I Had A Goat With No Nose

Worthy Opponents (part 1)

She sat on the roof above the front porch watching the people below flick their lighters. The one in green had Parliaments. Red Hat had Camel Lights. And -oh!- Blue Shoes had Camel No. 9's.

"62 days," she said out loud to no one in particular. "62 freakin' days. Will not give in."

"You holding a private AA meeting up here, or can anyone join?" She jumped at the voice behind her, and scooted over a bit as the stranger joined her on her perch.

"I quit smoking. 62 days ago. I have been a non-smoker for 62 days.” He shot her a lop-sided grin, but quickly pulled it back into a straight face.

"So wait, how long has it been?" She quirked an eyebrow and leaned back a little to get a better look at her new friend.

"You know, you're pretty snarky for someone I just met 30 seconds ago... who still doesn't have a name."

"Hi. My name's Connor." He extended his hand.

"Hi. I'm Tasha, and I'm an alcoholic." She took it, and they both smiled.

"Well," he continued, still shaking her hand, "Now that we're old friends, can I ask why you're sitting alone on the roof chanting your sobriety mantra?" Not wanting to give in (she saw somewhere that being the first to release a handshake was a sign of weakness) she kept on shaking.

"I'm not the biggest fan of parties." Apparently he had seen the same thing she had.

"What, do you go all 'I'm covered in pig's blood, let's kill everybody at the Prom?'" Still shaking.

"No, it's more like, 'I need to get out of here or the giant evil bunny is going to convince me you're all involved in a high-stakes conspiracy.'" Her arm was starting to get tired.

"The conversation will distract you and I WILL win." He narrowed his eyes and the right side of his mouth curved into a devilish little smirk. She matched it with one of her own.

"Did you know that showing one's teeth is a sign of inferiority in chimpanzees?" She countered, watching as his lips began to pull into a full-blown smile.

"I can see that you are a worthy opponent, Tasha, but unfortunately all competition must be crushed." She would have been creeped out if it weren't for the smile that had crept its way up to his eyes. She couldn't quite make out their color in the dim light cast by the other houses on the street and the few passing cars. She'd have to remember to look again if she saw him back inside. Big if. Inside was full of sweaty, gyrating bodies holding red plastic cups, waiting for their turn to puke in the tiny purple bathroom.

"The strong, silent type, I see." Woops, She had gotten lost in her head. Again. Focus. Respond.

"No, just trying to psych you out. Lulling you into a false sense of security. That's when I'll make my move." If the wink she threw at him caught him off guard, he hid it well.

"Move, huh? You got moves?" This conversation was quickly taking a turn. But from what she could see of his face, and the feel of his hand in hers, it was a turn she wouldn't mind taking. She slid the grin from her face and maintained eye contact. With her free hand she reached down and grabbed the bottle of wine sitting at her feet. She brought it to her lips and took a long pull, never breaking from his eyes. Tasha set the bottle down without a sound, and wiped her bottom lip with two fingers.

"Maybe..." she said with a smile. The movement of his arm slowed to an almost stop, and finally his hand dropped from hers. His eyes narrowed again, but stayed a little unfocused.

"Cheater."

"How can I be a cheater if we never established any rules?" Now that she had put a crack in the facade, she kind of enjoyed seeing him blush. "Besides, all's fair in love and war..." But now it was her turn to get flustered.

"So which is it then, love or war?" But hey, she was nothing if not resilient.

"Which do you want it to be?" She was having a hard time holding in the laughter bubbling just below the surface. This conversation was ridiculous. She felt like she was on a bad WB show. If this guy was serious she needed to start thinking of an escape plan.

"Ooo, quite the choice..."

"Well?" Let's see, if he chooses war I'll say I'm a pacifist. If he says love... Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud snort as Connor leaned over laughing.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm really sorry, I just couldn't keep that going any longer. I was waiting for Patrick Dempsey to pop up and say 'Pick me, choose me, love me!'" As relieved as she was that he had been taking this just about as seriously as she had, she couldn't let that go.

"Um, did you just make a Grey's Anatomy reference?" He blushed a little and waved his right hand, as if disregarding everything he had just said.

"I did, but it was just to make sure you'd grasp the concept. I was going to go for a John Cusack reference, but I'm always a little hesitant to throw those out in conversation with someone whose pop culture knowledge I'm not clear on." He smiled begrudgingly, but she wasn't about to back down.

"Our entire interaction up until then was based on a joke from The Office. Shouldn't that have said a little something about the depth of my involvement in Popular Culture?"

"I apologize," he said, as he bowed a little. "I should have been a better judge of your depth." Oh no. She had to...

"That's what she said." Between fits of laughing and coughing he finally managed to choke out a strangled, "Touché." What had she gotten herself into? When they had both stopped wheezing and their breathing had returned to normal, Connor turned to Tasha looking suddenly nervous.

"So..." Here it comes, she thought. The Proposition. He had told the standard number of jokes, made her smile, now he would ask if she wanted to go 'explore the rest of the house, see if they could find somewhere more comfortable.' She was so busy coming up with an excuse that she almost didn't hear him continue.

"Let me preface this by saying that I'm not an ex-con, my car doors do open from the inside, and I'm not going to leave you in a field somewhere."

"You're off to a great start here, Connor..."

"What can I say, I know just what the ladies want to hear." She laughed a little as he polished his fingernails on his shirt. "Which is why I'm going to give you this lovely offer." He put his hands out in front of him, palms up, as if presenting her with a gift.

"Offer away."

"I have a car. I have not been drinking. I have four dollars. I am starving. Would you like to go with me to Taco Bell?" Tasha looked at Connor, her face completely emotionless.

"Connor, not only will I go with you, but I will buy you a caramel apple empanada." His face turned serious as he grabbed her hand.

"This is definitely not war." He kept a hold of her hand as they scrambled back up the roof to the second story window they had originally climbed out of. The undeniably collegiate bedroom was dark, and Tasha realized she still hadn't gotten a good look at her companion. They made their way into the hall leading to the stairwell, Tasha stealing glances whenever she could. He was walking in front of her, so only one side was available for inspection.

Tall. Very, very tall. He had to be at least 6'3". His shoulders were broad under a black hoodie, his hands shoved into the pockets. Peeking out at both the top and bottom she could see hints of a blue and white striped button up. Her eyes continued down, following his slender hips to a pair of light jeans with a small hole next to the left pocket. She could see a hint of his boxers when he put his left leg forward.

Green.

She was smiling at them when he turned his head a little to the right.

"You still with me back there, Ace?" A small smile played on the corner of his mouth that she could see. She would have killed for a great, witty comeback at this point, but the best she could come up with was, "Oh, you betcha." As she looked up with her response she watched as his head turned back forward. Damn. She had missed it. But his hair caught her eye as it moved against the collar of his oxford. The small curls running along the nape of his neck were itching to be sprung, and she fought to keep her hands at her sides. She had never been big on the shag look but the way his dark waves bounced just the tiniest bit as he hopped down the stairs, she was willing to convert. Tasha was so engrossed in wondering whether this was his natural hair color, she didn't notice a discarded coat on the next step. She landed gracelessly at Connor's feet at the bottom of the stairs. And that's when she saw them.

posted by emily @ 1:47 AM