"Just have to run a quick errand, okay, babe?" Phoenix looked over at Kelsey with a smile as he parked his car. It was a cool car, and Kelsey thought it reflected Phoenix perfectly. It was a silver 1955 Mercedes convertible with gull-wing doors and a red interior. Kelsey loved it, and loved to ride in it.
"Should I come in?" she asked. They were in Hollywood, but the old part, where the trees actually provided shade, and the houses had yards.
Phoenix looked at her speculatively, eyeing her leather miniskirt and white tank top. "Yeah, why not?" he said with a nod. "Give the fellows something to talk about, at any rate." He came around and lifted the door for her.
"Listen," he warned her as they walked up the steps. "Be very careful when we're inside, okay? There are some weird people here. Don't eat anything while we're here. Or drink anything they give you."
Kelsey stared at him as he rang the bell. "Are you serious?" she asked.
"As a heart attack, baby," he assured her.
Kelsey laughed, lifting her sunglasses to her head.
"I mean it, all right?" Phoenix said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"All right," Kelsey said, chastened by his tone.
The door was opened by a huge man with long, unkempt brown hair and a filthy pistolero mustache. "Phoenix, my man!" he cried.
"Swede!" Phoenix answered .
Phoenix and Kelsey entered, and Kelsey blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the very dark interior. There was a TV going, along with a stereo, and she could see at least seven people in the living room, watching cartoons. She wondered why someone didn't turn off the music, at least.
"Come on," Swede rumbled, moving his bulk through the room. "Let's head to the kitchen, it's quieter, and there's more light."
Phoenix took Kelsey's hand and they threaded their way through the crowded living room, around a corner, and into a kitchen, which was, for the moment, uninhabited, and brighter, as Swede had said.
"So who do we have here?" Swede said. He looked at Kelsey, eyeing her up and down, the way Phoenix had in the car, but without the humor. It was more of an appraisal, humorless, and Kelsey was suddenly glad she was meeting him here, in his house, as Phoenix's friend, and not, say, on the street at night. "You, young lady, are famous. You're a bona fide movie star, aren't you?"
"Guilty as charged," she answered, leaning into Phoenix, who put a reassuring arm around her.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Swede offered, opening the refrigerator. "We got beer, water, wine, Pepsi, milk--" he opened the carton, took a whiff, made a face, and said, "--never mind on the milk, sorry."
"No, we're fine," Phoenix said, pulling out a chair for Kelsey, who sat. "We're kind of in a hurry, though, buddy, so could we just take care of business? Would you mind?" He smiled at Swede, who was standing in front of the open fridge.
Swede smiled back, showing a mouthful of questionable teeth. "Fuck no, man, sorry. Let's step into my office and do this, then." And he gestured down the hallway.
"Sit tight, okay?" Phoenix said to Kelsey as the two men disappeared.
Kelsey looked around. It looked like a very disreputable frat house, or a seriously gone to seed rooming house. The sink was full of dirty dishes, but only bowls, glasses, and silverware. No pots, pans, or anything else used to actually prepare food. Some of the cupboards were open, and Kelsey could see at least seven or eight different open boxes of cereal, the sugary kind that children ate, along with every kind of PopTart made. She shifted her feet, and her foot came up with a sticky sound.
YOU ARE READING
Powering Through: A Sequel to Learning To Swim For Real
ChickLitKelsey and Jack have made it through the crucial, difficult first few months of their new relationship. Kelsey has survived a vicious assault, and achieved moral retribution against her attacker, while Jack has finally overcome his shyness and stepp...
