Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Butterflies & The Net ❯ Chapter 19: Well, hell... ( Chapter 20 )

Butterflies & the Net by iloveanimecartoons

Genre(s): Psychological/Angst/Drama/Romance
Rating: T
Latest Addition: April 20, 2009

 

 

Chapter 19:Well, hell…

 

 

 

“Good afternoon. Have a seat, Miss Amarante,” Dr. Zayne greeted distractedly as she waved Solya to her seat before her desk and shuffled papers.

 

Solya glowered but caught herself and fixed a jaw-tight semi smile as she sat down. “Afternoon.”

 

After nearly two minutes of rearranging and scanning her folder, Dr. Zayne addressed Solya directed.

 

“So, I was rereading your files and realized my omission from our former sessions. There are notes you shared with Dr. Busch—”

 

Solya's stomach twisted in yearning and, unfair as it may be, indignation over, as she saw it, Dr. Zayne's too-casual reference to her old therapist. Her…well…kind of friend, as unprofessional as that would've been in actuality. Not thinking of her vow to remain cool and indifferent, she snapped. “A journal.”

 

“Ah, yes, a journal,” Dr. Zayne drawled after a few moments of staring at Solya in that way that made her feel like a specimen on a microscope before jotting a few notes in the tablet she then picked up from her—Dr. Busch's—desk drawer.

 

 

`Does she know anything? Seems all she does is parrot me and refer to notes in my file. If you're gonna shrink me, shrink me, dammit! And was that ninny just trying to be sarcastic?'

 

 

“So, may I see your notes from the week, ?” Dr. Zayne asked.

 

“I don't think I appreciate your tone, Dr. Zayne, and I'd be most grateful if you'd adjust your tone to one less condescending and one more suited to address and adult,” Solya gritted out, icy as hell. Shit, she was giving this woman too much to ponder. `Time to retrench…'

 

Before she had a chance to modulate her voice and soften her words to erase most of the scorn and hide the offense she too easily showed in them, Dr. Zayne jumped on her words with what Solya saw as whole hearted relish. Dammit.

 

“Eighteen years hardly constitutes adulthood. Yes, there is the legal aspect of the age…” she paused to look at Solya knowingly, “But, mentally…well, you're not there yet.”

 

 

`Why, you little…'

 

 

Dr. Zayne seemed to realize, finally, that she offended someone and raised her hands lightly to Solya, smiling. “I'm not calling you immature, Miss Amarante, so don't be offended, please, as that was not my intention. My observation was a general one—more 18-years olds than you realize, stable homes, two-family units, wonderful support systems or not, they expect—more so, they assume they're expected— to just pony up and don the cloak of adulthood. They just aren't always ready as the thought they'd be for that jump from seventeen to eighteen.”

 

Solya just nodded and muttered an occasional “Uh-huh” as she played with her fingers beyond her therapist's sight, under the desk, half-listening to the woman's probable recitation from some psychology manual or magazine.

 

“In twenty-four hours, they're expected to do all these things that, a day ago, they'd be reprimanded for, pushed towards with shaky boundaries, even arrested for. It's incredibly freeing and sometimes incredibly frightening or at the least, a transition that leaves some in limbo, putting on fronts to please others. It's not like its some general neurosis I'm talking about here; just a major stepping stone and a pretty big growing pain as well. And let's not even go on with the frustration in government-issued levels of acceptable adulthood allowances for 18- and 21-years olds. But, enough of that—”

 

“Yes, enough of that,” Solya agreed so quickly it took her a few seconds to realize she once again cut her therapist off—this time, not meaning to.

 

Dr. Zayne seemed, for once, to be mildly taken aback.

 

 

`Tough.'

 

 

She recovered quickly enough with a verbal spar to boot. “Well, honestly, Ms. Amarante, I don't see how that tone is necessary or appropriate and, if I may say, your rather prickly behavior towards me is hurting you, not me.

 

“Of all the ridi—”

 

“Furthermore, it wastes time, all this projecting and posturing of yours. If you truly have come here with a mindset to learn, to grow and to change then, I must say, you're failing abysmally.

 

Solya couldn't speak. Of all the nerve! Well, okay, maybe she did come off a tad stiff and formal and, okay, maybe she did feel a bit petulant, too, but the bitch was just went to far. How dare she talk to her like…a child…? Whoa… Was she acting childish? Solya racked her brain, reviewing past sessions with Dr. Zayne—

 

 

`Stab, bite, shoot, glare, hiss, stomp …ah, that's better…releasing little mental aggression does the heart and psyche good!'

 

 

—and came up empty…pretty much. Well, shit, she was being bull-headed…a little. And, yeah, maybe she was really wasting her father's money by not fully participating and just going through the motions, but, well, the bitch was to damned blunt and cocky for her tastes.

 

 

“…but, we'll touch more on that in our next session. For now, I'd appreciate your full cooperation as to not waste my time…or yours.”

 

 

`Bitch,' Solya grumbled in her head—maybe not in total fairness but her tone just set her back up.

 

 

“So, your diet plan—”

 

“Lifestyle changes,” Solya cut in, near growling. `Diet plan.' She'd about retch before she let the words pass her mouth. `Die with a T on the end…'

 

“Ah, tomatoes, tomahtoes, Solya—”

 

“Miss Amarante, Dr. Zayne.”

 

“Ah, that name change again. I see,” Dr. Zayne smirked, eyebrow rising just slightly in a way that set Solya's teeth to grinding again. “Okay, allow me a bit to adjust to the change in address then, Miss Amarante. I'm not senile but it will take a while to adjust to your request to be addressed differently.”

 

“To the contrary, Dr. Zayne,” Solya replied with perfect diction—code for “Bitch, you're crossing boundaries”—with a professional smile plastered over her face, “I was just referring to the name you addressed me as from our first meeting—that seemed more than appropriate.”

 

Dr. Zayne affected a shudder and wrapped her arms around herself. “Did it suddenly get cold in here or is it just me?”

 

So, the wench was trying to make a funny—nuh-uh, not gonna work. “Don't think so, myself; I'm anemic—yet another little detail you should have run across in my notes by now—so, if the temperature changed that dramatically, I definitely would have noticed it by now.”

 

“Okay, so I'm not Chris Rock,” the good doctor laughed, self-deprecatingly, “so, sue me.”

 

 

`Don't tempt me…'

 

 

“Anything you want to share form the past week? We have about fifteen minute left.”

 

 

`I'm doing this for you, Papi…'

 

 

The next thirteen minutes, Solya proceeded to vent, rant, growl, and practically howl at the moon at the frustrations of the past two weeks, the disappointments, the surprises, her 3-pound loss of the two weeks prior and the 2-pound loss for the week, her love of her—their, hers and Jesse's she decided—dog and the `yuppie day in the park', the overall tension-filled card party, Jerrod getting on her last nerve, the insistent teasing of her peers (and, yes, Denise, too).

 

 

`Yeah, give `em a rant, not a piece of your soul.'

 

 

She didn't mention her confusion over how she dealt with Jesse and the fact that he seemed to want to get closer to her than she was comfortable with. She didn't mention in detail how hurt, embarrassed and dismayed she was at Jerrod's behavior at the card party—totally unlike him and rather hypocritical. And she sure didn't mention the return of those dreaded nightmares as of three days ago or the migraines and occasional tightness in her chest. That was way too confidential.

 

 

`For Dr. Busch's ears only! Man, I miss her...'Solya sighed inwardly before sitting up and glaring at Dr. Zayne—ineffectual as she was jotting notes, “and I detest you, you mechanical twit!'

 

 

With the last two minutes, she confirmed by rote that the same time next week was fine then was caught off guard by a hand enclosing her wrist as she got up to leave, once again, without a goodbye. Dr. Zayne stopped her in her tracks with the one statement she didn't expect.

 

“Also, I'd like to speak on reintroduction to meds next session. Have a productive week and, please, continue to log in your journal.”

 

With that, she let her Solya go and grinned as she waved her a “shoo, shoo” sort of goodbye. As if they were cool like that. As if…

 

 

`Meds? Well, hell…'

 

 

 

 

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“So? Did ya throw a pail of water on her?”

 

Solya tried to blink away to red haze that threatened to engulf every time she finished a session with Dr. Zayne and regarded Jazmin dazedly. “Huh? What you talkin' `bout, Willis?”

 

“You know…`The Wicked Therapist from the West', `Queen Bitch', `The Evil Therapist That Can't', and whatever other names you've called her in your bitter ramblings since you started telling me about her.”

 

“Oh, yeah…”

 

“You did?” Jazmin asked astonished.

 

“Huh?”

 

“You did throw water on her?”

 

“Huh? Girl, no! I just listened to her talk about crap about the human condition, read me crap from old sessions with Dr. Busch, and took in more of her verbal defecation.”

 

“Ah…”

 

“Dunno about you, Jazzy, but I could eat a horse. Well, I could but will most likely have to settle for healthy stuff in stages. Wanna go out to eat? My treat!”

 

“Sure! When'd you go all Rockefeller on me? You get a job you forget to mention to me or is your Sugar Daddy hookin' you up with more than free room and board for Kenny?”

 

Solya blanched but tried to hide it—fruitless with Jazmin around, but she tried—and waved a dismissive hand. “Jesse isn't my Sugar Daddy, woman. I did get a nice bit of cash from various birthday cards and some pretty nice gift cards, too—the $50 one from Jesse—”

 

“Ooooh, your Baby Daddy is so sweet!” Jazmin squealed.

 

“Please stop calling him that, Jazmin. Please... He's my fr—er, he's just cool peeps.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Where you about to use the “F” word?”

 

“Shut up, you.”

 

“You were! You were about to call him your friend! Honey, for you, this is huge! Hell, at this stage, in the average relationship, folks'd either be spouting poetry, swearing some sort of blood pact or begin dating. Just how close have you guys been getting, I wonder?”

 

“Not going there. Now, either let me feed you or I'm going home.”

 

“Miss Grumpy pants strike again. Well, 'kay, you may feed me—luckily I'm too broke to put up a fuss. But, sooner or later, we've gotta talk about this. You can't do you best friend like this. I'm practically living vicariously through you.”

 

“Vicariously? Huh, surely not.”

 

“No joke, Sols.”

 

“But, you keep a man.”

 

“Ah, ah, ah. I keep male company—big difference.”

 

“Well, whatever, I'm hungry. We'll talk about your string of broken hearts at the restaurant.”

 

“Cool.”

 

“Yes, I am pretty cool, aren't I?”

 

“And completely humble, too.”

 

“Why, thank ye!”

 

“And your session, too?” Josie asked hopefully, “Details?”

 

Solya's grunt was non-committal at best, but Jazmin took it as the closest to a "maybe” she'd get as the tow friends headed out of the waiting room.

 

 

 

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“Am I on the top of your Shit List, Cuteness?”

 

“You? Why'd you ask me that, Jesse?”

 

“Oh, let's see…a dozen unanswered calls and a couple un-replied to emails, maybe?”

 

“Oh, that. Sorry, Jess. Just, I dunno…processing,” Solya answered, though it came out sounding like a question.

 

“I see. So, nothing I did or didn't do that added to this, um, processing of yours?”

 

“Geez, Jesse, you were there. It was a mess and I'm so sorry about the shitty treatment you received and, well, I guess I didn't know how to bring it up,” Solya admitted in one long breath, stopping only to refill her lungs before continuing. “Jesse, you were a guest—my guest—and I should've…should've said—did—something more or—”

 

“Hey, I'm a big boy. It's okay Butterfly.”

 

“It's not, Jesse. It's really not. Jerrod was wrong on so many counts and, I mean, I knew he wasn't exactly welcoming you with open arms before but he really overdid it Sunday. And the way he looked at my—our—Kenny…I shudder to think of it.”

 

“I dunno…little dude was set to nibble the hell out of Jerrod's big toe for your honor,” Jesse chuckled.

 

“It's not funny, man. He scowled at my baby!” Solya whined

 

Jesse cleared his throat. “Okay, for one, Cuteness, I missed your voice and I wanted to see you. I'm glad you're picking up your phone, now. Secondly, I had a great time there talking to your friends and eating all that great food and even cleanup was nice. Josie and Matt are nice folks; and their kids? Never a dull moment!”

 

“Amen to that.”

 

“Third, like I said, I'm a big boy, Solya. I was fine just sitting back and observing between playing games, chatting with the people, and getting my grub-on. It really wasn't a horrible day for me.”

 

“You're just trying to make me feel better.”

 

“Nah. I wouldn't shit you like that. Fourth, your friend-slash-bodyguard, Jerrod…well, outside of an extra dose of hostility, I pretty much expected his actions. He's your best friend, your best male friend, and I could only imagine him as trying to look out for you.”

 

“But, seriously, that was over-the-top overkill, in my humble opinion. He either glared, growled, scowled or tried to antagonize you all night.”

 

“And received more than his share of odd, disapproving, and occasionally pitying looks from a good half or more of the crowd. Like I told you before, I'm a people watcher.”

 

“Yeah. I noticed that, too. But, that only chilled him out a bit. He was still on you like white on rice for most of the evening.”

 

“Like I said, Solya, he's protective. You know I'm a big brother and I belong to a family full of females—to me, his stance was, to a point, anyway, acceptable. Now, I'm not saying I'd go all Hulk on any of them in the same situation but I don't generally put my whole-hearted trust in any guys they introduce me to for the first time or two, myself. Especially if there was a little past disagreement with me and said dude beforehand.”

 

“Wait, you and Jer…?”

 

“It's in the past, Solya. Don't sweat it.”

 

“Yeah, but still…maybe if I just talk to him—eventually—it'd smooth things over…” Solya offered again, tucking away that tidbit about past Jesse and Jerrod's past disagreement to ponder more later.

 

“Believe me, a situation like that isn't easily smoothed over. But, it's okay. People grow, change, and either get over it or learn to avoid dropping a verbal bomb to prick the memory. Really, Solya, it's fine.”

 

“If you think that, you really don't know Jerrod. He's usually mind-mannered—not a pushover, mind you, but easy going—but he takes serious offense to slights and offenses and he's loyal and, yes, in a lot of ways, overprotective. But, I'm gonna try and take your word for it. Thanks for being so understanding, J.”

 

“No problemo. Now, how's about I pick you up and let your get in touch with your inner child?”

 

“Huh? Inner child?”

 

“Chuck E. Cheese's! My nephew's birthday party! Come on, it'll be fun!”

 

“Pizza and birthday cake...” Solya moaned in ecstasy mixed with dread. “Too much temptation, but thanks.”

 

“Oh, right, that “Lifestyle Change” you're on. Well, I can't say I see any flaws but never let it be said I went against a woman's self-idealizations.”

 

“What a wise and gracious gesture, Jesse. You're an asset to Women's Lib. Me, however…,” Solya giggled.

 

“`Tomboy for life,' right?”

 

“Pretty much.”

 

“Okay, I know that was last-minute so my heart's not broken today. How about, um, tomorrow? Anywhere you wanna go.”

 

Solya smiled to herself and though about it. “Okay. How about your place? Haven't trounced you and your bro in a minute and I want to hang out with you and Kenny. That work for you?”

 

Perfect! I'll even introduce you to another `Dish to Fall in Love with and Propose To': Chicken Marsala! It's a da-deal.”

 

“Cool. I'll see you around 2:30.”

 

“I'll send you a cab.”

 

“Jesse…you really don't have to do that all the time.”

 

“Aw, don't spoil my fun. Let me spoil you a little,” Jesse pouted.

 

“Well, when you put it that way…”

 

“Hook, line and sinker!” Jesse gloated, teasingly.

 

“Oh, hush!” Solya returned without heat. “See you then. Bye.”

 

“Bye, Butterfly.”

 

“Hey, quit tha—” But, before she could protest to that use of that connotation, he hung up.

 

 

`That man's trying to put me on permanent blush…'

 

 

 

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“Time to binge…” Solya sighed resigned.

 

“Oh, hell—I heard that,” Josie groaned behind her before she fixed her eyes on, “…fat free granola, celery…oh, God—radishes?”

 

“Duh-huh.” Solya answered absently as she centered in the middle of the madness of low carb, cardboard-tasting crap and veggies, veggies, veggies—oh, and a spontaneously-decided stolen handful of her father's Bing cherries—big faux pas but she just didn't care at the moment—a can of Utz's French Onion dip. The real kind; with all the fat, carbs, sodium, preservatives and other various crap that probably went into it.

 

“Ewww, radishes,” Josie moaned as she dropped the offensive little cranberry-colored balls of evil onto the table and faked a retch. “Grossness incarnate.”

 

“No, that would be the artichokes, asparagus, Brussel Sprouts and Bok Choy D tried to slide onto me last night in what she deemed a `Progressive Soup'—can we say vomit?”

 

“And I used to like that woman so much,” Josie laughed.

 

“Yanno?”

 

“And how the hell to you binge on…?” Josie started, trailing off as she picked up the bag of baby carrots and cucumbers.

 

“Cop a squat and learn,” Solya answered, pushing the evil little tin towards Josie, “Heart-clogging covered nutrition—join me?”

 

“And follow you down the path of self-destruction?” Josie drawled, holding in a laugh at her dramatic girlfriend, deciding to humor her. “Hell, why not? I resisted that holiday bag of Snickers on sale yesterday and think I can afford to, even though I've reached--What do the doctors call it?—my plateau weight or some such shit like that.”

 

Solya knew what she meant and placed an uncharacteristic hand over Josie's forearm to squeeze in commiseration. “No…”

 

“Oh, yeah. Hell, I'm starting to see a damn waistline come in and, two weeks in a row, I haven't lost over 12 ounces.”

 

“Damn. That sucks.”

 

“Understatement, honey. What the hell does a pair of toned calves, the ability to breath in your jeans, and a decrease in the ol' Flabby Arm when your body decides halfway in the game to shut down on ya? Damn, it's depressing.”

 

“That sure sounds like it is. Sorry, girl. I take it an increase in exercise didn't help?”

 

“Shit, girl. I spent the first week mostly half-starving myself, after only losing a pound the week prior, and the second too damn bummed to do much more than do the household stuff, tend the kiddies, give Mathieu a little nooky—okay, he did make that fun—”

 

“TMI, Josie!” Solya shrieked, reaching out to cover Josie's mouth with her hand.

 

Josie caught it in mid-cover and eased it to the table with a belatedly embarrassed grin. “Oh, sorry. Can't go dysfuctionalizin' your innocent little mind.”

 

“Bless you, Josie.”

 

“Anything for you. Well, anyway, basically outside of the Spades party and teasing the hell out of you about Jesse, I was too down to hit the gym in vain so I just lived off of coffee and celery with sugar-free peanut butter on it—no joke,” Josie replied as she started a spirited Pee Pee Dance out of the blue.

 

“For your information, Josie, dysfuctionalizin' is not a real word. And why you wiggling around like that? You got a chigger or something?”

 

“Okay, first of all, ewww. Second, leave my Wannabe Ebonics alone. Third, with that wild celery and PB meal plan, I drank a lot of water and diet cranberry juice—sneaks up on you and runs through ya like Mexican tap water,” Josie answered, her words jogged by the pony ride-like motions of the dance.

 

“Aw, shit. I done spoke it up…gotta go,” Josie wailed as she hobbled to the bathroom.

 

“Ah, the power of suggestion at work…” Solya teased.

 

“Bite me,” Josie laughed as she made her way to the bathroom.

 

“Not even if you were coated in Dove chocolate,” Solya called back, then stated on her “binge” in peace as Josie's choked laughter echoed back down the hall.

 

 

 

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“Gawd, he looked so good, I about had to lie down and touch myself.”

 

Solya chortled.

 

Josie gasped…a little. Hell, she was pretty used to Jazmin's blunt commentary on the opposite sex and their affect on her. `Our own personal `Sex and the City' girl—Jaz is bugged out.'

 

“Shit, thinking back, I may have done so…well, out of eye and earshot, anywho…”

 

“So, who is this latest attestment to male superiority?”

 

“You must be mad, Sols. Attestment? Not a real word,” Jazmin noticed.

 

“Oh, shit. Did I say that?” Solya balked. For all her slang and laid back mannerisms, the woman could be a college English professor.

 

“E-yep.”

 

“Well, damn…okay, how the newest stud, the, dammit? Hell, details.”

 

“Newbie?” Josie inquired.

 

“Throwback?” Solya asked with a grin.

 

“He was a…hmmm, how to put it…?”

 

“Rebound guy?”

 

Jazmin raised a haughty brow.

 

Solya snorted again.

 

“No, wait, you dump—no, mutually dismiss—guys, right, Jaz?” Josie asked, raising her hand to form quotation marks.

 

“You're, as always, most observant, oh, Josie-sama, Queen of the Pussycats.”

 

“Thank ya,” Josie beamed before allowing Jazmin a regal head inclination.

 

“And, to answer you, no, he's not a newbie or throwback. He's a “maybe” that I put on file as just that a couple weeks ago. I didn't see him much after that and that day we're discussing…?”

 

“Yeah?” Josie sighed vicariously.

 

Solya just waited patiently through Josie's the dramatic pause for effect.

 

“Well, heavens, the man was a walking orgasm, girls—multiple ones!”

 

Josie fanned herself vigorously.

 

Solya snorted, then chuckled, then, oddly, flushed a little.

 

“Oh, crap on a cracker, Josie—Solya's thinking about Jesse again. Lookit!” Jazmin proclaimed as she pointed at Solya's pink-turning-burgundy complexion.

 

“This is just too cute. Our little Sols finally growing up,” Josie squealed.

 

Solya grimaced and rushed to her own defense. “You two act like I'm not only a few years younger than the both of you. Cut it out.”

 

“Defensive,” Josie stage whispered.

 

“Shut up,” Solya grumbled.

 

“Touchy,” Jazmin added, just to prick Solya.

 

It worked.

 

“What do you two want me to say? He's damn cute, alright? I already admitted that.”

 

“Yes, you did,” Jazmin allowed, waiting for more—more she knew was coming.

 

“You like him, though, Sols?”

 

Solya's face leeched a little of color. She swallowed a few times and contemplated that for a bit, “Well…yeah, I like him enough. He's polite and funny and he's great with Kenpachi and, well, he doesn't get on my nerves and he's polite—”

 

“Oh no, wait, honey,” Josie cut in, disbelieving, “You just called him polite. Polite?”

 

“Twice,” Josie coughed.

 

“Well…he is. I like him like I—used to like—Jerrod. He's a good…buddy, I guess.”

 

“You guess?”

 

“I know, Jaz, okay?”

 

“Sure…for now—and whaddaya mean, you like him like you used to like Jerrod?”

 

“Yeah, what is up with that?” Josie asked, also curious and slightly concerned about their lack of communication since the party, “You and Jer, I mean.”

 

“Not going there, Josie.”

 

“I haven't seen you two this alienated since—”

 

Sighing Jazmin said what they both have been thinking for over two weeks, “Since Jer went all possessive/territorial on Sols about Jesse after he told her to go for it with him.”

 

“Jazmin, drop this.”

 

“Huh. How `bout that. You're right. Jer's—”

 

“Jealous as a tick in a flea circus on a dog's ass,” Jazmin finished, voice all smug and country-mimicked.

 

“Exactly,” Josie breathed.

 

“So true.”

 

“And where the hell'd you get that country-assed saying and that twangy-assed accent?” Josie asked, amused.

 

“I meet all kinds of yahoos on college nights in local bars and—”

 

“Who gives a shit?” Solya near roared. “Hello? I'm right here and I could care less if she was channeling Patsy Kline! Don't you two start all that analyzing shit while I'm just a few feet in front of you. It's not cool, not, funny, not cute, and not all right. Got enough of that from my therapist, bitch that she is, Juan, and occasionally Denise—though she actually means well and isn't pushy. So, quit it and respect my boundaries, dammit!”

 

“You know we mean well,” Josie replied softly, rubbing an apologetic hand over Solya wrist.

 

It took some of the steam out of Solya's anger. Again, she sighed. “Just…please…stop trying to bum rush me on the romantic tip. Shit. I feel cornered and it's not a nice feeling. I'm not used to this stuff.”

 

“But, how else am I gonna show you what's looking you right in the eyes?” Jazmin mustered on, unperturbed. “ By the way, TB, you don't dodge well…but we'll chat later.”

 

“No, we're not. You're just bored and hella nosey, Jaz. Hell. How'd you get these extra days off from school, anyway?” Solya practically growled in irritation.

 

“I've my ways,” Jazmin purred.

 

“Your Dean's a pushover,” Solya sighed, hoping to change the subject.

 

“Her Dean's infatuated.” Josie muttered with a smile in her eyes.

 

Solya mock-gasped, apparently well-aware of her best girlfriend's effect on older men—reserved older men. `I mean, hell, just look at her. Homegirl is built.'

 

Jazmin Jimenez had the most uncanny outlook where it came to her body and appeal, Solya always thought. While she didn't exactly skulk around hiding out in sweats and trucker caps, she wasn't generally bold with the opposite sex in “showing off the goods” either. Solya, never really self-conscious about her looks for the sake of attracting the opposite sex, still felt a twinge of jealousy at Jazmin's figure, nonetheless—well, more her metabolism. The woman could eat two McDonald's Extra Value Meals, two apple pies and a caramel nut sundae every other day and still maintain her figure—seriously. Solya ate a double cheeseburger and gained five pounds.

 

 

`Which out and out sucks,' Solya thought despondently as she took in Jazmin's well-proportioned, curvy shape. `...if only…'

 

 

“…anyway, Josie-chan, heard ya plateau-ed, weight-wise. That is not cool, honey. How ya dealin'?”

 

 

`Ugh! What'd I miss this time? I gotta stop drifting off like that? Well, hell…at least they're of me and Jerrod…yes!'

 

 

“What's that phrase of yours, Jaz? Sucks like a Hoover? Yeah, like that,” Josie groaned.

 

“And I can just imagine they, your doctors or nutritionist or other friggin' health guru want you to practically murder yourself with more workouts, huh?”

 

“Quite right, girlfriend.”

 

“Well, damn…”

 

“Shit, I don't' FEEL like upping my exercise! I can barely get in the 20 minutes of power walking and an entire session with Richard with my little devils, work and household crap. Why?!” Josie wailed, falling on Jazmin's shoulder and accepting the “you poor baby” hugs from her.

 

“Oh, my gawd, Josie,” Solya couldn't help but comment, “you're still `Sweating to the Oldies?”

 

“Hey, don't hate. Me and Richard S. go way back and most of those songs either relax or tickle me to the point of taking my mind off the fact I'm actually exercising.”

 

“Had to pick with ya and, seriously, whatever works. Do you, playa.”

 

Just then, Solya's phone rang and she looked down to check the caller ID.

 

 

`Jesse. Hit ya back, later, man.'

 

 

With a smile, she started to pocket her cell. Not even 10 seconds went by then her phone rang again, halting it's descent. Called ID showed it was Jerrod. Solya nearly moaned in frustration.

 

 

`What does that make; forty calls? Tough! To call your phrase back atcha, buddy, “Oh, hell, no!”'

 

 

Solya's stomach lurched and she waited for the `Call Missed' message to appear before turning her cell off.

 

“Someone's popular,” Josie suggested, trying all-too-obviously to see who Solya was ignoring.

 

“Someone's duckin',” Jazmin chortled. “Who was tha—?”

 

Her cell rung: Jerrod. She looked over at Solya, obviously knowing this was probably one of those “if she's there with you, just cough or something” calls folks made to track someone. True, she felt they both needed to talk and air things out but she wasn't gonna spill the beans without Solya's consent. Jazmin was pushy, nosey and stubborn but more than that, she was loyal. Giving Solya the “you here?” look and seeing Solya shake her head emphatically, she sighed and ignored the call, too.

 

“You could've talked to him, Jaz. I would've been quiet,” Solya said.

 

“I've got your back but I'm not lying to PB, Sols.”

 

“Oh, come on, Solya. Its been nearly a week. Call the dude and have it out,” Josie tried to persuade.

 

To no avail, of course. Jerrod hadn't exactly burnt bridges but he was nearing the top of the all-too famous list in her mind. Solya had been in a shitty mood all week, not helped by two near anxiety attacks—one at the card party and one, out of the blue, two days ago, after she nearly picked up the home phone without checking the Caller ID when Jerrod tried to catch her again—and the constant calls to her cell and home by Jerrod, many of which Denise tried to coax her into answering. Solya just shook her head and walked off. And the nightmares; Solya hadn't had them in months and now… Ugh! The few nightmares she experienced later that week were fuzzy and pieced together but spoke to her in a way that seemed to be trying to tell her something personal that she missed or…forgot? Whatever the dreams were, they disturbed her and repeated throughout the night until she woke in the morning exhausted, crabby as hell, and sweat-soaked. And, with the last nightmare, a hell of a migraine. Jerrod's calls didn't' help.

 

She could feel here temples start to throb at the thought of him and she scowled, which, well, just didn't help things. “Dammit, Jer, if you're the cause of me having to get back on migraine meds, I'm kicking your ass!”

 

“Well…someone's pissed,” Josie observed.

 

“I second that,” Jazmin agreed, coming over to Solya to massage her temples.

 

“Understatement,” Solya growled.

 

 

 

A/N: Well, I've been on a roll, lately and was able to get a new chapter out sooner than I thought. I hope it meets your approval, B&TN readers! Oh, forgive me for not mentioning you in my last chapter, laq810, my newest FP.net reviewer. And to Sesshomaru4kagura4ever, my constant cheerleader on MM.org, thanks so much for making me Kool-Aid smile! I love to receive comments as they make me smile and challenge me to get off my duff. Oh, my overly-extended absence before these last two chapters? Well, let's just say life was kicking my arse!! But, God is good and I'm still breathing in and out on my own. As always, much props to my too-cool Beta! Hopefully, I'll never bore her! Or any of you, for that matter! LOL! Everyone be easy! =^_^= Hope everyone had a nice Easter, Passover, etc!!! Peace!!