This choice: “But yeah, I plan on having a party at my place to celebrate!” • Go Back... (Originally written by oldshep   )
"But yeah, I plan on having a party at my place to celebrate!" he says cheerily.
You pretend to think it over, scratching your chin. "Hmm, I dunno..."
"C'mon, little guy," he pleads, though you have half a mind to think he's just playing along.
"Okay, fine fine," you concede, putting your hands into the air in 'defeat.' "Who else is going?"
"Hmm, so far, just you, me, couple of the guys from the gym-"
"Ugh, your meat-head pals?" you say with mock disgust. You didn't really dislike them, they're all a bunch of swell guys, it's just... when you stand next to them, you feel like you're about to get squashed. Those guys were just as serious about lifting as Rex was.
"Let's see, some of our friends from high school.... Hmm, and just about anyone else who wants to come. Heck, you can invite anyone."
"Anyone?" you say with a raised eyebrow.
"Anyone," he states while scarfing down another forkful.
"Even my mom?" you giggle. Your parents moved away, after you graduated high school and started college, taking your younger siblings with them. You sort of miss them at times, but you know you're always just a phone call away. And though they haven't been the most supportive of you dropping out of pre-vet and pursuing your dream at becoming a chef, they send you hugs and kisses over the wire regardless.
"Heh, if you want to get on a plane to go get her, fine."
You shake your head and turn around, waving at the bull as you had to get back to work. You turn around briefly and say, "See you tonight!" as you duck back into the kitchen.
You get back to work, starting on the ginormous pile that's been accumulating ever since you left, half of them coming from Rex's table. You use the high power dishwashing sprayer to blast the remaining food off the plates, making sure everything is squeaky clean. After all, dirty dishes look bad for a restaurant of yours caliber. You call it 'yours,' even though it isn't. Though one day, you'd like one just like it.
Just then the door swings open, a modestly dressed raccoon girl busting in, her arms full of empty plates. It looks like she's struggling and you can see one plate beginning to tumble off the side. You rush and catch it.
"Whew, thanks," she huffs. "Man, Hoover's at it again." You chuckle at the name and you know whose table she has, Rex did have a tendency to suck up his food just like a vacuum.
"Heh, no probs, Jan," you reply. You never did get a chance to ask her for her full name, even though you've known her for years; Janine, Janet, Janiqua... okay maybe not the last one. You met her when you first went to college, she was a grad student leading tutorials for an English course you had to take. However, she couldn't exactly find work in the field of whatever she wrote her thesis on. Outside of a university job, which she dreaded, no one wanted to hire her, so she ended up here waiting on tables. You may or may not have had a crush on her back in the day, but now you're comfortable with just being co-workers and good friends with her.
"So what'd you guys talk about, the big guy finally ask you out?"
"N-no," you stammer, almost a bit too quickly.
"Ha, whatever you say," she jibes, elbowing your ribs as she dumps some of the leftover food into the garbage before handing the plates off to you to add to your growing pile. "No, seriously, what's up?"
"Mm, he's throwing a party," you say slowly, letting the words roll off your tongue, letting the raccoon eat them up in suspense.
Like lightning she replies. "Can I come?"
"Only if you're the driver," you scoff. She harrumphs and begins to turns away. "I'm kidding, kidding. I'll probably crash at his place anyways if it gets too late."
"Yes! Why don't we hang at my place 'til then and bus it together? He's near campus right?" Luckily for you, her flat's nearby and you both have the same shifts a couple times a week, today being one of them. Sometime's you'd just go to her place and hang. Sometimes even playing a little game you two do, searching the web for guys (and gals) you thought were hot, something you would never do with a guy friend. And there was also that one time she tried to get you into bed... but you didn't want to think of that; the thought of getting nasty with someone who used to grade your papers and all.
You sigh, "Sure." You really didn't have anything better to do and Jan's good company - when she keeps her paws to herself.
"So what's the occasion?"
You huff a bit in annoyance, she's a nosy one. "He beat the college record for the bench press today."
"He's celebrating for that?" she scoffs.
"Coming from the girl who held a party to celebrate Shakespeare's birthday..."
"Shut up. We had plenty of vodka," she replies matter-of-factly. "Hmm, come to think of it, didn't Coach Carter set that record like ten years ago or something?"
You gulp at the name. You've never met the guy, but you've definitely heard of his track record. The guy used to go to the same university that Rex attends and the one you dropped out of. As team captain, the gigantic tiger led the university to notoriety as a break out team that came out of nowhere with its impenetrable defense. And ever since he came back from the NFL to coach football at the college level, the university's standings in the conference have skyrocketed.
Not to mention you and Jan googled him once, both of you ogling the beast of a tiger's body that strained through his clothes. There are rumors that circulate around about the guy every now and then, how he ate steroids for breakfast, cell-tech for lunch and growth hormones for dinner. There is no way Rex could out-lift a guy like this, their sizes are comparable back when the the big cat was a junior at college, but photos from the tiger's senior year show him being absolutely huge. Hell, you and the raccoon must have scrolled through dozens of pictures, the tiger's golden years as a linebacker in the big leagues to now, pictures of the, dare you say, incredibly handsome hulking tiger in his mid thirties roaring at his boys during a match. On of a scale from 1 to 10, you and Jan put him at a nine for sexiness in your books, both of you liking your men big. Of course, the perfect ten's reserved for Coach Carter's alleged husband, Jared Kuznetsov, the current Mr. Olympia and Hollywood actor - and Jan's celebrity crush.
You pop yourself out of your little daydream and shake your head "I guess so," you say as your reply with a shrug.
"Well, I better get back out there... he better tip well," she says with a sigh. "See you after service."
You wave at her goodbye and continue to do your duty. A couple times the owner comes in and talks with the sous chef who's in charge of the lunch service, their heads bobbing your way every now and then. You pick up the pace, wanting to make a good impression. Really hoping they'd bump you up some day soon. You cross your fingers, maybe even today. However, today doesn't seem to be your day, the owner walking by you, giving you a friendly greeting and a pat on the back, telling you to keep up the good work. You feel a swell in your chest, never thinking you'd ever take pride in washing dishes, but for a moment, you do.
At the end of service, you meet up with Jan and a couple of the other co-workers taking a bite to eat from the meager staff meal before the dinner service starts. Of course, neither of you are staying for that and you both pack up and leave, walking out into the afternoon sun.
"So... you're going to party dressed like that?" she asks, looking at your faded printed tee and washed up jeans.
"Yeah, why?"
"Hmm, just asking, 'cause you know, if you really want Rex to notice you..."
"Shut up," you joke, nudging at her. Though, you do look down and wonder.
"Well, we've got like what? Four hours to kill? Why don't we head to the mall, get you a nice shirt?"
"I dunno, Jan. I'm happy with the way I look." But are you? Just this morning you wished to be jacked and furry...
"Fine," she huffs. "We could always go back to my place and play our little 'game.'"
You snort at the statement. "Oh, and who do you have in mind?"
"Hmm, I was thinking that one biology prof, you know, the one you said you used to have for freshman biology?"
"Dr. Fessenden? I think he's married, Jan," you chuckle.
"Really? How come I've never seen the wife then?... Aw, c'mon, I know you think he's cute too."
"I dunno, but I've seen the ring. Maybe they're in the Secret Service or something?" You both laugh it off and continue on your way.
By the time you reach her apartment, you're about to open the door when she asks, "You sure you don't want to go shopping? Still got... three hours, forty seven minutes aaand... twenty-six seconds. I'll call a few friends."
"Hmm, bribery... Go to the mall with a bunch of people older than me... or be a pervert with my raccoon friend and looking at photographs of one of my profs... the choices, Jan."
You can't deny it, there's a certain glint in her eyes.
With a sigh, you concede. "Fine, I'll...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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