Slim Jim and the Lotto Girl
"You got her to laugh, which is great, but now we need to make sure she sees you as date material and not just as a friend," Carlisle said as he handed me a container of fried rice. We were huddled around the table in the break room, long after closing. After hearing how successful my interaction with Lotto Girl had been, he wanted to capitalize on the victory. "Did you get any sex vibes from her?"
I watched as he shoveled a forkful of lo mein into his mouth. His usually perfect hair was a wild wave of blond around his head and his dark blue polo shirt was unbuttoned and askew.
"Are you okay, Carlisle? You seem a bit…off tonight," I mumbled, slipping the straw floating in my can of Mellow Yellow between my lips. He looked up at me and I noticed his pupils looked alarmingly large.
"Yeah, it's nothing. My doc switched my meds, so I'm self-medicating to help with the withdrawal symptoms," he said, spitting half-chewed Chinese food across the surface of the table. I covertly wiped it up and glared up at him.
"What does self-medicating entail?"
"Well, it starts with me calling my dealer and ends with the fucking munchies. You can figure out the shit in between," he said with a wink. I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth.
"Are you trying to tell me you're high?" I whispered, leaning closer in case Emmett or Jasper were still around. He nodded like a bobble head doll, his blond locks falling across his forehead with the motion. I let my plastic fork fall to the table and stared at the man I was paying to be my life coach.
"Dude, have you tried this lo mein? It is epic!" he moaned, taking another huge bite.
What the hell had I gotten myself into?
"Are you sure I should go back so soon?" I whispered as Carlisle led the way across the parking lot. After he finished the four quarts of food we'd ordered, he said he had a hankering for a slurpee.
"Yes! You gotta go for it. You never know when some other twenty-nine year-old virgin might step in and steal the skank away," he hissed excitedly. His grip on my arm was almost painful, but I realized my support was the only thing keeping him upright.
"Carlisle," I sighed, but he spun around and put his greasy finger over my lips.
"Do you hear that?" He cocked his head to the side. I quieted my breathing, but didn't hear a thing. "I think the worms in my ear are trying to talk to me."
"I think it might be time to get you to bed," I mumbled, attempting to steer him back toward his car. I didn't own a car, but I figured I could get his address off his license and drive him home. Hopefully he would be sober in the morning and could drive me back.
"Oh see, I knew you were a fudge packer."
I turned around at the sound of Lotto Girl's voice, accidentally sending Carlisle to the ground when he didn't have my arm to hold him up. He grunted in pain and then started laughing hysterically.
"The worms! They want me to sing to them!"
I ignored him as I looked across the asphalt to where she stood, her curvy body leaning against a beat-up Volvo.
"I am not an, er, fudge packer. This is my regional manager. He had a rough night and I was just trying to get him home before he got himself in trouble," I said, taking a deep breath when she pushed away from her car and glided over toward me. Her legs weren't long, but the added height from her heels helped to exaggerate the length of her stride.
"You're such a good guy, aren't you, Slim?" she cooed as she ran her nails across my jaw, sending shivers down my spine.
"I am what I am," I said simply. With the man in charge of my life talking to the invisible worms in his ear, I was flying blind. Was I supposed to act like an asshole? Did girls like that? She took a step back and sighed.
"You better get him home. He's tripping balls." She walked away without another word and I was left with a hard on and a boss who was apparently tripping balls…whatever that meant.
I squinted against the bright sun the next morning, stretching out as much as Carlisle's narrow couch would allow. His apartment had been easy enough to find the night before, but getting him inside and into bed had been a challenge. He was dead weight by the time we made it across town, still talking about singing worms and cursing his doctor for ever taking him off his meds. I was still unclear as to what medication he was talking about.
Having no idea if he lived with anyone, I opened his door cautiously, but the empty beer bottles and discarded pizza boxes in the kitchen made it clear he lived alone. His bed was unmade and I didn't bother covering him up after I tossed him onto the mattress. I wandered around his place for a bit before I crashed on the couch, but I hadn't learned anything about him I didn't already know from his assorted knickknacks.
I sat up and ran my hand through my hair. It was Sunday, and I thankfully had the day off. Glancing around, I spotted the time on the microwave and grimaced. Only eight. I knew after the night he'd had, Carlisle probably wouldn't be up for at least a few more hours. Maybe I could call a cab.
I jumped and turned around at the sound of the cheerful voice behind me. Standing in the now-open front door was a beautiful woman dressed to the nines. A black and white polka dot sundress wrapped around her, showing off her toned arms and long legs. Her caramel colored hair was piled in a knot atop her head and her red shoes added just enough excitement to her overall look. As soon as I was finished cataloguing her appearance, I decided I should just cut off my penis and be done with it.
"Are you a friend of Cars?" she inquired, setting her black bag down on the kitchen table. The way she took ownership of the entire place made me realize she'd been a regular guest.
"We work together," I mumbled, rubbing my face to wipe away any renegade drool. My hair was a lost cause, so I didn't even bother.
"Well, we'd be happy to drop you off on our way to church. He should be up any minute," she said cheerfully. "CAR!"
I looked around just in time to catch Carlisle sprinting buck ass naked from his bedroom, his flaccid penis flopping against his thigh lewdly.
"Esme! I forgot you were coming," he announced, completely ignoring his nudity. I looked anywhere but at his exposed genitalia.
"For God's sake, Car, put some pants on," Esme sighed, apparently used to his scatterbrained behavior. I wish I had been privy to it before I gave him a hundred bucks and let him take control of my life.
A/N: HI! So Carlisle is SOO much fun to write! And a clueless but smart Edward is even more enjoyable. But reading your reaction to my words is the best.
See you soon!