Vivianne climbed in and I followed. When I passed Ashton on my way into the car he smiled his movie star's smile at me. I vaguely thought about how many thousands of teen fan girls would pass out if Ashton Stryker smiled at them.
He closed the door behind me and walked around to the drivers side. He climbed in and started the engine.
"Which will it be ladies, top up or down?" he asked.
"Down. But go slow. I don't want to mess up my hair," Vivianne said, checking her reflection in her solid gold compact.
"That sounds quite sexual . . . but alright," he said.
"Ashton, ew," she said, giving him a disgusted look, "Seriously. We have company."
To be honest I'd been working hard not to say 'that's what she said.'
He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the streets. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, reveling in the soft breeze that played with my hair and the familiar scent of smog and hot pretzels that was so common on the streets of New York.
"Hey Vivie, would you mind if we didn't go to Masa?" he asked out of the blue.
"What? I made these reservations three weeks in advance!" she exclaimed, "Why don't you want to go?"
"Because I recently remembered that I utterly despise Japanese food. And I don't want to vomit in front of your new friend," he said, flashing me a teasing smile with the mirror.
"Oh fine," she grumbled, "We don't have to go. But I don't know where you expect us to eat then. We don't have reservations."
"We can go back to the apartment and have Rita make us something," he suggested.
No. Fucking. Way, I thought. This can not be that easy. It can't be.
"You know dad doesn't like us having friends over," Vivianne said.
See?
"So?" he challenged.
"Why do you get so much pleasure out of pissing him off?" she asked.
He glared at her with sudden with the mirror. "I don't," he said.
Okay, so that whole conversation was a tad bit suspicious.
"Well . . . where are we going to eat then?" she asked again.
"ESPN," I suggested without even thinking. I just loved that restaurant and it was impossible to get in there sometimes. I cursed myself mentally.
"The sports bar?" Vivianne asked in astonishment.
Well that's two steps forward and one step back.
"I'm in," Ashton said immediately, his anger disappearing like that.
"But that's like . . . a public place," she said, sounding confused.
"It's opening day," I said, mostly I was trying to explain my first outburst but I was pretty sure I'd just made it worse. Knowledge about sports was not apart of the rich girl handbook.
"Oh. My. God." he said, sounding amazed, "Vivianne, I can't believe it. You have a friend who knows about sports. I never thought I'd live to see the day."
"Shut up," she snapped. "So what you guys are saying is that you want . . . to go to a sports bar?"
She looked at me like she was surprised of this desire in me. I could understand. Not only did I not look like a tom boy but it was also that I hadn't been acting like that around her. But trust me, I was. I so was.
"Very much so," Ashton said.
"Yeah," I mumbled with a lot less enthusiasm or sarcasm, "It just seems like it'd be fun . . . I've never been."
Lie.
"Oh fine. Let's go," she sighed, "You always win anyway Ash."
"She's right," he said, smiling, "I do."
