The Mocha The Bitch and The Embarrassing Novel

You ever have one of those days where you know the simplest things are going to piss you off? This was one of those, I just didn't know what that thing was going to be yet. Unfortunately I would soon find out.

It's a cool Friday evening and my closest friend Emily Parker has invited me to see some movie or other with her. It wasn't something I was particularly interested in, and the only reason I was even going was because she'd offered to pay. Ok, so we both knew I'd end up coughing up the cash anyways. Not because I was being forced to, mind you, but because I don't like the idea of going out and having the woman pay. Even if she is just a friend.

And before you say anything, Emily is not nor will she ever be my...what do you call it at my age? Girlfriend? That's weird...and not a lover either because...just...ew...but you get my point. Either way she's not that person.

Not to say she's not an attractive woman, far from it. She has long, blonde hair that she usually tucks away into a ponytail or a bun, dark blue eyes she usually hides behind shades. And she's not a skeleton like most women have become, she has curves in all the right places. If I were straight...no...even then I wouldn't date her. She's too much like a sister for that to work. That and she'd probably try and beat the shit out of me for trying. She's very straightforward about her emotions.

So anyways, it turns out she's taking me to some romcom (romantic comedy. Ew. I may be gay, but that shit blows) that she's wanted to see for the last few weeks. But I figure hell, it gets me out of the house so I can't really complain. And by the time the tickets are paid for, snacks are bought, and seats are found, we're bickering about which actor is hotter. Heath Ledger or Patrick Dempsey. Because we all know Patrick Dempsey has a much nicer ass. He's not hard on the eyes either.

By the time trailers start, we've come to no conclusion and silence is agreed upon. And soon after, I find the something that's going to piss me off.

The guy sitting behind me.

Now, I don't mind whispering in a theatre. Emily and I do it all the time. It's when you start getting loud and obnoxious that it's annoying. And of course, five minutes into the actual film, he does the one thing that could make it worse: he answers a call. It's very clear that I'm not the only one upset by this.

Here's something you should know. When I have a day like this, I am not responsible for anything I do or say. It's just a reflex that kicks in and I have no fucking control of it. So what happens next is in no way my fault.

I decide to give him a minute, to see if he'll hang up and call back later. Ha ha ha, silly me, what was I thinking? He doesn't hang up, he starts talking a little louder. I can hear a couple people nearby tell him to put the phone away and shut the hell up.

I can just imagine him flipping them off.

He continuously gets louder and louder and I can tell Emily is damn near ready to punch him out. So am I for that matter. But instead I turn around, lean over my seat, and take his phone from him. Sitting back around to face the screen, I tell the person on the other end (in my perfect imitation of a woman's voice), “He's busy hon,” while somehow slipping the battery out without anyone noticing. I must be fucking magical.

I can hear several people around me snickering as I hand back a now pissed off guy back his phone. Slipping the battery into my pocket, I can hear him fiddling with the damn thing trying to figure out why it's not working. Serves him right.

So he ends up spending the rest of the movie quietly trying to find his battery. And I know he's trying to be discreet, but I can tell he's looking all around my seat. The outcome of these events? Some of us actually get to watch a movie in peace.

At one point, Emily actually leans over and asks me what he's doing. I told her his battery must have somehow disappeared. No clue how it could have happened. She just told me I was an evil bastard. We both laughed.

By the time the credits rolled around, the guy seemed really confused. His friends were trying to usher him out but he was determined to find his battery.

“Hey,” I catch his attention and toss him the battery. His friends all burst out laughing and I just turn back to watch the credits. I just know he wants to beat the shit out of me too and I can't help but smile to myself.

But overall the credits weren't bad. There was a guy with the last name Titcomb (can't imagine the kind of shit he got growing up with a name like that) and the music wasn't total crap either. It's made better when the asshole's friends finally convince him to leave. Turns out he didn't get very far though.

As Emily and I are leaving the theatre guess who's waiting for little old me? Why, my new best friend of course. And he seems oh so happy to see me.

Now, I'm not real tall, only about five foot six. So when I see that the guy that's been wanting to pick a fight with me for the last couple hours can't be more than five feet, I can't help but laugh. I know you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover, and if I thought about it, this guy could probably kick my ass. But this was such a stupid thing to fight over. The call seriously couldn't have been that important.

Plus he was so short he was almost cute. And it's rather difficult to fight something cute.

“Oh my god,” I hear Emily say from behind me. “He's so cute.”

It scares me sometimes how alike we think.

“Who're you calling cute, bitch?” midget-man asks, trying to get up in her face. Which, with his height, doesn't exactly work like he thinks it does.

“You,” she replied, running up and pinching his cheeks. She always did have a way of pissing people off without actually meaning to. I think that's part of the reason I like her. She gets on people's nerves just like I do. And I think the guy's friends like her too because they're standing behind him trying not to laugh.

“Let me go psycho bitch!” he shouts, trying to shove her off. Keep in mind the girl's a lot stronger than she looks.

“Em,” I manage go get out between my fits of laughter. “I think you should let him go.” I want to avoid any hospital trips if at all possible.

“No, it's alright,” one of his friends interrupts. “I think he likes it. And even if he doesn't, he deserves it.”

“See?” she replies, stretching out his cheeks. “It's all good. So where are you guys headed anyways?”

The interrupting friend replies, “Just down the street to the local bar.”

“No way,” she says, looking back to him while still managing to pull at the asshole's cheeks and fight off his attempts to stop her. “That's where we're headed.”

“Hey,” I catch her attention. “You said nothing about bars. If you want to go bar hopping with your new buddies, fine. I don't want anything to do with it.” Ha ha ha ha, bars and I never really got along. Don't really want to try and start a relationship now.

“Oh, come on,” she whined.

“No. Last time I went to a bar with you I woke up in a whorehouse with some guy named Frankie trying to steal my pants.”

“Then you should learn to pay more attention and not drink so much,” she replied.

“I was the only sober one there. Why is it that every time we go to a bar, you end up drunk and I end up in all the freak situations?”

“You're a magnet for them. I think it's your ass,” she said, finally letting the angry midget go to dig through her purse. God knows how she finds anything in there.

“What's wrong with my ass?” I asked, 'hurt'.

“Nothing. That's my point. You've got the finest ass I've ever seen and it's probably what attracts all those 'freak situations'.”

I turn around in an attempt to get a look at my 'fine ass' as she put it. Smirking I reply, “It is nice, isn't it.”

“Conceited bastard,” is her mumbled answer.

“And yet you're still here.”

She sticks her tongue out at me. Another reason I like her: we're both extremely immature and we're not afraid to do stupid, immature shit like that in public. Which is why I respond in kind.

“You know, if you really cared, you'd go with me,” she pouted.

“And why is that?” I ask skeptically.

“Because it's always a good idea to bring a gay guy with you when you go to a bar.”

“Since when?”

“Since I decided it was,” she said, gripping my arm. Too late to escape now. Fuck.

I scowl at her but mumble, “I better be getting something good out of this.”

“Oh I'm sure you'll find something.”

Midget man is still fuming behind us but I think the promise of alcohol has him distracted for the moment. Thank you inhibition killing wonderment, you have once again saved my closest friend from a non-alcohol related death.

The only weird thing now is the fact that midget man's friends are murmuring amongst themselves. Normally this wouldn't bother me, except that they're now pointedly staring at us while doing so. I suddenly have a very bad feeling about this. Like that time Emily told me we were going on vacation somewhere secluded.

And I'll give her credit, the place was out in the middle of nowhere. It just so happened we were on vacation in the middle of nowhere with about fifty other people. Her bright idea of trying to get me laid. The outcome: she got laid and I got stuck having to explain to the police how one of the drunken party goers had gotten shot in the leg.

By the way, don't ever try to wrestle a drunk biker. It doesn't end well.

So I have good reason to be nervous.

And about half way to the bar, Emily forcibly includes them into conversation. Apparently both she and midget man's friends are expecting company to join them later.

I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting a few of her friends. I don't care to meet the rest of them. They frighten me. Like the friend that has a whip collection and a dungeon. I try to avoid people like that at all costs. So far, it's done wonders for my mental health. Physical too.

I have no idea what midget-man's friends are like, so I'm not sure if I should be afraid. But for safety's sake, I think I will. Not that I don't trust people. As a general rule I try to give them the benefit of the doubt. I just don't trust people in bars. Bad things happen.

As we arrived, I was a little more circumspect of the people around me. Experience had taught me to watch your ass in places like this. Don't pick up a drink you set down and/or walked away from. And for god's sake, don't go into a fucking alley. Nothing good ever happens in an alley.

But other than that the bar's fine. It smells like smoke and alcohol, but hey, what bar doesn't. I'm just thankful Emily wasn't into clubs. I don't like the deafening music. I'd like to still be able to hear in twenty or thirty years.

And of course Emily heads straight for the alcohol. I ignore it all together and find a booth in the corner to sit at. She soon follows with midget-man and his friends behind her. Drinking competitions (of which I have nothing to do with) ensue.

Here's another thing about Emily. She can hold her alcohol like there was no tomorrow. I've seen her drink some pretty big guys under the table. In fact, I'm actually surprised her liver isn't shot to hell by now.

Midget-man's friends end up learning this the hard way.

About halfway through the second round, a small group of people come wandering in. And apparently they're more friends of midget-man. Introductions are made.

The short redheaded woman was Sherry. She seemed like more of a slut than anything, but she and Emily seemed to get along pretty well. Then there was Grant, your average looking business man. Nothing really seemed to stand out about him. Jake was more the tan athletic type. Sports. Ugh.

And I swear to god my eyes nearly bugged out of my head when the last guy was introduced. I can tell you I've never seen a guy that...fuck, attractive doesn't even come close to describing it.

He only looked to be about a couple inches taller than I was which put him at about five foot eight or nine. His short brown hair was sticking up all over the damn place, like he'd just gotten out of bed. Which, for all I know, he had. And he was muscular without being scary Arnold bodybuilder buff, the shirt emphasizing everything in just the right way.

When I finally managed to convince myself to look up at his face, I can honestly tell you I don't think I've ever seen eyes like that. And it's pretty damn hot. The right one was icy blue while the left one was bright green.

And his name was Christian.

Emily and I introduce ourselves. I managed to do so without making myself out to be a complete moron. Which is a serious accomplishment seeing as I have a history of doing the stupidest shit in situations like this.

I also manage to stop staring. Granted it was due to Emily's elbow suddenly being jabbed into my side, I still pulled it off. She gives me a knowing smile and I just roll my eyes at her. Our own little private conversation. Her telling me to go for it and me telling her there's no way he's gay. I mean, come on. A guy that hot? I don't think so.

“So,” she says, drawing attention to herself. I know why too. I pray it doesn't work. “Who wants to play a round of pool with me?”

Every drunk man at the table that isn't passed out (cough midget-man cough) agrees and follow her to the large pool tables nearby. Without even having to look I can tell you every single one of them thinks they're going to get a good look at her ass, and if they're lucky, down the front of her shirt. Scoff. Men.

The only one that didn't follow was Christian. Fuck. Her plan had worked.

As awkward silences go, this one isn't terrible. Hell, it could be worse. Emily could be here to tell stories. All of which involve an embarrassing story of someone she knows. So I figure I can't fuck this up that bad right?

“So I see Emily's taken whoring herself out again.”

Don't ever say it could be worse. The universe takes it as a personal challenge.

He stares at me for a moment and quirks a brow as a small smirk makes it's way across his face. Some part of me hates him for being so damn hot. He replies with, “Isn't she your friend?”

“That's the only reason I get to say that and live,” I mumble, wishing there was a rock near by. You can never find one when you need it.

He just shakes his head, smirk never leaving, and turns back to the pool game.

Now would be a really good time for some alcohol. Too bad I'm afraid of the situations I'd end up in if I wasn't sober. So I do the next logical thing. Stare at the pitcher.

Ok, so it's not really logical, but in some weird twisted way it makes me feel better. Don't ask me why because I don't know. I start wiping off the condensation and wondering if I'll be able to avoid anything...bad for the night.

See, I really don't understand why this shit happens. I got good grades in school, I tried not to piss people off. Maybe it's karma for something I did one of the rare times I was drunk. Or maybe some god is bored and I'm just the entertainment for their sick enjoyment.

Well, fuck you too.

The pitcher is suddenly moved out from in front of me and it startles me out of my thoughts. Glancing up I can see Christian move it to the other side of the table. I give him a questioning glance. He just shrugged. “You were glaring at it. I wasn't sure it would survive.”

I stare at him for a moment in surprise before chuckling and glancing in Emily's direction. From the looks of things, she's already managed to win a few hundred from midget-man's friends. One of the great things about being able to hold your liquor: makes taking money from people that much easier.

Just as she's about to sink another shot, she stops to stand up and wave in the general direction of the entrance. Crap. That meant her friends were here.

They meet up with Emily at the table where a short conversation ensues. I wish it lasted longer because next thing I know they're headed our way.

Did I mention how much her friends scare me?

“Aubrey!” one of them calls. Oh great, the dominatrix. For some reason she's taken a real liking to me. I am so glad I've been able to get away before she's invited me to her home. I don't think I'd ever be the same after something like that. I don't mind people with fetishes like that, I just don't want them anywhere near me.

She tackles me with a bone-crushing hug, making air almost impossible to get. Not fun.

The others follow behind her, friends I haven't met and don't care to know. I guess it's too late to leave though. Maybe if I came up with a good escape plan...

As soon as she loosens up the slightest bit I tell her, “I have to take a piss.”

Bow down to my brilliance.

The one great thing about bars is there's always a back door somewhere. Usually by the bathrooms. Hopefully I could make my escape before anyone noticed I was gone too long. And seeing as Emily drove us here, I have no car. Meaning I have to walk home while it's fucking freezing.

The only flaw in this plan? The back door leads to an alley.

Why is it that everything horrible thing out there lurks around alleys? Rapists, murders, muggers, etc. Why can't anything good ever happen in an alley?

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by someone tapping my shoulder.

You know how most people respond to surprise by yelling or screaming? Yeah, that's not me. My automatic reaction is to go into defense mode and beat the shit out of whatever startled me. Not always the best response, is it.

Surprisingly enough, whoever has come up behind me knows how to defend themselves. And as soon as I realize who it is, I'm grateful.

“Mind if I walk with you?” Christian asks, amusement written across his features. God, the man could pull a stupid face and he'd still look fucking amazing.

I flat lined for a minute. I know I did because there was absolutely nothing running through my head. I could think of absolutely nothing. It was the weirdest feeling, especially considering that I've never done that before. And I have no plans to do it ever again.

Staring at him blankly I replied, “What?” I should try out for a part in a soap opera.

He just stared back and quirked a brow. God damn he was hot when he did that. And it's not fair because it's far too distracting.

“A man of few words. You must be really good at charades. Hey, let's give it a try. You go first. First word. Sounds like...”

He laughs and begins walking towards the entrance of the alley, and all I can do is stare after him. Is it just me, or are my pants suddenly too tight? Great. Just what I need. To walk around with a boner. Which I guess wouldn't be too bad except for the fact that I'm going to be doing it next to every woman's (and my) wet dream.

I will find a way to get my revenge on you, Universe.

Looking back over his shoulder, he gives me this questioning look. I suddenly feel like a dog. He could lead me to an organ harvesting plant and I'd follow, which is really stupid because I'm an organ donor. Point being I'd follow him into all kinds of stupid shit just to hear him talk. Now I feel like a really stupid dog.

Sighing to myself I cautiously walk up next to him. I still know nothing about him and we're stuck in an alley. Why did I think this was a good idea again?

Out of pure instinct I ask, “Which way are you headed?”

He points left and I'm not sure if I'm happy or weirded out that we're walking in the same direction. I'll go with somewhere in between, just to be safe. He may be sex on a stick, but that doesn't mean he's not an ax murderer too. Or into some really weird bondage shit. What does it say about me that I'm more concerned about fetishes than criminal history? Probably not anything good.

About half way down the street I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of this really creepy laugh coming from my phone. Christian glances over at me curiously and I dig for my phone in order to avoid his gaze. The only reason I even have that ringtone is so I know when to be afraid. Give you two guesses as to who's on the other end.

The minute I open my phone I can hear screaming on the other end. “Where the fuck are you, asshole?!”

“I fell into the toilet and ended up in the Twilight Zone,” I can hear Christian stifle a chuckle next to me. “Unfortunately Rod Serling is nowhere to be found.”

“Get your ass back here. Now.”

“No.” She's going to be so pissed at me. I should probably care about the bodily harm she'll end up causing me later, but I can't seem to bring myself to with my newly discovered obsession walking next to me. That just made me sound really creepy...

“Who the fuck's going to drive me home then?”

“You'll find somebody,” I shrug even though she can't see me. “You usually do.”

She sighs in frustration. “Fine. But you could at least have told Laurel goodbye.”

“The dominatrix? That's okay. I'd rather not end up in her dungeon.”

“You're such a dick sometimes,” she huffed.

“No, but I have one, thanks. Besides, you're the one with the weird friends.”

“And you aren't?”

“Never said I wasn't included.” A sudden gust of wind makes me shiver and start to walk faster. I'd almost forgotten about Christian until I catch him out of the corner of my eye. “Sorry I abandoned you, tell your friend what she wants to hear, and I'll see you tomorrow if I haven't ended up in another whorehouse.”

I can hear her huff on the other end before I hang up.

As we continue walking I can feel him staring at me. Glancing over, I find he's doing that smirk and quirk...please ignore that. That was stupid. But you know what I mean. “What?”

That smirk almost turns into a smile as he replies, “So what's it like to be in the Twilight Zone?”

I end up staring at him for a moment before I burst out laughing. I almost tell him that it's fucking amazing since he showed up, but I figure he might find it a little creepy. Hell, I know I would. “Well, it's not bad so far. I have a feeling it might stay that way as long as nothing tries to eat me.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. If I wasn't afraid of suddenly growing female parts I'd tell you what a lovely sound it was. As it stands now I'll just tell you it's fucking hot.

He seems to watch me for another minute before asking about the whorehouse. I will never understand how I ended up there. I shrug. “One of the many strange situations I've found myself in after following Em to a bar. And before you say anything, no, I wasn't drunk.”

The slightest hint of a smile makes it's way across his face and I can't help but wonder what it would be like to see a full blown smile there. Probably amazing just like everything else. Fuck it all the hell, I feel like a fifteen year old girl with her first crush. I hope someone has the sense to shoot me if I start giggling.

Okay, so Emily might not. She'd probably think it was funny and start tying my hair in ribbons. You know, now that I think about it, I'm more afraid she'd put me in a dress and do my makeup. Maybe I could convince Nyk to do it. He likes weapons and isn't afraid to hurt people. I'll have to wait until he gets back from his Washington trip...

Good thing I have him on speed dial. If it ever gets too much he only lives a few blocks away. When he's not in Washington of course.

Most of the rest of the trip is made in silence as I mentally berate myself for my sudden gender change. Sure I've been with other guys, and sure some of them were pretty hot. But I don't remember it ever being this bad.

Maybe it's the fact that I haven't gotten out of the house in the last...couple months, what with the new book and all. Hence the reason I came out tonight. Also might have something to do with the fact that I haven't dated anyone in the last couple years...

I've been busy.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I glance around and realize that I'm about to walk past my own building. Damn it, I really should have been paying more attention.

Scowling, I turn around and make for the front door. I get a confused look from Christian. “I live here,” is all I say. He nods and watches me for a moment before walking off.

Um...alright. I stare after him until he clears the next corner before opening the door. What the fuck was that?

I end up passing the landlady on the way to my room. She's a sweet little old lady that always wants to help. And talk. She really likes to talk. Mostly I nod and smile before moving on, just like now. Something about one of her kids coming up for a visit.

By the time I actually make it back to my room, it's not really all that late. Only about nine or so. But I haven't been sleeping much lately due to the fact that my editor has been bitching at me every night for the last couple months. She's not going to get that book any faster if I'm dead.