“Isn’t that what you wanted?” I asked, looking puzzled as well. “I thought you wanted to go somewhere private to do just that.”
“No, I mean, I don’t know,” Tara said, breathing heavily, “I just thought it would be easier to talk if we were somewhere more private. You took me totally by surprise.” She looked at me with curiosity in her eyes, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her purse. She asked me if I wanted one, and I declined saying I only smoked Marlboro Reds. I noticed she smoked Virginia Slims 120s and I thought to myself, how typically feminine. I took out a cigarette and we both puffed away.
“Do you think I’m a good kisser?” I said, winking at her.
“What’s your name?” she blurted out, and then laughed. “I’ve kissed you and held your hand and I don’t even know your name.”
“Matilda,” I laughed, blowing out a cloud of smoke into the air. “But you can call me Mattie or Matt, whichever you prefer….that’s what my friends call me. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” she said, seeming more relaxed now. “You can ask me anything.”
“Well, have you ever kissed a woman before?”
She thought for a moment and answered, “No, unless you count my high school prom where I got really drunk and kissed my best friend on a dare.”
“Can I kiss you again?” I said, feeling bold. She ignored me and said, “Look we’re here!”
“At my house, isn’t it pretty?”
“Let’s go inside,” I said, ignoring her this time. “I need to sit down.”
“Sure,” As soon as the word came out of her mouth, I stomped out my cigarette and followed her inside the door to her house. Oh my god, I thought to myself when we got inside, Gag me with a spoon! Who does this woman think she is, freaking Martha Stewart? Her house looked perfect, right down to the grandfather clock in her living room. Just as I was looking at it, it chimed midnight. I jumped, and almost knocked over an antique-looking vase sitting on a corner table. “I have to run upstairs for a minute, sweetie. Help yourself to a drink at the bar in the kitchen while you’re waiting.” She dropped her purse on the sofa, slipped off her heels, and ran up the stairs.
As I walked towards the kitchen, I caught my reflection in a mirror on the wall. Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all? Not you, you mother fucker…I thought, laughing to myself. I had short blonde hair with pink streaks and green eyes. I was on the short side myself, about 5 feet tall, a little taller if I wore heels. I hardly ever wore heels though, they just weren’t my style. Tonight I was wearing a pink suit that matched the pink highlights in my hair. I had on hot pink lingerie too. I wished I could show Tara my underwear, but would it ever get that far? That was the question of the night. When I got to the kitchen, I noticed she was pretty well stocked with alcohol. Mattie, I thought, you have it made. I took down a large glass bottle of Bacardi rum and searched the kitchen for soda. There was a case of cherry cokes sitting on the counter next to the refrigerator. Mmmm…. I thought, that sounds really good. I mixed myself a rum and cherry coke, drank the whole thing and then mixed another. I was feeling the buzz already when I walked back into the living room. Tara was sitting on the sofa, in a button-down shirt and jeans and holding another cigarette. She still looked sexy, and I was starting to get hot under the collar. “Hi, Mattie,” she said, and winked. “I see you made yourself a drink.”
“Yeah….do you want me to go make you one?”
“Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
I made the drink, came back with it, and handed it to her. Tara took a small sip, smiled, than took a bigger sip. “Mmmmm, Mattie this is wonderful! What is it?”
“Bacardi and Cherry Coke.”
“Mmmm…. You have good taste.”
I grinned and replied, “I came home with you didn’t I?”