4-5-1 Single at a Bar

"Take me to bed now. Merry Christmas, big brother."

...take me to bed now, big brother.

...bed me now, big brother.

...now, big brother...

big brother...

"...Big brother."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, 'I wish I had a big brother now.' I'd love to have these wrapping around me, especially after draining someone else's wallet to get them. I bet a big brother like you'd be just the guy I could ask to spend that much. Here you go; any other assistance required?"

I looked down at the receipt; more than two hundred of my hard-earned dollars had been drained on the an even less significant piece of fabric and string than was gracing the bottom of my special bag. Words like "hand-made" and "one-of-a-kind" wasn't helping to do dull the pain any.

"Guy? You there?" the cashier asked. I looked up at her; it was the same girl, "Malenka," her name tag read.

"Huh? Yeah."

"Need another bag, or are you good with the one you've got?"

"Oh, that. You have anything small? Like, something I can tape shut and...?"

"Oh, I get you. Here." She folded the thing so the gusset was neatly arranged over the string, and placed it on the bottom of a hard bit of paper, which she began folding over until it was a colorful little wafer that opened out the center. "It's got a little hole to tie a note to. They're new this year, so she won't notice where they're from, not unless she's got her boyfriend getting her stuff from here, too."

"I don't think he's got her taste," I grumbled at the thought of Becky having a boyfriend, which I think I remember her mentioning once upon a time.

"Then, like I said, it's good she's got a brother like you as long as she's got such expensive taste. Have a nice day."

Here's another spot for a break time for those with sleepy feet and itchy arses.

I was still in a daze when I walked out. From the price? A little, yeah. But the dream, whoa. What was I trying to tell myself? It didn't matter; I knew I would go see her on Christmas day, and I knew she would be more than happy to break my heart. But it would be worth it just to see how she was dressed, just to touch her still-developing body.

"Derrick?"

"Cindy?"

I was just outside the shop, and a shapely girl had followed me out at speed. She saw my heartbroken expression and recoiled. "No, Sara," she answered, letting me down a little. A girlfriend sure could have come in handy then. "What's wrong?"

I said a few words, but it was mostly babble. The more I tried to arrange a thought, the more nonsensical it came out. In seconds, tears were exploding out of me, and Sara was clutching me tightly, letting me unload on her.

"Come on, let's get you inside somewhere. The bagel shop's close."

We got there, her drying my eyes as we walked, and she found us a secluded pair of chairs around a small table. "Two Charlottes!" she called to the counter rather than leave me to even try to think about food. "What's bothering you? Are you upset Cindy didn't ask you to go to the last dance? I thought you two weren't that serious about..."

I cut her off before she could get any steam built up. I told her about the dance, how Becky had showed up, how Riley popped her strange question to me, how it was a strange journey of sex that never once saw Becky's smile leaving my imagination through every girl I had my way with over the course of the early morning following the dance. How several days later, I thought I was bigger than the whole game she was playing, all until I saw her present of the panties.

How I was hopeless for her to play with how she wanted to, how I was trying to get back at her by buying an expensive replacement to cover her loss, how I just fell into the most surreal daydream of my life involving Becky's passion for me finally winning out over her malcontent.

I don't think I've ever told Cindy about my unhinging lust for my sister. Telling her would be the same as telling Sara, and Sara seemed rather surprised by my whole story. Though I had stopped blabbering and blubbing, she never came up with anything to say. Fortunately for her, the food arrived. We were both served a short mountain of something smelling delicious and wrapped between to large, soft, lightly toasted bagels.

"I wonder what a Raleigh tastes like," I said, completely distracted by the taste of the delicious sammich.

"It's named after an old employee," Sara explained. "She was fucking gorgeous; she worked here before becoming a model. This was her favorite; she invented it herself."

"A model, eating this?" I asked in disbelief. The thing had avocado, cheese, at least three different kinds of meat, delicious sauce...

"Sure. She was the one who got the place Tikki works at recognized.Tikki being the little White Japanese thing that likes taking pictures of naked girls. I'm rather fond of her.?te however she wanted to; didn't exercise herself to death; and every magazine, calender, commercial, or video that featured her had it written in their contracts that her images were to be in no way doctored."

"That's nothing new. 'Few Perfect' has been doing that for umpteen years."

"Not until she came along. You couldn't get printed unless your image was shopped back when she was getting started."

"What's it even matter being a model, then, if you can just print out a picture of anybody however you want?"

"That's what she said; but still, it was way past ridiculous. Now, thanks to her, we models can have our real bodies showing."

"Huh? What's this 'we' models?"

"That's what S... Cindy and I do. Didn't you know?"

"...I thought you guys worked in language or something. So, what does this model do now? In fact, what the hell does a model do when she stops modeling? Marry someone famous?"

"She did, yes, but hardly a year after she started. She died, though. Long time ago."

"Oh. Blond?"

"Red. Not ginger; I'm talking red, deep red. Color you can't get with dye, and I've tried. Pepper has hair like hers."

"Pepper?"

"My sister."

"Oh. I'm guessing that's how you can get into the studio whenever you want, right?" I asked, remembering the time she and Cindy had taken us there right before and after our first dance as an official pair.

"Yep. Another?"

"I'm fine. So, there's something I need to tell Cindy, and I don't know how she's gonna take it."

Sara looked shocked. "Do you wanna break up with her? Is that it?"

"No, of course not." In fact, before she had shown up earlier, I had forgotten all about her and her twin, my official girlfriend. To think I could've just dialed a number and had somebody to talk to. Two somebodies. Sara would've come running just as fast as Cindy, I bet. I really had no preference over either, except that I hadn't yet learned Cindy's true name, if you know what I mean. That was something I had shared with her twin instead.

"Another girl asked me if she could date me."

"I remember."

"Standing days, three, four times a month."

"Derrick, I'm a little surprised with you."

"You are?"

"How long did it take you to call Cindy once you got back from Macedonia?" She looked hurt. Deeply hurt. I'm guessing sympathetic pain runs between twins after all. These two, at least.

"About a week," I admitted, and suddenly I began feeling horrible. Shall we count the ways? No, let's not. Suffice to say, it's all fine and dandy to say,?et's fuck whomever wheneverwhen you've got something particularly delicious like Reo or a building full of cheerleaders lining up in front of your behemoth cock. But when the sweet (did I mention shapely?) Cindy is sitting in front of you (technically Sara, but remember they're very indistinguishable twins), all that reasoning seems to go down the toilet.

Rather than strike me down, she took hold of my hand under the table. "She really misses you. She's waiting for you to call her."

"I'm confused. Didn't we have an arrangement?"

"We... you guys did, you do, but have a heart. You were gone for months, neither of us knowing where you were. I was worried too. I was hoping you'd've let me know, though of course I expected you to go straight to Cindy, not me. How did we find out, Derrick?"

I hadn't thought about that. Again, I hadn't thought about the twins at all. What was left over of my obsession with Becky had been divided between a slew of things. Among them Salamandy, the twins' own sister. "You're right. Where is she, and how do I beg her to even talk to me again?"

"Get down on your knees and apologize to me to, begin with," Sara ordered.

I can't take much more of this weird shit going on. But then again, I didn't have so many friends that I could just turn them away when I slighted them, and I was rather surprised to learn how much Cindy really cared. I think what really pushed me to push my shame of begging in public away was thinking of Becky. Something Salamandy said to me: "What did you think she was going to think when she found out you had the hots for her, the way you treat girls?"

I should've listened instead of cutting her off. Too late; that was then, now is now. All I can do now is not turn Cindy into another Becky. Sara I took to be more forgiving, which should make the experience easier. But as emotional as Sara was being, I was rather scared at the thought of Cindy being any worse.

I was between her legs on my knees and holding her hands in mine. Her gray eyes were expressing a softness I hadn't seen in her. "Sara, even if this is supposed to be just a rehearsal, I want you to know that I never cared for you any less than Cindy, and no matter what I thought about either of you, I shouldn't've neglected to tell you for so long."

Her eyes were tearing up. Was she serious? I really had hurt her. What must Cindy be feeling? And then came the inevitable stupid thought: I didn't think she cared enough to feel anything, therefore it didn't occur to me to care in return. Shows you how much I know, my gentle audience.

"I won't ever take your friendship for granted again, and I'll do you one better: I'll become even better friends with you so that..."

She burst into tears. I took a writing course once, and in it I learned the difference between credibility and verisimilitude. The former has to do with actual credit built up between two people to determine how well one believes the other, while the latter is simply how well one person can convince another through choice words, facial expressions, and attitude.

Sara and I didn't exactly have a rapport, so she shouldn't know how well I may or may not stick to my word, but since I got back from that barren jungle it seems that everyone believes every word I say (putting Becky aside for the moment). No, I don't think everyone's feeling so sorry for me and viewing me as such a hero that I can't possibly lie, but that my time with Salamandy taught me to be sincere.

I've been talking my way into women's pants for five years or so now, yet it's this past few weeks back home where I only say what I mean, and the panties come flying off (literally; I've got a bag full of them).

Sara, for her part, seemed to believe me, and she seemed relieved so.

"I forgive you, Derrick," she sobbed, but she was getting her tears under control now, "only never let it happen again. I'm not asking for much, just that you keep me in mind, okay?"

"It's a promise," I said. And hey, even I believed me when I said it. How could I have ever forgotten someone so beautiful? Granted there was competition competition, but she had always been so good to me in the short time we knew each other. I guess I needed that good kick in the ass to find out just how fragile relationships are. "I just hope your sister..."

"Don't worry about her," she said, waving her off.

"But she..."

"You're my boyfriend; she'll be fine. Where's my kiss?" She pulled me back to my feet by our still-joined hands to lean over her seated figure, but I stopped her before our lips could meet.

"But what about Cindy?"

"I am Cindy, you blind fruit-bat," she said, and she kissed me then to keep me from saying anything more stupid.

I retook my seat, but I felt the need to sidle my chair up against the blond beauty, who turned out to be my number one after all. I actually missed her. "So..."

"I saw the look on your face, and panicked," she explained of her deception. "What are you going to do about this girl?"

Huh? "What girl?"

"Seriously, you have the attention span of a shark when it comes to dolphins," she sighed.

"Becky?"

"The girl you want to date."

"Cindy, I don't even want to think about that now, not after the way I've treated you. I can't think about it."

"Well, you'd better, because it sounds like she's got the hots for you, and if there's one thing you don't need right now, it's to be circled by a flock of angry dolphins. You should go to her."

"And do what? Date her? I'm dating you, and I'm not sorry about it."

"You're not dating me; we both know that. Even if we were, she's offering you something that I can't give you, and I know you need it, even if you're too much the gentleman to tell me. She doesn't even want to be your boyfriend, just a date once in a while, no harm done. All we have, plus sex, and the last thing I'd ever do is tell you you can't have sex because of me."

I regarded her through a lens of ignorance. She still didn't want me in bed? I had been sure it was just her way of telling me she wanted to wait, yet she was exactly the same as half a year ago. I had heard some silly claim that couples should wait at least eight months to do anything serious, never mind sex. I had entertained ideas that Cindy was simply waiting, but by all this time there should have been some opening.

The fact that I couldn't get her into bed had confused me to no end. Other girls I knew less and cared for less had no reservations. It made Cindy seem beyond me, beyond the call of sex. Either something wasn't quite right, or she genuinely didn't need sex to be happy. Weird.

"I won't deny that I want her, but is now really the time to talk about it?"

"No matter how many girls you end up dating, only I'm your girlfriend. You can talk to me about anything. You could tell me if you wanted to have a threesome with Sara if that's what was on your mind."

"I respect your decision not to have sex," I replied.

"Sure, just because you're getting plenty on the side," she giggled.

"Only until you say you want me all to yourself. What were you doing at Leslie's by the way? And why'd you hide until I got out?"

"I wasn't hiding; I just didn't see you."

"I'm rather hard to miss."

"I'm five-foot-six, you asshole! I can't see over those huge racks!"

I tickled her some to calm her down.

"But I was there to buy Sara's gift."

"I was under the impression that the best gifts were hand-made."

"Not when I get to wear them twelve times throughout the next year," she poked her tongue out at me.

"Huh?"

She whispered into my ear, "I bought it to wear for her when she undresses me Christmas morning."

"Oh. Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?"

That got her laughing. "Let's go, handsome. Let's find you a girl."

************

No one picked up the phone at Reo's house and neither of us knew where to look for her, so we just went to Julie's to dump our fat asses on the barstools.

"Glass of Riesling for the lady and the usual for me, my lovely," I ordered from the ever-desirable Jessie. Just looking at her still gave me tingles, but then again so did half the girls at the bar. Cindy more than the rest of them because of how well I knew her, but still. It made me think about everything that was out there, how truly large this world is, what there is for me to accomplish.

Don't forget there's Garnet and probably a town full of ass where she comes from, and the rest of the state besides. What am I doing here in this bar with a woman when I could be single at a bar? Not this bar maybe, but any bar.

"Cindy, do you ever have doubts about being in a permanent relationship?" I asked cautiously. I don't know why I hesitated; she'd more than once told me she was there for me in any way I could think of if I needed her.

She twirled her petite glass in her fine fingers. They and the rest of her was very finely cared-for for the purpose of her modeling career she apparently shared with her twin sister. Besides being the most beautiful creature since birth, she was all those things you see written on bathroom walls: short enough to look up at you and burrow her head into your chest yet enough leg to take hours staring at before you ever see her face, eyes of cloudy sky to match the plentiful curls falling forever across her slender shoulders, a large pair of breasts that are perfect for showing off yet never huge or cumbersome, and of course the golden cup of her pussy that everyone with a ticket to an art show can see but can never ever touch.

And here I am, wishing she wasn't getting in the way of me fucking anything that moved. Geesh; no wonder my sister wouldn't have anything to do with me. Sure, Becky fucks just as hard as I do, though she's the one who's always dating while she's screwing everything with the opposite plumbing.

Back to Cindy and me sitting at the bar. "Why do you think I'm with you, Derrick? Why I'm really with you?"

Her question was a nasty, false puzzle. I had always felt from the beginning like I'd been using her; but though she pretty much told me from the beginning she was using me, I thought her too pure and noble for that. Why? Because you're a stupid romantic fool, Gains. You can't look the truth in the face without pretending you can change her through some miraculous potion brewed up in the cauldron of your nut sack.

"So you can keep doing whatever you're doing without every guy in town hitting on you," I said honestly enough."

"In town? I travel for work, you know. It's just as bad everywhere else."

"But everywhere else you don't have me chasing all the boys away."

"...Yeah."

Dang. Talking to her can be depressing sometimes. More importantly, Reo hadn't chanced by. Also, I was missing hanging with my boys. I know it hasn't been long, yet I feel like the only time I see Bill is when we pass one-another by at his pad, Dree's working more than drinking, and I see more of Sam's sisters than Sam. I'm feeling a bit tied-down here.

"Cindy, do you..."

"...You wanna break up?"

Dammit, no. "I don't want to 'break up', but you gotta understand I just got back from a really long thingy where I had to live a bit differently, so I'm still disoriented. I can barely tie my shoes, I'm so out of it."

"So...?"

"So I... I don't really know." I polished off my brew, then rested my chin on my crossed arms. Cindy kept sipping at her wine politely and watching the big screen.

Then, about eight minutes later, she got to her feet. "You call me when you're feeling better, okay?"

Stupid me that I am, I took a moment or two to think about what she said before I actually looked over to her. All that was there was an empty glass.

"'Nother drink?" Jill asked when she came back down my way.

"Sure." She turned around, gave a little shimmy of ass while she refilled my glass. Why do I feel like I got run over by someone lurking in the parking lot, waiting for me? "Jill, what just happened?"

"You wanna break up with her, but you don't know it yet. Let me buy you one." The words rattled off her tongue like they'd been sitting there patiently, waiting for me to ask for them. She was ready with the bottle again as soon as my glass touched my coaster.