A Dozen Dates
Authors: Missy Mitchell
A Dozen Dates
By Missy Mitchell
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Gemma stood in the crowded living space gazing curiously around at the elated party guests, fascinated, but at the same time being careful not to make eye-contact with them. She squeezed her boyfriend’s hand, taking comfort in his close vicinity and confidence.
She had only moved to the bustling coastal city four months earlier, emerging from a life of relative isolation; and the urban buzz, although exciting – intoxicating even, was to this out-of-town girl incredibly overwhelming.
Gemma drank the last sip of her tropical flavoured, pre-mixed drink and Greg wasted no time in offering to retrieve her, another... Unfortunately though, and much to her distress, his proficiency saw him release her hand and disappear amidst the crowd so fast that she hadn’t time to turn around and follow. She was left abandoned amidst a sea of energised party-goers, and she knew nobody.
The party was hosted, Greg had informed her; by the new owners of the house who had made the purchase with the intention of modernising and re-selling it at a profit – this celebration was to basically initiate their new venture. Greg was a friend of a friend of the host, and actually only knew several people himself, but, brazen as he was, he was able to promptly meet and influence several more. Gemma on the other hand, didn’t possess her boyfriend’s self-confidence and socialite dexterity, and instead, stood alone like a bump on a log... and feeling very conspicuous.
The Gold Coast was a modern developing city with a strong trend towards tourism. She loved the lifestyle it promised, but was still trying to find her niche. She tried to fit in... She read the local newspaper and kept up with local events and goings on, and she continually visited the beach and the plazas, particularly noting local customs and fashions. She read fashion magazines, watched movies and music clips, but instead of finding clarity she felt forever sucked into a churning whirlpool, around her a kaleidoscope of colour and style.
Attending college had helped a lot, for there the over-riding force of the whirlpool eased off and she could interact with her peers on a more personal and beneficial level. It was there that she discovered her latest face, and in an attempt to amalgamate into the new world around her, she had now been sporting it for almost a week. Emo! Well, semi-Emo... Tonight especially, she relied on this fad to provide for her a passage to social acceptance. She played her role... She was hip and Emo - she was
almost
convincing...
She gazed nervously at the other guests through eyes of smoky grey innocence, sunken beneath heavy mascara, darkish eyebrow pencil, excessive black eyeliner and shadow, smudged to give her that death-warmed-up, Gothic appearance. She tried hard to force a smile from her deep, ruby stained lips, which were normally sultry in their fullness, but at this moment pursed tightly budlike in complex anguish. Her hair was platinum blonde on top and ebony underneath and was fashionably stiff from a combination of too much bleaching, straightening and hairspray. She wore two small, anime type pig tails in the front, tied up with big red ribbons and wore the length out at the back – her fringe was straight and thick. But Gemma never stopped with the hair and make-up... Her attempt at Emo fashion was also expressed through her dress. On this evening she wore a beautiful corset, black, but with red panels covered with black lace down the front, and pulled tightly, accentuating her healthy waistline and pushing up her already magnanimous, rounded breasts. Her skirt, also black, was loosely fitting around the top and ruffled at the bottom of its generous length which all but covered her high-heeled lace-up boots and thigh high, black lace-top stockings. She accessorised with black, lacy, fingerless gloves, a necklace with a bat pendant and a couple of teardrop earrings with red costume gems, and finally a small but functional, black hip-bag.
Gemma became aware of her nervous habits, and acted quickly to correct her pigeon-toed stance and remove the finger from her mouth that she caught herself lightly sucking - she wiped the ruby lipstick hue her offending finger wore onto her skirt and determinedly cupped her hands behind her back so they couldn’t again betray her.
She looked around the room and observed the absence of furniture – the only household goods Gemma was aware of was a bar fridge, a microwave and a stereo, and a plastic outdoor setting on the patio. All the other chairs, people were warned to bring themselves – she remembered Greg throwing a couple in the back of the car before they left.
Gemma turned her head and searched for her beau but he still wasn’t to be seen and she dipped her eyes in despair. Then she felt it – like heat lasers penetrating her skin and she timidly turned her head back forward and lifted her eyes...
A young man stood but eight foot away from her, leaning up against the wall and comfortably holding a beer stubby in one hand. He was quite tall at almost six foot, considerably towering over her petite five foot five inch stature, and he was broad... Not the wide shoulders and skinny waist and butt type broad that you see in muscle magazines, but healthily broad - all the way down... A fact that announced itself through the simple plain white t-shirt that he magnificently filled out with a muscular chest and mid-section, and which burst with big strong, shapely arms and a thick neck. He wore faded denim jeans and a pair of thongs on his feet – confidently underdressed... His face was handsome with a rare strength in the bone structure, yet there was a youthful cuteness about him. His skin was lightly tanned and he was clean shaven, which left nothing to hide the small, sexy dimple on his chin or take away from his stern but sultry lips. His eyes were pale blue and were framed by brown eyebrows, a colour about a shade darker than his sandy-brown, short tidy wavy hair.
Gemma looked at his eyes and noticed him staring at her chest before glancing up at her and insignificantly grinning. His audacity startled her and her eyes widened, her breaths becoming short and erratic, her chest beginning to rise and fall considerably more dramatically. She looked away briefly, but turned back in time to see him helplessly lower his eyes again. His moist lips parted slightly as his mind absorbed the pleasing picture and then he smiled, satisfied... even humoured by the reaction he had incidentally provoked. He looked back up at her mortified face and hungrily bit his bottom lip. Then he took a mouthful of his beer, casually pushed himself off the wall and began to approach her.
Gemma stopped breathing for a few seconds and she looked away, contemplating whether or not she should run... She quickly turned back and saw he was still approaching – what was she going to do? Suddenly she heard a familiar voice, “Here you go Gorgeous...” It was Greg and he was handing her another drink, “Sorry I took so long – ran into an old friend...”
Gemma smiled, simply relieved she wasn’t alone anymore, and assured him, “That’s okay... I survived,” she stated as she reached out and interlocked her arm into his.
Greg, turned around and started talking to another man, and curious, Gemma carefully turned back to glance coyly at the understated wallflower. He had stopped, obviously sentient to the fact that she was not available, and evidently didn’t feel inclined to cut in... But he looked at her and smiled alluringly, even though his eyes divulged clear disappointment, and Gemma noticed how his eyebrows transformed into wriggly caterpillars as he frowned. She returned a tiny, soft smile and then curtailed her forbidden glance.
She gently clasped Greg’s arm and tried to focus on what he was talking about, but her curiosity got the better of her and with trepidation she dared to look back around - her admirer was gone...
Gemma followed Greg around and he introduced her to some of his friends and their girlfriends. She was a friendly girl, and once the ice was broken she could converse with humorous intelligence. In fact, people liked Gemma - there was really no need for her to be self-doubting, and part of her even knew this... It was just part of her merger with her new world and in time it would pass.
Over the next couple of hours, Greg administered a few more drinks, and as a result rendered Gemma’s appointments with the ladies room a bit more frequent... her saving grace - the alcohol also reduced her general angst and she didn’t mind taking these trips... In fact, each one became an adventure in its own right, packed full of exciting self-initiated introductions and soap operatic conversations.
Gemma used the toilet then entered the bathroom to wash her hands – there wasn’t even a hand towel, so she flicked them lightly over the sink then wiped them on her skirt. She looked into the mirror. Her hair was fine - it was so rigid it in fact had hardly moved at all, but her smudged eye make-up was looking a little too smudged. She reached inside of her hip bag and retrieved her eye shadow and tidied it up, and then she reapplied her ruby lipstick. Once satisfied she looked socially adequate, she exited and went to find Greg.
Gemma searched for him to no avail in both of the living areas, the kitchen and outside on the patio – she even checked the pool and surrounding yard, but still with no success... She asked some of his friends which he had introduced her to, and some of the friends they had made together that evening if they had seen him, but no-one seemed to have any information. Gemma got herself another drink and took a couple of deep breaths before embarking on her search again – then she found him... Embracing and kissing another – another that he had introduced to her earlier. Her name was Shelley and they were supposed to be old friends.
Gemma was crushed... “Greg!” she called pleadingly.
“Gem..! Hiiiii...” he returned loathsomely, unsure of what else he could say. Suddenly, aware of the predicament, Shelley burst into callous laughter. Greg briefly grinned but then regained his tranquil composure. He released Shelley, “Hey listen...”
“Greg! I told you not to do this!” another friend of his, Sandi, stated enthusiastically. “You should have told her first, you heartless piece of garbage.”
“Told me what?” Gemma inquired, ruffled to the core.
“Gem, come with me...” Greg requested and he took her by the arm.
“Don’t be too long, Greggy..!” Shelley called after him.
“You’re trash...” Sandi informed the antagonist before distantly following Greg and Gemma.
Greg took Gemma into one of the dark, empty bedrooms and closed the door. “Greg, what..?” Her eyes were wet.
Greg painfully stroked his fingers back through his hair to rest his hand on the back of his head, and announced, “Gemma, it’s not working out...”
“What..? Why..? When..?” Gemma asked anxiously between sniffles and Greg took hold of her drink and held it to her mouth.
“Here, take a mouthful,” he suggested in a compassionate voice, “And stop crying... You’re a fantastic chick, but I just need more than you can give me.”
“You’re breaking up with me?”
“I need sex, Gemma,” Greg informed her.
Gemma looked at him, “But I would have sex with you, Greg... I am ready now...”
“Really..?” Greg’s eyes flew open, sparkling with accomplishment.
“Yes...”
“I didn’t think you wanted to.”
“That was last month... I wasn’t ready then, but now I am...” Gemma assured him.
Greg studied her angelic face and smiled, “You want to give yourself to me..? Completely..?”
“Yes,” Gemma replied.
Greg beamed, “Okay...” Then he slid his hand around Gemma’s neck under her hair and brought her face into his and kissed her. Tears of relief rolled down her face and she lifted her arms up over his shoulders and caressed him as she allowed him to probe her mouth with his tongue.
Suddenly there was a commotion outside the door, “Is Greg in there? Greg..!” It was Shelley.
“Back away, Shelley...” Sandi ordered.
“Greg!” Shelley continued.
Greg pulled away from Gemma, “I better go calm her down...”
“Greg, don’t go.”
“I’ll be back in a minute...” Greg stated and he winked and gave her a quick peck on the lips before exiting and leaving her in the dark room.
Gemma watched Greg grab Shelley and forcibly lead her outside by the arm.
“Are you okay, Sweetie?” Sandi inquired as she coaxed her out.
“Yes, thank you,” Gemma answered and she managed a partial smile. “We worked it out... He’s just going to talk to her.”
“Say what..?” Sandi inquired with compassionate disapproval.
“We made up...”
“Gemma...” Sandi studied her, “Gemma..! Gem, oh Gem... You deserve better.” She raised her hand to stop Gemma from trying to justify anything and then continued, “That’s all I am going to say.”