The Model

Ch.1 - The person in the café

Something's different today. It isn't the same cafe or the same coffee or the same people that sit here on my break. Just ... Something's different.

Now, I can't tell. But this person, two tables across from me, looks like a male. But this persons flawless, model type facial features, show me a female.

This person has chestnut colored hair, pulled back loosely in a messy fo-hawk, wearing no form of makeup, and gentlemen styled clothing you'd find at H&M or something. I stare for longer than I should and this person glances up, probably feeling watched by a creepy girl two tables across.

So embarrassed, I stuff my face into my book and read words, not understanding what they mean. When I have composed myself, I peak from over the book, and this person I was so desperately hiding from, disappeared like a ghost.

I scanned the cafe. No sign of this mystery person in sight. I feel antsy and nervous. I don't finish my coffee -because of this ridiculous feeling- and leave a tip on the table, walking into the busy streets of Los Angeles, with half a hope that I'll see this person again and the other half a hope that I'll never see this person again.

If I were lesbian, she'd be the person I'd date. But I'm straight. So why aren't men like this person? I feel so conflicted and try to reason with myself as I enter the editorial firm. But what's even more conflicting is that I considered her a possible candidate for a lesbian fantasy I'll never experience.

I need to get laid. That's my solution. If I can get her out of my head by getting laid, I'll do it more times than The Lord himself can say the ten hail Mary's.

I am sitting at my desk, scrolling through my contact list. I don't mean to sound like a whore, but I have mostly men in my phone. I find the name that never fails me. Drake. Not the rapper. He's a photographer.

Me: Hey :)

Drake: What's up?

Me: I'll cut to the chase

Drake: Shoot.

Me: I'm having lesbian fantasies and need to get laid.

I bite my lip as I hover over the send button. Closing my eyes, I press send and my phone buzzes. One eye opens, then the other follows to read what he said.

Drake: I'll totally bone you. But having those thoughts are more normal than you think.

Me: Thanks. But are you sure?

Drake: I'll be at your house tonight at ten.

I close my phone and search on Google: how many women have lesbian fantasies. I am shocked when I read the number percentile. Sixty percent of straight women are attracted to the same-sex. Who knew.

I chew my lip and clear my history. I don't need my boss trolling me about this. Given the fact that she is lesbian. How ironic. I sigh and start typing out a forum for the next weeks column on what else is going on in the world from what I've seen. Many read my columns. That's why I'm front and center.

But deadline after deadline only gives me time for eating, sleeping, and getting laid. No relationship can handle my work and no work will tolerate a relationship.

By the end of the day, I am mentally done with the world. Five o'clock means home and I intend to get home and eat. Maybe take a few shots and wait to get laid. I like that idea.

I smile as I walk to the elevator, thinking of getting laid.

"Mina, wait up," Peter says. I stop and turn. He's a handsome man. Charming and sweet. I have gone out a few times with him but he's not my type. We both know that. Still, after all that agreement, I can see he still wants something with me.

"How's your column coming along?" Peter asks. Coming ... How I'll relish that moment tonight.

"I just need to proofread it tonight and give it to her on Monday, you?" I smile as we enter the elevator together. Three other people accompany us down to the basement level of the building and walk in the parking lot. Peter has talked my ear off about plants. His original idea in life was to be a botanist or whatever but now he's stuck writing about them.

It isn't so terrible, given as though the "Tree Hugger" club are his frequent subscribers, he gets pretty good reviews and paid good money just to talk about plants.

"Well, see you Monday, Mina!" Peter is all smiles as he waves, walking past my Honda. I unlock the car and get in feeling just a quarter of the way relaxed. I start the engine and drive at record speed to my condo just twenty minutes from the city buildings and smog.

It's quiet here and the people are nice. I enjoy living here. I lived in a small town in Rhode Island, the seventy degree weather is much more ideal than what I endured before. I wonder if it's bad not to miss home. My mom and her husband number three are always traveling with his kids and my older brother, Clarke, is working in another country for another year. I don't have any friends anymore, and even my office-mates, aren't ideal.

I enter my condo and am greeted with safety. I'm greeted with assurance that this place is forever my solitude. I change out of my work clothes and get on my tight yoga pants and sports bra to amp up the desire I need for tonight.

It's time and Drake is never late. Just when I started thinking he'd bail on me, he gives me the usual three knocks. I skip to the door, open it wide and inviting, and see his eyes widen with want. I bite my lip and he's ready. Stepping in to not make a scene, the door is shut to a click and in a matter of seconds, his hands are on me grabbing me the way I like. His mouth kisses me all over as we walk and stammer to the couch.

Already half naked, I help him out if his grey shirt, his denim jeans, and watch him struggle out of his shoes and briefs. I undress as he rubs his length in front of me and when I am naked, I am eager and wide, ready for him. He yanks my body half off the couch, inserting himself inside of me. I gasp in pleasure and feel the repetitive motion of him going back and forth. He picks up speed and just when I know I'm about to orgasm, those girlish eyes flash in my brain.

My eyes open wide then close trying to give nothing away. I feel his length deepen and I moan but the moan isn't mine. It's ... Hers. I can see myself going down on her, her gasps, her hair tugging, my ...

"God, you're so wet!" He growls and I can feel the velocity picking up and I'm thrown around coming but to the thought of her fingers inside of me. I feel my body relax but my mind running wild.

"Was that good or what? Fastest time I think, too." Drake exhales and I can only nod, pretending it was as exhilarating as it usually is and should be.

Am I truly into girls now? Just because of this one girl I saw earlier today at the cafe? She only looked at me. Doesn't mean anything.

I try telling myself that as Drake helps himself to some water while I go to the bathroom to freshen up.

Will I ever see her at that cafe ever again?