Cheeky

№ 25. London Calling

Patrick Swayze. No not Patrick Swayze as he was a few years ago, but Patrick Swayze circa Dirty Dancing. When he was chisled and bronzed - every woman's fantasy. And in this moment, he has his shirt off and he's looking at me like I'm Demi Moore from Ghost. Swayze is walking towards me, doing the Mambo to a sporatic melody in the air, and for some reason I'm making pottery; my arms and hands caked in damp clay, swirling around a slippery mass. He's just about to open his handsome mouth, woo me with a monologue of how I could change the world when -

'☆Cause you know I'd walk A thousand miles If I could Just see you Tonight ☆-

With one groggy arm, I slam my hand over my sheets and on to the night stand beside me. Blindly, my fingers scramble across the wooden surface until finally I stumble across the annoying piece of plastic, screeching it's obscene melody that woke me so rudely.

"Shut up Vanessa Carlton!" I shout into my mattress. My eyes still shut, heavy with sleep, I press some button and smush the phone between my cheek and pillow.

"What do you want?"

"Cassidy, bring -"

"Nick?"

"Yes, now -"

"Why are you calling me so early?"

"You see, I wa-"

"I just need one more hour of sleep."

"Stop talking!"

My lids snap open and I roll until my sheets have been kicked off.

"Excuse you?"

"Just let me speak and then you can get your bloody hour more!" Nick pants on the line.

I narrow my gaze on my toes, keeping my silence as Nick begins to breathe normally again.

"Could you please, just bring Emma to work with you today?"

I lean back against my headboard,  "You're just gonna oggle her for six hours?"

There's a brief pause.

"I guess not then."

"Don't be creepy Nick, it doesn't suit you."

He sighs, "Well then what do you propose I do?"

"Take her somewhere nice after work."

"Such as...?"

I flop back on my side, "I dunno, you decide. You seem like a romantic to me, so this would be right up your alley. Uh, dazzle her."

"Dazzle her?"

"Stop repeating everything I say."

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, "I'm just nervous."

I smile at his anxious tone, clearly evident in our conversation thus far.

"Don't be. Emma loves confidence,  it's the most attractive trait you could possibly have. Plus you're employed, which is infinitely more points on your side since I can't say the same for her last three boyfriends."

"Then I'll dazzle her," Nick says cheerfully,  and for once I'm convinced that he'll actually live up to it. He's not like other guys I've met. Nick is more sensitive, but can still maintain a boyish charm. He cares, a lot.

I think what I liked so much about George is that for the first time I was dating a man and not a boy. George was masculine and protective, a roughed but sweet type; he made me feel whole. I could never say that before, that a guy made me want to be a better person in general. I had been used to living up, or at least trying, to what they wanted me to be. George on the other hand, planted this notion of bravery in my head - to want to go out and fight, not people because that would just end horribly on my part, but to fight for myself. I wasn't dictated anymore by the person who stood beside me - I was just Cassidy.