Something in the Way You Move [O'J]

Getting Ready (Part 2)

Danny's POV

"So your friends didn't like you stuck on cloud nine, eh?" Callie questions, making me jump. She's so damn quiet!

"Guess not," I reply, laughing quietly.

"They're just jealous," she says, grinning drily.

"Well, Mark, no, he's married, but Glen...Glen maybe!"

"So what are you going to do for the next few hours?"

I look at the clock on the wall. It's only 3 in the afternoon; I have at least another two hours before I have to get ready. "I don't know." She sits down on the couch, closing her eyes and pressing her fingertips together. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"About?"

"My dad. He'd pretend to freak out on you if you ever said that you didn't know something, saying that you were one of them and then he'd run away screaming." She smiles at the memory. "Your turn. Tell me a memory from your childhood."

I sit down on the couch next to her and think for a little while. "Well, when I was a little older than you are now, my dad tried to teach me and my siblings to play poker. He sat us all down at a small, circular table and gave us our hands and told us what was best and what basically sucked and taught us how to bet and how to bluff. But, since we were kids, we really sucked at bluffing, ya know? He could tell we were bluffing by our reactions to having a pressure point near the knee squeezed. The bigger the bluff, the more violent the reaction because we were all nervous. Granted, we weren't playing for anything, but still...we freaked when our bluffs were called!"

She grins, and we end up telling each other stories for two hours more before I realize I have to get ready. I hurry and jump in the shower. After about twenty minutes or so, I get out of the shower to realize I only brought my boxers into the bathroom...again. I need to learn to bring my outfit into the bathroom....Anyways, I put my boxers on and wrap a towel around my waist even though I don't have to. I head out into my room and stare at my closet, trying to decide what to wear. After five minutes, I still haven't decided. I grumble to myself, "For fuck's sake, I'm a guy; it shouldn't take me this long to decide on an outfit!" An idea occurs to me. "Callie? Could you come here?"

She enters the room and stops short when she sees me in my towel. "Please tell me you're---"

"Wearing boxers under this? Yes. Yes I am," I state. "Could you---"

"Help you pick out an outfit?"

"Well...yeah..."

She puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head, grinning. "You must be pretty desperate to be askin' an eight year old for an outfit! But yeah, sure, I'll get something. Go do your hair or whatever."

I stand in front of the mirror, fiddling with my hair for a minute or two. I gel it up like I usually do before turning to look at Callie. She browses through my shirts, having thrown a pair of black skinny jeans on the bed, for a while. Eventually, she comes to a solid, dark grey t-shirt, and tosses it on the bed. I nod my thanks as I pull on my pants and shirt. I notice the shirt's rather...snug. "Callie, I don't know about the shirt; it's old and tight..."

"Did you not see the way she was looking at you when you were changing? Trust me, she likes your body; your shirt just shows off whatever muscles you've got." I must look skeptical, because she throws her hands in the air and cries in exasperation, "Fine, don't listen to me! You can always pick your own outfit; you are a grown man!" The realization of what she said dawns on her, and she looks scared and I notice she shifts a leg backwards, as if to turn and run. She has her hands out to me, but close to her body, as if she were going to defend herself from blows. I hate whatever sick bastard made her fear men like this.

"Hey, hey, it's fine. Don't worry, really; I like it a lot, it's just that I don't really think I'm muscular..." I explain gently. I take a few steps back, raising my own hands to show her I won't hurt her. She gives me the evils and I take a few more steps back. "Callie, I'm going to call Glen and see if he'll come and watch you, okay? I don't want you on the streets or home alone; you're just too young." After a few minutes, she nods warily. I take out my phone and call Glen.

"Dan?"

"Glen?"

"What's up?"

"Could you come by and watch Callie? I don't want to leave her alone; she's too young."

"Yeah, sure. I'll swing by in five minutes."

"Cool, thanks."

"No problem."

We hang up and I say quietly to Callie, "Glen will be over in five, and I'll be leaving then. You'll be okay with Glen? If I recall correctly, you seemed to like him marginally better than Mark."

She sighs quietly before murmuring, "I'll be okay." She sits on the edge of my bed, playing with her hands in her lap. I go over to her and kneel in front of her.

"Promise me you'll call me if you need anything and you're uncomfortable with Glen?" I ask her, gripping her wrists lightly and looking up into her bright green eyes. Neither of us break eye contact until she nods slowly. I release her and write my number down on a piece of paper and give it to her. She reads it and puts it in her pocket. The two of us sit in silence until Glen knocks on my door. I get up and let him in. "Hey, Glen. Thanks for doing this."

"No problem, Danny. Now, I believe you have a date to be getting to?" he responds, grinning cheekily.

I punch him playfully and answer, "Yeah, I do! I'll be off, then!" I grab my coat and hurry out the door.