Skylar takes my hand and pulls me into her house. I am greeted by a lived in and homey entry way with a coat rack filled with jackets. Skylar kicks off her shoes and briskly walks deeper into the house. I clumsily take my shoes off and throw them in a pile. I smell bacon as I walk into the kitchen, where I find Skylar standing eerily next to her parents in a neat row.
I look around nervously then look back at the family. They are all made entirely out of bacon. The smell of bacon is overwhelming.
"Hello Casey." They croon simultaneously. "Welcome to our home." I look around again in a panic, their entire kitchen has changed into bacon. The floor, the stove, the sink, all made of bacon. The smell of bacon is causing me to feel faint. The bacon people walk closer to me, no longer of any resemblance to their former human selves. I back away, looking around for the door I came from, but there were none. I am trapped.
The bacon people back me into the corner, and I am in a panic.
"Stay back! Don't touch me!" I scream. They extend their bacon hands to me, and start chanting my name.
"Casey"
"Casey"
"Casey"
"CASEY"
I'm jerked awake by Parker yelling my name.
"Jesus, you sleep harder than someone in a coma." Parker stands next to my bed, wearing his pink apron, his hip popped out to the side. It still smelled intensely of bacon, but not in my dream. " I made breakfast, bacon and pancakes. Come and eat before it gets cold." Parker struts out of the room, leaving me dazed.
My clothes from they day before are wet with sweat, since I forgot to take them off before I fell asleep. I obviously was too tired to take anything off because my hat is on the pillow next to me, and my jacket is still on. I am also still wearing socks, which I feel is a sin in itself because why would you ever wear socks to bed. I guess I had only taken off my shoes before falling into bed, dog tired.
I get out of bed and take off my jacket, throwing it on the floor with my other dirty laundry. Making my way to the bathroom, I take off my socks and shove on the pair of pink fuzzy slippers Parker bought me for my birthday. I reach around the side of the door frame to flip on the light before entering the bathroom, in case of ghosts or toilet witches in the dark; toilet witches hate the light I'll have you know.
I brush my teeth and haphazardly try and brush my hair into something manageable, only to give up and throw it into a little bun on the top of my head. I splash my tired face with water, still trying to shake off the weird dream. I place my hands steadily on the countertop and lean into them. I stare at my face in the mirror.
My light purple eye bags aren't as bad today seeming as I got to sleep in. Today is my day off and I am very grateful. My dull grey eyes look back at me from the mirror. I never can figure out why people think they are cool. No one chooses grey as their favorite color. When you ask someone what the most boring color is, they usually say grey. I don't get it.
I rub my hands over my eyes, wiping away any sleep that still rested there, and exited the bathroom. Making my way down the hall to the kitchen, I drag my feet lazily across the carpet. Parker is scuffling across the kitchen in slippers that match mine, carrying two plates of stacked pancakes and bacon.
"Finally, princess Casey decides to show up after sleeping in very late." Park set down the plate in front of me just as I sit down. "Eat up, you already took too long so it's not piping hot anymore." He plops down across from me and pulls his phone out. I watch him scroll through whatever he was looking at, stopping every once and a while to read something and shove a couple bites of pancake in his mouth.
I shovel the light, fluffy, crafted with love pancakes into my mouth; then reluctantly munch the bacon down too.
"Your phone is ringing." Parker says without looking up from his phone. The quiet whisper of Single Ladies by Beyoncé plays down the hall as I leap up to answer. I sprint down the hall and to my bedside table. The caller ID is Skylar and she's requesting a face time. I slam the accept button and am greeted by her beaming face. My face looks like absolute trash compared to her smooth complexion and soft waves that fall gently around her face.
"Hey there Beyoncé_XoXo." Skylar says smirking. My stomach drops to my feet and my mouth goes dry.
"You know about that?"
"Oh ya, read all of the Bey worshipping text posts, all the edits, everything."
"Oh god. I'm so sorry you had to see that; I swear that's an old account."
"Riiiiight. Anyways, I'm at your door; you should let me in."
"What?" I exclaim in surprise. "How did you even find out where I li-" Skylar hangs up. I jog to the front door and throw it open. There is no one there. I step out into the hallway and look around. About five doors down stands Skylar, looking down at her phone and furiously typing on it. I say her name and she jumps, turning towards me. Her face instantly goes red as she shuffles, head down, towards me.
"Were you waiting at the wrong door?" She blushes deeper and puts her face in her hands, peeking out between her slender fingers. Her nails are short and covered in chipped black nail polish; and the tips of her fingers are stained bright blue. "Okay, well come in before anyone drunkendly stumbles out and accuses me of kidnapping you. My neighbors are crazy." I slide to the left and lean against the wall as she steps into my foyer. I close the door behind her as she looks around with a smirk on her face, ears still pink as she tries to mask her remaining embarrassment.
"I didn't imagine someone like you having such a neat stylized apartment. Looks like it came just out of a magazine." I draw my eyebrows together and I am just about to tell her how wrong she was when Parker comes around the corner, spatula in hand, closed fist on hip. Parker has become increasingly more flamboyant since he found out he was gay. If it keeps getting worse; and I don't know if I want to see what he'll be like in fifty years.
"That would be my work. Casey has no stylistic sense. You should see Case's bedroom, it's a train wreck."
"Hey, my room isn't that bad."
"If by bad you mean bland, then you are totally wrong."
"Alright cut it out, my room is fine. Parker this is Skylar." Skylar starts to extend a hand before Parker pulls her into a bone crushing hug. "He's a hugger." I say shrugging, then laughing when Parker loosened his grip to flip me off.
"It is so nice to meet the face behind the name." Parker says after releasing her from his killer death grip.
"And to you as well. Casey is right, you are basically a mom." Skylar said before Parker comes stomping over to me and whacking me with his spatula.
"I am not, it's just you literally live like a toddler. You can't clean up after yourself, or cook for yourself. I feel responsible for your wellbeing."
"I'm not quite a toddler, I keep my messes to a minimum; and I can make a mean bowl of cereal." I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest. Parker scoffs and rolls his eyes, then tells us he has some "business" to attend to; which is probably sitting on the floor of his bedroom yelling at water colors to blend right. Parker disappears to his room, and that will probably be the last time I see him today.
"So what's the plan?" I ask Skylar as she hops up to sit on the counter in the kitchen. I get out a mug and fix her a cup of coffee, handing it to her.
"I'm thinking, go for a drive, I'll take you to my favorite places. The cafe was just the first one....Ooh let's make it a game! I'll take you to all of my favorite places, and when I'm done, you take me to all of yours! It will be fun!" She smiled brightly, stopping to bite her lip and tap her nose, as if trying to knock her ideas out of her head. "And whoever has the better places wins.... Something. We'll figure it out later."
"Sounds fun." I say over my shoulder as I wash my hands in the sink. I turn back to face her, drying my hands. She clasps her fingers in excitement and jumps of the counter. She walks up to me and grabs my wrist, pulling me towards the front door. I begin to protest. "I can't go out looking like this!"
"Sure you can; you look fine. Now let's go!"she pulled on my arm again, and I resisted.
"These are my clothes from yesterday, I can't remember if I put on deodorant or brushed my teeth, so if you want a smelly gross date keep pullin." She rolled her eyes.
"Please, I don't care about that. But obviously you care far too much, so I'll let you. Make it quick!" She let go of my arm and waved me along. I let out a rushed sort of "thank you" and sprinted to the bathroom.
I discarded my clothes on the floor and jumped in the shower, washing everything with the speed of a race horse... or greyhound..... cheetah.... something like that. I brushed my teeth with my designated shower toothbrush and toothpaste and I was home free.
I leapt out of the shower, nearly slipping and eating shit on the wet bathroom floor. I wrapped my towel around my body and exited the bathroom, quickly skittering down the hall to my room.
I entered the room, fully ready to sling off my towel and throw on some clothes when I saw Skylar sitting on the edge of my bed reading some book from my bookshelf. I felt my ears turn red as I stood holding my towel tightly against me.
"I won't look, I promise." Skylar said without lifting her eyes from the book. I shuffled over to to my dresser and pulled open the drawers. "Not looking, not looking, not looking ..... Shit I looked..... cute butt." I went completely red and covered my bare butt with my hands. I quickly pulled on blue ripped jeans and a holy black tshirt. I turned around to Skylar still reading with pink tipped ears, I assume from seeing my butt.
She looked up and met my eyes, then swept down my body to look at my clothes. She stood up and grabbed my shoulders, wheeling me around and sitting me down next to the closed book on my bed. She flipped through my closet and found a royal blue lettermans jacket and tossed it to me, telling me to put it on.
I slipped it over my shoulders as she went to my hat collection on a shelf behind my bed. She chose a black beanie and kneeled behind me on the bed, ruffling and smoothing my hair; then shoving the hat on the back of my head. She crawled next to me and swung her leg over my thighs, capturing my hips between her knees.
She sat on my lap and smoothed down my hair in the front, her eyebrows drawn together with focus and her slightly dry lips caught between her white teeth.
Up this close I could see every freckle she had, and how she had changed her nose ring to a tiny sun shaped stud. I was closer to her now than I had ever been, all it would take was a little lean forward and we would be kissing. It took everything in me not to, and to just watch her bright eyes flicker from side to side following her hands as she brushed my hair into place.
Finally she smiled and placed her hands on my shoulders. She brought one hand to her mouth, and did the thing you do when something is perfect, you kinda kiss all your fingers at the same time, then throw them out like you do after a fist bump.
She looked in me dead in the eye for a couple of seconds before climbing off my lap and handing me my deodorant from my bedside table.
- - -
"You want me to drive that?" I ogled open mouthed at red mustang convertible; looked brand spanking new, no older than a 2014 model. Skylar only nodded and gave the keys to me. She walked to the passenger side and vaulted over the side; landing in the seat with a thump. I took my time running my fingers over the finish, slowly sliding my hand down to the handle, warm from the California sun.
"Jeeze, hurry up we don't have all day." Skylar tapped her nails against the side, seemingly her impatient sort of tic. I opened the glorious red door and sat down on the smooth leather seat. I ran my hands over the steering wheel and stuck the keys in the ignition, revving the engine. "God stop with the car sex, we gotta go or else all the cool stuff will be gone."
She didn't tell me where we were going, she just told me what to do to get there.
She had the book from my room on her lap, her finger trapped delicately between the pages to save her place. Somehow her stealing my stuff didn't bother me like it did when Parker steals my things.
We drove down the highway; wind whipping through our hair. Skylar pointed to the Glendale exit and I took it, still not sure where we were going. We got a little ways out into a semi rural, or as rural as Cali could be, place and Skylar told me to turn on a dirt road. She unbuckled and sat on the back of the seat, her arms braced on the edge of the windshield. She blocked her eyes from the sun with a hand, searching the large dirt parking lot we had just pulled into for a parking spot.
She spotted a stall and pointed in the direction. She got us a spot right in front of a large field filled with tents and vendors and food trucks. There was a live band playing in the center, on a couple of Persian rugs under a cabana with sheets draped around the sides. I took off my jacket, resenting Skylar for dressing me like I live in Seattle. It was especially dry and hot in the open field, but once we reached the shade of all the tents, it cooled off significantly.
"Welcome to one of my favorite places, this farmers market. What do you want to do? We could get a snack, or browse, or we could get henna! I want to get matching henna; would you indulge me and get one?" We were slowly walking down the row as she pumped out ideas. Before I could answer, she grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me through the groups of people. We near a booth that has the word "mehindi" in bright letters across the top of the canopy.
She walked under the shade of the tent and began looking at the sample drawings on the wall, her head tilted back; hair spilling over her shoulders. I scanned the walls. There were tribal designs, and flowers. There were delicate vines that wrapped around the models arms and fingers. There was a picture with two arms in it.
One arm had a sun; its rays stretched out in elegant lines. There were flowers around it whose leaves grew with a detailed design that wraps around the fingers like dainty rings.
The other was a crescent moon. The moon itself was completely shaded in, and there were tiny stars splattered around the moon. Petal designs were around the perimeter, each petal laced with swirls and dots and star shapes.
"Skylar, look." She turned around and walked behind me, looking over my shoulder.
"That is gorgeous. Do you want to get that?" I turned my head to meet her excited eyes. I nodded curtly and she went to gather the artist. She walked up to a tall Indian woman with short purple hair and tattoos splattered around her caramel skin. She had long eyelashes and the sharpest cat eye it could cut someone. She had red lipstick and a bindi that matched the color of her lips perfectly. A sea foam blue scarf was draped over her shoulders.
Skylar motioned me over to a set of two stools and sat down on one, patting the other stool with her hand. I plopped down and offered up my right forearm. The woman sat across from us in a much lower stool. She rested her arms across my knees and used her pinky finger to steady her hand as she squeezed the thick greenish brown paste on to my arm.
It was amazing the amount of gentle talent this woman had. She went off of the photo, but the one on my arm was a unique and gorgeous work of art in its own. Her movements were fluid as the paste made designed that flowed in and out of each other.
After at least ten minutes she finished up and gave me the 'how to make it last' spiel. She scooted the stool towards Skylar and began to work on her arm, hers just as original and special as mine. I stared down at the moon on my arm, tracing the swirls up my arm and down between my fingers with my eyes.
I glanced over at Skylar, and noticed how she was just as enraptured with the woman's work as I was. I sat and creepily watched Skylar as she stared at the design, watching as her mouth was softly parted with awe, and her dark eyelashes hid her eyes as she looked down. Her hair, that had been pulled up into a messy ponytail before her turn getting henna, was falling out of the loose tie, falling around her face in wisps of lovely golden blonde hair.
Her lovely blue eyes came up to meet mine and we stared at each other for a while. Neither of us looked away; and you would think it would be uncomfortable, but it really wasn't. It was just as comfortable as laying in the softest bed when you are tired after a long day, or listing to your old favorite song, or hugging your best friend.
Seeming as I don't really know this girl, I'm astonished at how utterly at ease I am with her. I feel safe; like if someone came here and held a gun up to my head, she would protect me to the bitter end. I would probably do the same for her. This sudden realization and thought process distracted me from the fact that Skylar had said something, I have no idea what. She apparently had already payed and she was tugging me up to go.
She pulled me back out into the aisle, back into the hot sun. I was careful not to bump my freshly hennaed arm against anything. She pulled me to an Asian food truck, and got one melon one strawberry boba tea. She took a sip off of both and handed me the melon one.
"What was that?" I ask her, looking at the two teas in our hands.
"I was deciding which one I liked better. You can have a sip off of mine if you want." She held the straw to my mouth and I took a sip. The bright flavor filled my mouth and the tapioca pops between my teeth. I had never had boba tea before, but I am pleasantly surprised by the soft and sweet flavor, and the tapioca giving it texture.
We walked around the market, and Skylar would pull me aside to grab ingredients for who knows what. An onion here, some garlic there, a handful of basil in the basket. She wouldn't tell me what all the stuff was for, but I didn't really ask.
I hadn't realized how long we had been walking around, because by the time we had loaded the groceries into the back of the car, the sun was setting. The sky was turning orange and pink around the edges, burning its way to the center blue.
"What do you think Parker is up to right now?" Skylar asked me after buckling herself in next to me.
"He has probably been painting all day. Nights like this he's usually tucked away back in his room and then he comes out around dinner to find I've only made food for myself. "
"Okay, well let's go back to your apartment for dinner then?" Her eyes were sparkling with a devious plan, and I nodded my head, reversing out of the spot we were parked and beginning our trip back.
"Okay, what are we doing?" I said as I set the bags of assorted veggies on the counter. She skittered around the kitchen, rifling through the drawers until she found what she was looking for.
"Cooking; just do what I tell you ad you'll do fine." I nodded as she set a pan in my hands and told me to heat it up. I made my way over to the stove and did what she said. I watched as she chopped up an onion, she chopped in quick certain chops, seeming to have done it a thousand times before. She scooped up the chunks and dumped them in the pan in front of me, pouring some olive oil over the top. The sizzling sound overtook the room along with the smell of the onion enveloping my sense of smell.
She told me to stir the onions as she flitted around the small room, rinsing vegetables and chopping them, until she looked at me and her eyebrows scrunched up and made little wrinkles in her forehead. She took the few strides towards me and threw her arms around my back, grabbing onto my wrists.
"I don't know how you don't know how to stir onions." She grumbled from behind me, and started guiding my hands around the pan, the spatula in my right and the pan handle in my left. She shook my left had back an forward, and made a zig zag motion across the onions in the pan with the right. She guided my hands continuously until I was doing it all on my own and she was just standing, arms wrapped around my waist, face pressed against the side of my arm; watching me do exactly what she showed me. She hummed with content and let go, her body's heat leaving me to go back to chopping whatever.
There was a calm feeling over the rest of dinner making, each of us working around each other, gentle brushes against hands and soft side hugs after cooking feats on my part. Turns out we were making lasagne, I had no idea until it was finished, just about to go in the oven.
"I thought we could make cookies too." Skylar said from behind me as I crouched in front of the oven looking at the lasagne cooking. I peered over my shoulder and nodded, standing up; every joint clicking and popping on the way. She somehow had laid out all of the supplies while I was watching the lasagne cook. There were too many ingredients to count, or that I wanted to count.
"I think I'm going to be the assistant this time, you get to lead." I shook my head vigorously.
"I don't think that would be good, I'd probably mess it up really bad."
"I won't let you I promise." She flashed a beaming smile before starting to spew directions at me. I could barley keep up. I got lost right after two cups of flour. I opened the flour bag and got an idea. I look at Skylar and somehow she instantly can tell my plan.
"Don't you dare." She said, taking a defensive stance.
"Don't I dare what?" I tried to hold in my telltale trouble grin ripping at my lips as I pull my fist full of flour out of the bag. She shuffled back to the sink and got the detachable hose sprayer on the sink.
"You know what Casey." I put on an innocent smile.
"What if I don't?" She only glared and flipped on the water supply.
"Take one more step, I dare you." She held the sprayer like a high power gun, straight at my face. I throw the fist full of flower at her just as she presses the trigger on the sprayer. My aim was great, straight to the face, and unfortunately, so was hers.
I gasped for air after the stream of water stopped. I looked at her flower covered face that was clouded with worry. I cracked a huge smirk and glared at her.
"Ooh you're gunna get it now." Her eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights as I shoved my hand in the bag for more flower. She let out a shill squeal and started dodging handfuls of flour flying at her. She snatched the bag of flour from my hands and started shoveling flour back at me. I didn't my best to dodge them, but to no avail.
"What smell so good in- CASEY OH MY GOD WHAT DID YOU DO." Parker stood in the doorway; paint covering his hands and shirt. Skylar and I froze; Skylar mid toss, and me just about to spray her again with the hose. We must have looked insane; flour caking our faces like low budget ghost, clothes soaked and flour coated, the floors covered in wet clumps of a failed attempt at making cookies.
"Lasagne?" I said sheepishly.