I Became Her

Chapter 18 -The Chatterbox-

“Who are you running from?” A woman’s voice sounded from behind me.

I spin to see who that voice belongs to, and my mouth nearly falls open when I see her. She is gorgeous, with light make-up suitable for gym and hair tied on top of her head with loose strands grazing her bare shoulders. She has a very fortunate gene collection, I can see.

“Hi?” I just mumble quietly, not knowing why she came to talk to me in the first place.

“You ran like your life depended on it,” she said, and I gave her a smile as a response because what do you answer to that?

I’ve never been a social butterfly, so I walk away from that interaction. I don’t know how to make conversation flow or how to be this carefree person who can talk about anything with anyone.

“You forgot your shoes,” she yells after me, and when I turn back, I see her looking around the treadmill to find the shoes I didn’t bring. She looks at me and then back at my feet only covered by a pair of socks and realizes her mistake. “Never mind,” she dismissed the whole situation and stepped on the treadmill minding her own business.

My face as red as boiled lobster, I walk out of the gym and back to my place. Why do I feel like a teenager about not having proper shoes? It’s stupid. I can run with just socks on if I want to. I let out a breath and march my sweaty butt in the shower to rinse away my lack of self-confidence.

I’ve been away from society for so long that it feels like there is a huge abyss separating me from it. Hell with it, I will jump over it if I need to. I turn off the water and dry myself in a hurry before getting dressed. I take some of the money from the envelope and head out, ready to jump over the abyss.

This is the first time I am outside alone and even though I had a great plan to go shopping, now I feel like a fool, I have no idea where exactly I am or where I should go. Is this even a safe neighborhood? Should I go and ask Kane for help?

“Sorry about earlier. I can be annoying, I know,” the girl from before stands next to me when I am in the middle of asking mental questions from myself.

“That’s fine,” I answer with words this time and she smiles with her perfect set of white teeth. Like there was any chance they wouldn’t be perfect when she is the embodiment of flawlessness.

“You look lost,” she says. Maybe her only flaw would be that she isn’t good at asking questions you can actually answer and instead she states the obvious leaving you look dumb with nothing to reply.

“I am.” I’ve been lost for several weeks now, I think to myself.

“Can I take you somewhere?” This time she forms an answerable question.

“I am new to this area so can you point me to the nearest clothing store?” No help needed, just directions.

“Going to buy sneakers?” her laughter tells me she is joking, so I let her comment slide past me. “Come on. I’ll join you. I know few places with discounts you won’t believe,” she says while already walking towards a car I suspect belongs to her. “I am Talia by the way,” she shouts over her shoulder.

I have about two seconds to make a choice between stay or go. Can I trust her? Where is she taking me? How will I get back? Only questions, no answers. Story of my life, I suppose.

Two seconds are up, and I am following her to her car. Let’s see if I made the right choice to trust a stranger.

She is very talkative, and I barely get a word or two into our conversation when she is already talking over me. She was right, she can be annoying, but with time it started to be more funny than annoying. Her topics covered her childhood, teen years, pets and what not, but when she started to talk about her job in Vegas, that’s when she got my undivided attention.

“It’s not what I dreamed of when I was young, yet here I am, and I can’t really complain. I own my own apartment, car and a savings account. Not too bad I’d say.” She parked the car and steps out; I follow her just to hear more about how she accomplished all that.

“So, like a prostitute?” I ask quietly, not to feed the nosiness of people around us.

“No, silly,” she started to laugh and waved her hand to dismiss my question. “Being a private escort is not like that. There is no kind of s*x involved, well, if you don’t want to,” she winks naughtily, but I let it slip since I don’t find it funny. “You are just arm candy to them, someone beautiful and delicate they can show off. And when the time they paid for is up, you’ll pull a Cinderella on them and run.”

Now I remember where I heard it. Yasmine was talking about the same thing at her father’s party. So, this really is a thing.

“How do you become one?” Not that I want to be an escort, but why not become one? I am young, not painful to look at and I can learn how to pretend like there is no tomorrow. I don’t need the money as of today’s morning, but I could use a few connections in high places.

“Oh, don’t go down that road. I was lucky and I have a couple of regulars that pay well, so I don’t need new customers. With every new guy there is a risk of them being assholes.” She shivered her shoulders like recalling something bad. “Some of them can be real assholes.”

“Okay, but if your known connections need someone, feel free to call me,” I said the words and then remembered that I don’t even own a phone. I really need to step up my new start like Shai advised.

She just stared at me like I asked her to give me her firstborn, so I guess my last suggestion was way off here. And maybe she is right. How can I cozy up to guys who pay for their dates? They may not be r****g them, but somehow paying for a date seems wrong anyway. Or perhaps I am just that damaged. Oh god. No perhaps. I am damaged and even suggesting that I should go on a date with a stranger is now hitting me hard. Why is my brain like that? How can I even think about doing that? This exact stupidity is the reason I am in the situation I am.

After that interaction, our shopping tour is quite eventless. I manage to spend most of the money I brought with me while Talia was playing dress up with me. She chose most of my clothes and I trusted her style. She seems little more at home with current trends and what not to do-s.

“Anything else?” She asks while walking out of the third store today.

“I think I am done,” I say with a tired voice because I am exhausted. This whole getting undressed and then dressed again and then again and again is more tiring than one hour on the Stairmaster. I don’t want to see any more dresses or tops; I want to lie down and close my eyes for a few hours.

“I’ll take you back then.” She said and hurried to her car without waiting for me to resist her kind offer.

“I can take a cab,” I say running after her.

She stops abruptly and turns to face me. “Okay. And where is that cab taking you exactly?” one of her eyebrows rises and that smug smile on her face tells me she knows I don’t have a legit answer for her.

I squint my eyes at her and walk up to the car. “Can we go already?” I hear her laughter echoing in the parking lot before I sit in the car.

“I forgot my phone there, so I need to go back anyway,” she finally says. Do I believe her? Not a hundred percent, but I am not going to call her a liar either.

When she pulls her car into Kane’s gym parking lot, I look at the huge ‘Damnbell’ sign again and this time I try to memorize it, so I could pass the test next time I am called out on a bluff. It shouldn’t be too hard to memorize, but my brain can be like an avocado, perfect one minute, then rotten and useless the next. I make a mental note to write the name and the address down somewhere, just to be one step ahead.

While I fetch my bags from the backseat, Talia runs inside and when returning she waves her phone at me. Either she is a very good actress, or she actually forgot her phone. But it doesn’t even matter, I am here and today turned out better than expected.

She drives off and I watch her leave. There’s something odd about making new acquaintances while being an adult. So many things to consider. Do our interests and views match? Maybe our schedules and lifestyles don’t. Is she even a good person? So many questions go through your head before you accept someone new as a friend. Why can’t we be more like kids, they see another kid and that is their new friend. Very uncomplicated, very fresh.

“Lex?” Kane’s shouting rips my line of thought in half. When my eyes find him, he is waving me to walk up to him and I nod, letting him know I am coming.

“Our first lesson will be at eight, tonight.”