Everything is Green

Chapter 8

Unknown
How was the wine? 11:02pm

    Holy shit, it was her. You look at the time, it's now 1:56am. Shit, she probably thinks you ignored her. Maybe that's a good thing, you don't want to seem too interested...yet. You try to come up with a clever response, she's probably already asleep so you want her to wake up to a cheeky text from you.

You
My tongue didn't shrivel up and fall out of my mouth so take that as you will 1:56am

    You lightly chuckle to yourself at your response. You lock your phone and go to return it to your back pocket. As you move to do so, you hear it start ringing. You bring it back around to meet your eyes and see that the unknown number is now FaceTiming you. You furrow your eyebrows and look around as if you're looking directly into the camera of your own imaginary reality show. You hesitate to answer, nerves getting the better of you for a moment. You rub your cigarette on the side walk a few times, then step on it, putting it out. You don't want her to know you smoke yet. You take a deep breath and accept the incoming call.

"Hello?" you answer.

"Sorry I was driving home and couldn't text so I just decided to call you instead" the green eyed woman said, smiling at you. It was dark, but every now and then she would pass a street light that would shine through her sunroof, giving her face an orange glow. You couldn't see much, but her bright white teeth and her prominent cheekbones shining from the glow of the street lights made your heart beat flutter.

"That's okay, it's good to see your face— wait why are you out so late, its almost 2am" you asked.

"I just got done with my meeting, it ran a little long so I'm just now headed home" she answered.

"Meeting for what? That's a long ass meeting" you asked yet another question, this time with a small laugh.

"Oh it was just work stuff— wait where are you? Are you sitting next to a dumpster? Oh my god are you homeless?" She asks, genuine curiosity behind her words.

"A dumpster? Oh yeah, I guess that is a dumpster. But no I am not homeless you goof, I'm on my break at work— well I think I'm on break, I'm not really sure of the dynamics of that yet, todays my first day. I'm just sitting outside to get some air" you respond, this time full on laughing.

    The conversation goes on for a while. It was comfortable. You internally laugh at yourself for being nervous to answer the phone earlier. Talking to her was like talking to someone you've known for years, an old friend. As much as you would like to keep the conversation going forever, you remind yourself you have to get back to work. After all, it is your first day and you don't want Z and Frankie to think you ran off already. But, before you hang up, you're determined to finally get her name.

"Hey I have to go back to work soon, but can you please tell me your name now? Or are you going to let me keep calling you green bean forever?" You ask sarcastically.

"Well green bean was kind of growing on me, but fine. Here— I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you my name... if you show me your tattoos." She responds, now grinning cheekily.

"Wha— my tattoos? How did you even know I had tattoos?" You ask, truly shocked.

"I'm nosy remember? I heard you telling your not boyfriend you had some earlier" she says, now laughing.

"Well green eyes, if you were listening, you'd remember that I cannot just take off my clothes in public. Apparently that's still frowned upon" you say teasingly. She rolls her eyes and laughs at yet another nickname you gave her.

"I didn't say you had to show me right now blue eyes" she says mocking you "send me a picture when you get off, I'm sure I'll be asleep so I'll just text you tomorrow and tell you my name"

"Well hold on, how do I know you're not just using me for some weird tattoo fetish you have, then I'll never hear from you again?" You ask with a smirk.

"You don't. So deal?" She asks, putting her car in park, now looking directly into her camera.

"Deal. Bye green eyes, I have to go" you respond, standing up to go back inside.

"Bye blue eyes" she says in such a satisfyingly comfortable tone.

    With that, you make your way back over to the bar to apologize to Z and Frankie for taking too long outside. You try to come up with an excuse as to why, but your mind can only think about one thing right now, her.

    As you get closer to the bar, you're relieved that it's not busy anymore. You've missed half of DJ Snake's set, but you can't convince yourself to care very much. Frankie sees you first and offers you a huge smile. Good, they're not mad.

"God Y/N, we were about to send a search party out looking for you" Frankie says jokingly.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I got a call I have been expecting and lost track of time for a second" you respond apologetically.

"You're completely fine, the rush died off as soon as DJ Snake came out. Wait— a call at 2am? Ohhh was it a booty call? Wait again— do lesbians do booty calls?" Z asks, genuinely curious.

"No, not a booty call and yes, probably more often than you would think" you respond, laughing at her harmless confusion.

    The rest of your shift goes by rather quick. After DJ Snake's set was over, people started leaving in droves. It's now 4am, you just finished closing up the bar for the night and cashed out. You say your goodbyes to Z and Frankie and make your way home. Sometime throughout the night, they convinced Lenny to have you work with them from here on out. You're actually happy about it, its nice to know you've made new friends already.

    Your whole walk home is filled with thoughts of the woman you shared a phone call with earlier. Why does she want to see your tattoos? Especially tattoos that she knows are in a rather sensual area on your body? Maybe she was just interested in tattoos in general and was curious in your artwork choices. But you were flirting with each other on the phone, right? You've second guessed yourself now probably a million times. Your constant contradictions starting to get the better of you. You battle yourself with the thought that she was just being friendly, which is followed immediately by thoughts that she was definitely being more than friendly.

    You finally make it home and as soon as you walk into your apartment, you're hit with a level of exhaustion you haven't felt in years. But, you still have to take that picture of your tattoos. You head straight into the bathroom and take off your shirt, leaving you in only your push-up bra and jeans. You pause for a moment and have yet another internal battle. You contemplate putting your shirt back on and just lifting it up a little bit, thinking having it completely off might be a little too much.

    In the end, you decided to say fuck it. Shirt off, she asked for it. You lift your bra up a little with one hand so your butterfly can be seen completely. You snap a picture in the mirror with your other hand. You give the photo a good once over and decide it's good enough. The lighting gives your stomach a much more chiseled look than it actually is and the veins on your hand holding your bra are popping a little more than usual. You attach the photo to the message thread with the unnamed woman and type out a quick text to send along side it.

You
Attachment: Image 4:37am
Your turn 4:37am