Pending, Part 2

Pending - Part 2 of 2
an4@anon.lelnet.com


While Jenna was discovering that her friend hadn't exactly been entirely
forthcoming about who they were meeting at Riven, Micha was standing outside
of Dombreau's the teen-only, no cover no alcohol dance-club just a block away.
She was waiting for two of her friends to show when she saw them.
   They were walking down the street hand in hand, talking and laughing as
though nothing was wrong.
   Micha checked that thought. Nothing was wrong, not for them anyway. They
looked to be having a wonderful time, and they were so busy with one another
that they hadn't seen her yet. Carla was drawing her cigarette up to her mouth
and Bart was watching, obviously entranced, as the long slender white stick
made its way to her pale painted lips. Micha found herself ducking behind a
parked van for no real reason.
   That wasn't true. She didn't want to give Bart the opportunity to see her
alone, see her waiting for friends who hadn't come.
   But she kept watching them.
   As soon as Carla had finished the inhale, Bart reached up- he was
considerably shorter than his leggy girlfriend, and kissed her hard. Micha
remembered the first time he'd done that with her, how  he'd said that he
loved the taste of smoke in her mouth. Now, he was tasting that in some one
else's mouth. Micha drew on her own cigarette, catching a glimpse of herself
in the arc-sodium light reflecting off the windshield. She was prettier than
Carla, shorter cigarette notwithstanding. She made a show of the exhale and
yes, she was a better smoker too.
   But there was no debating the issue, was there ?
   Not with Bart, anyway. Just then, as they reached the door and started
sharing another kiss, she saw her friends coming up the street. There was
Flora, who was holding her cigarette down by her waist, almost behind her
back, as though someone might see her, and Beth, who was Flora's opposite. She
was talking up a storm and waving her cigarette around like a paid advertiser.
   Again not sure why, Micha found herself doubling around behind her friends
and by practically running, she was able to catch up to them before they
blundered right into the seriously occupied Bart and Carla.
   "Hey guys, hold up."
   Flora was so startled that she dropped her cigarette and quickly stepped on
it, as though she could hide the evidence if it was necessary. Beth wheeled
and shot Micha a `don't sneak up like that' glance, but she had seen the lip-
locking and understood. Flora lit another cigarette with a nervousness which
was- almost- funny.
   "Those guys should just get a room," Beth said to Micha with what passed in
her for sympathy. "I mean really."
   Bart heard her comment and looked up. Micha had to suppress a smile- some
things never changed. Bart had a way of looking stoned immediately after a
kiss, as though the effort was almost too much for him.
   "Hey, guys," he said. Micha noticed that he was eying all three of them with
his other look. The one he reserved for female smokers. He might have gone
over to Carla, but that didn't mean that he'd stopped looking at everyone
else. Fact was, she'd never really been able to keep his eyes on her when they
came here, and she doubted Carla would be able to do much better.
   Thinking about that made her hate him a lot less.
   Still, she had the feeling it was going to be a long night.
   "Hello, Bart. Carla." Jenna spoke for all three of them, her tone clipped,
neither hostile nor inviting more conversation.
   "How's it going, Micha ?" Carla asked, her voice sweet but dripping with
venom.
   As  Micha  thought of a suitably response which didn't include her desire to
see Carla hurt in some way, she decided her mother was right after all. 
   Teenagers were cruel.

   What Jenna discovered was that Carla had never intended to meet a group of
friends, but instead had set up a double date. Things were going pretty well-
her  date was a guy named Roland, a cutish thirty year old with  a nice smile
and a better ass. He turned out to be something of a surprise- he'd looked
like the sort of guy who would gladly talk about himself all night, but
actually he'd seemed rather interested in hear all about her- which would
normally have been cool, except for the whole not having a job thing.
   Right now, Jenna was taking a break from it all. The guys had gone off
together to run down the street- they were out of cigars- and Cass was
surprisingly understanding when she'd told her  that she needed a few minutes
of time alone.
   The truth was that the look Cass gave her when she asked if she minded her
taking a breather was mostly relief, as if maybe she'd been expected her to
bail at the first opportunity.
   When Cass had told her that this was actually a double-date, Jenna had
considered doing just that, running for the nearest door and not looking back.
The whole concept was just pathetic on too many levels. A blind double date-
the refuge of the hopeless.
   Except that Roland wasn't hopeless, and to be honest, job or no job, neither
was she.
   Still, after a week of sitting home alone all day and all night, trolling the
internet and newspapers for jobs, she needed a few minutes alone. 
   She inhaled the damp night air deeply, enjoying the cleansing smell. There
was your own smoke, she was coming to realise, other people's smoke, and
occasionally,too much smoke.
   It seemed as though everyone in the bar was smoking. Jenna had never really
been bothered by people smoking, but somehow it almost seemed to take a little
something away from her own smoking, which she was enjoying. It was hard to
taste and concentrate on your own smoke, so she'd excused herself to get
outside and smoke by herself.
   As she lit another cigarette, she was pleasantly surprised by how good it
tasted. What had started as a little bit of idle curiosity about Micha's habit
had quickly given way to something entirely different. Of course, she knew a
psychological explanation was that she was depressed and vulnerable after
losing her job, but the truth was that this was, in a way, no different than
discovering theatre or a new type of a music or any other recreational
activity.
   That was how she intended to think of smoking. Not as an habit but as a
recreational activity. Which it was.
   She started down the street, looking at the stamp on the back of her hand.
The red ink said `Pending'. Of course, like most clubs, the Riven swapped out
between a bunch of stamps that were probably used on bills in the office
during the day, but it seemed like an odd thing. `Pending.' Pending what ?
   Jenna drew on her cigarette again,filling the heavy night air with smoke.
What was pending was Roland asking her to come home with him.
   Oh, there was a little arrogance to assuming that he would ask, which Jenna
understood. But that didn't change the fact that instinct told her that he was
indeed going to ask, that she'd have a decision to make.
   It was stupid, she knew, but she didn't want to.
   The truth was, she didn't really want to do anything, didn't want to be here.
   Certainly that was why Cass had asked her to come. Losing a job could be a
funny thing. It could shatter your confidence in so many ways, from the simple
day to day to the more complex. Jenna had managed to get through two hours of
typically bland conversation without coming out and saying that she didn't
have a job, but it was likely Cass had told him anyway- the pity factor, a
card which in Jenna's experience women were allowed to play. Not men.
   There was nothing appealing about a man playing the pity card. But Jenna had
never thought much of women using it either.
   Then again, she'd never held that particular card before.
   She was drawing on the cigarette again when she lifted her head and saw
Micha. At first she was sure that she was seeing things, and then she
remembered the teenager's club was just down the street. The girl looked a
little lonely, a little upset. A younger mirror of Jenna. She liked that
juxtaposition. The girl and the woman, each laid low by cruel fate.
   A philosophical approach would have been to consider each of them perfect. To
be laid low, in the ancient tradition, was to be full of nothing but
potential, and in the infinite possibility of that potential, unfettered by
accomplishment, was the only state from which perfection could be achieved.
   It was one of the areas where the Greeks and the religionists agreed. All
great heroes were laid low at some point, made to suffer, whether it be in the
belly of the whale or chained to the rocks.
   The only problem with that sort of logic was that for every Job, there was an
Ahab. 
   Micha looked up and saw her new friend and flashed the sort of weak smile
which was all effort and no joy.
   "Hello, Jenna," she said as she reached into her little purse for her
cigarettes.
   Jenna found herself wondering what they tasted like. Certainly they were
different than hers. Better or worse ? Less or more enjoyable ? Or were all
cigarettes basically the same, different only in packaging and advertising.
Did only women smoke Virginia Slims because of billboards and magazine ads ?
She realised that there was a lot about smoking that she didn't know.
   Of course she had Cass to teach her.
   Micha lit her  own cigarette casually.
   "How's the clubbing going ?" Jenna asked, hoping the girl would be willing to
stay and talk for a minute or two.
   The girl's nervous laugh was as joyful as her earlier smile.
   "It could be going better. Bart and Carla showed up, and basically it's been
a face-mash all night."
   "Do you and Carla have some sort of history ?" Jenna asked, inhaling deeply
on the cigarette. It seemed as though it was getting harder and harder to get
a good draw from the slim cigarettes. She watched Micha's inhale on her
slightly thicker one and wondered if that was the answer. Then again, she'd
picked the brand she had for just such a meeting as this one and an idea was
forming.
   "Not really. I mean, she's not in my classes- she's one of those people who-
I know this is going to sound arrogant, but, one of those people who will be
happy to get into some state school and kind of drift through four years of
college, get a degree, and you know the rest."
   "Yeah, I used to work with a lot of people like that- and they still have
jobs. I don't."
   Oh boy, Jenna thought, that sounds bitter.
   It was bitter. So was she.
   "What do you do ? Did you do ?"
   Micha groaned at her own awkwardness, taking another pull on her cigarette.
Watching Jenna do the same she had to admit that the long cigarette looked
good in her hand, and even better in her mouth.
   "Advertising. The whole bag. Artwork, concept, scheduling. I'm one of those
`catch-all' people, you know. Only right now, I'm on the bench, so to speak."
   For the first time since they'd met, Micha's smile looked truly genuine. "My
mom runs Westwood Advertising. You must have worked at Yarmouth and Reliant,
right ?"
   "Yeah," Jenna said. Micha watched her draw on that long- but shrinking-
cigarette and an idea formed.
   "I'll bet you're one of those people who carries her Powerbook around in her
car, just in case, right ?"
   Jenna wasn't sure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. "Yes, as a matter
of fact. Wait a minute, your mom is Kelli Belawitz ?"
   "Yeah. And before you ask, she is looking to bring in- what does she call it-
a junior ad executive. She says that's someone who can handle all aspects of
a, um, a-"
   "Client's needs ?" Jenna volunteered.
   "Yes, that's it. But she's not advertising the position because she says you
can't find anyone with real experience by posting the position. All you get
are people straight of college who've never actually handled accounts . If you
can put your resume on disc for me, I'll pass it on to my mom."
   Micha pulled hard on her cigarette and Jenna made up her mind. When they went
back to her car, she was going to offer a trade. 
   If they went back to the car. The truth was that she felt a little strange
taking this sort of favour from a sixteen year old girl , but then again,
finding a job was half skill and half luck, or so they said.
   Micha read the look.
   "I know it must be strange for you. You look like the sort of woman who went
to a really top-notch university, got great grades, graduated something cum
something and then landed a nice, high paying job. Accepting help from an high
school kid-"
   "It's not how you envision your career path flowing, you know," Jenna said
honestly. "But right now, I need a job more than I need my pride."
   "Let's go then."

   It was a short walk to the car, and Jenna found herself thinking not about
her resume- which was as flawless as resumes got, starting with Yale- but
about the possibility of a trade.
   She unlocked the car, grabbed her Powerbook, and within a minute and an half,
Micha was holding her entire future in her pale, slender fingers.
   "Do you want to get even with Bart, Micha ?" Jenna asked, just as the girl
was about to light another cigarette.
   She waited until she'd lit the cigarette to answer. 
   "You thinking about a trade ?" the girl asked. "You'd better try one of these
first before you offer."
   She handed her cigarette to Jenna, who drew deeply on it, and yes, this was
definitely more satisfying. She was able to really get a good lungful of smoke
from this cigarette.
   "There's a whole carton in the car. I'll lock my Powerbook in the trunk.
Before you head home, grab the carton. It's my way of saying thanks."
   "But I said I wouldn't switch just for him," Micha said, even as she was
exchanging packs of cigarettes with Jenna.
   "Do it for yourself, then. Just think of hurting him as a bonus, okay ?"
   Micha lit one of Jenna's cigarettes and found that it was different, but
certainly acceptable.
   The thought of revenge made the taste of the cigarette even sweeter.

   Jenna was following Roland back to his place. When she'd gotten in the car
the carton of cigarettes had been gone. There was a note from Micha.
   So far, so good.
   That could describe Jenna's evening as well. Roland really was a likable guy,
but what she was doing right now was making her nervous. It wasn't her habit
to go home with a guy the first night, and she felt as though it was just
another indication of her current desperation. It felt like a second skin,
that urgency.
   The thing was, she actually wanted to have sex with him.
   A devout analyser, she'd thought it through even as they were making chit
chat, even as found herself honestly admitting that she was `between
positions'. She didn't want to have sex- or rather, she didn't just want to
have sex. She wanted to have sex with Roland, who seemed like the sort of guy
who usually didn't take women home on the first date either. But there had
been some chemistry between them, some genuine spark, and finally, about half
an hour after Cass had left with Jon, she and Roland had taken the plunge.
   He lived one of the nicer suburbs. Said he owned his house. That was not a
surprise. A research chemist at Bayer, he could probably afford it, although
she imagined his Lexus was a lease.
   She laughed. Here she was, headed to his house to sleep with him, and she was
pondering how he'd paid for his car.
   Human nature sure was strange.
   She flipped the top back on the cigarettes, pulled one out, seeing there were
only five left. It amased her how many cigarettes she'd smoked tonight. It was
also odd that Micha hadn't mentioned the obvious- that she'd started smoking
on a whim because of chance meeting with a teenage girl. Wasn't that even
stranger than going home with someone on the first date ? 
   "Too much thinking," Jenna finally said, and she knew how true that was.
Instead of following the thought train any further down the tracks, she lit
her cigarette and concentrated on keeping Roland's tail lights in view.

   Bart had that look on his face again.
   The post kiss look. Micha had decided that there would be plenty of kissing.
And nothing else.
   They were sitting in his car, making out. Micha looked idly at her watch. Of
course, Bart assumed that he would giving her a ride home, but that was just
one of several invalid assumptions he was in the process of making. No, in
five minutes, Mom would park down the street in front of the club, and Micha
was intending to go home with her.
   That only left a little time for the torture.
   She inhaled again, and his eyes nearly managed to pop from their sockets. It
was quite a show she'd put on for him. Getting him away from Carla had been as
easy as drifting by him with one of the 120s, just lit , in her hand. It made
her wonder what she'd ever seen in him. He was like a diner at a smorgasbord,
thinking that the entire female population of the high school had been laid
out for him personally.
   Just as Carla had turned his head a  few days ago, she'd turned it back. He
hadn't bothered to explain what the sudden reversal of his desires should be
attributed to. He just let Micha guide him on to the dance floor, accepted the
way that she'd moved her hands to places she never intended to touch after
this little  rendezvous. Which she was doing now.
   Even as they shared another smoky kiss, she was fondling him. He'd very
cooperatively unzipped his own pants and undone her bra. She was running her
hand up and down the length of his erect penis, going farther faster than
she'd ever done with him before. As they broke the kiss, he slipped her shirt
over her head, exposing her spectacularly naked breasts.
   He looked more unconscious than stoned now. A goofy grin spread across his
face as she bent down and ran her tongue along the head of his penis while he
began fondling her nipple.
   His penis actually quivered as she ran her tongue around the outside of the
head, and he arched his neck back, she sat up again, smiling.
   Slipping the cigarette into her mouth, she held it there as she redid her
bra. She then managed to get her shirt back on, switching hands for the hold.
She inhaled one last time and blew the smoke in his face as he started at her
in abject shock.
   "What the fuck are you doing ?" he finally managed.
   "Gotta go, Bart. And if I were you, I wouldn't tell anyone about this. You'll
just come off more pathetic than you already are." 
   She pointed at his dancing penis.
   "You're going to have to finish that yourself. You'll probably need the
practise. When Carla gets through telling everyone what happened-"
   With that she got out of the car, glad he was in no position to follow her.
   For his sake.

   Jenna was lying on top of Roland, spent. He'd been perfect in every way, from
agreeing to wear a condom without argument to letting her have a turn on top.
She found herself thinking that she was glad this was a Friday night, and then
reminded herself that didn't make a difference anymore.
   "One last time before we go to sleep ?" he asked, and she knew exactly what
he meant.
   She reached across him for her cigarettes and sat up. They were briefly
visible in the glow from the lighter and then the only thing that could be
seen was the tip of her cigarette and the sheen of sweat on her face when she
inhaled. He watched raptly, never moving, satisfied simply to observe.
   But that wasn't enough for Jenna. First she began stroking him, her hand
already quite familiar with his responsive penis. He grew erect in the space
of three inhales, and showing quite a bit of eagerness, came after just four
more. The cigarette only half finished, she began to go work on herself, her
breathing becoming more and more ragged as the cigarette shrank. She finished
shortly before she would have come, and then Roland finally moved, pushing her
hand away gently.
   He guided her down on the bed, carefully avoiding any of the wet spots, and
then slid past her. He found her quickly with his tongue and soon she was in
the throws of one last tumultuous orgasm which made the whole night a complete
and utter success.
   As she laid back in the curve of his arm and chest she turned to him and
playfully bit his ear.
   "You are going to call me tomorrow, right ?"
   "I already left a message on your machine when you were in the bathroom. I
have tickets to the Hamlet at the Rep, if you're interested."
   Jenna smiled, and then reminded herself to thank Cass in the morning. Really
thank her.

   Kelli pulled up in her Pathfinder. She and Micha got out of the four wheeler
and walked over to where Jenna was standing, smoking a cigarette and waiting
for Kelli to unlock the office.
   "You're early today."
   "We have that meeting with the Grenwald group at eight."
   Kelli slapped her head. "Damn, I forgot. Ever since I let Micha here start
smoking, she'd been hitting me up for rides to school. Some silly rule about
not smoking on the bus. I have to meet with an alumni rep from Yale at eight.
I guess she thinks they're going to offer my little sunshine here a
scholarship. I'll run inside and grab a few things for you."
   Jenna reached as if to put out her cigarette but Kelli shook her head.
"Finish it. I'll leave the paperwork on your desk. I'm sure you can handle the
Grenwald people."
   With that she was gone, her usual nervous ball of energy.
   Micha pulled her cigarettes from her purse and accepted a light from Jenna,
who saw the girl was still smoking the 120s.
   "You know, all this time, and I've never thanked you," Jenna said, inhaling
deeply when she was finished.
   Micha laughed. "Are you kidding ? Mom says that you're going to put me
through post-doc  by the end of the quarter."
    "Not that. If you and I hadn't run into each other on the bridge-"
   "Call it even. Bart hasn't had a date in a month- and Carla told everyone
that he sits at home jerking off, thinking about girls that smoke."
   "That is an exaggeration, isn't it ?" Jenna asked, laughing.
   Micha pulled on the long cigarette and exhaled. "Who cares ? All I know is
every time he sees me with one of these in my hand, he gets this look- I call
it the `strangled puppy dog' look." She spontaneously hugged Jenna, who
returned the embrace.
   "I guess we had what each other needed. I'm glad."
   Kelli came bursting back out the front door and ran straight to the
Pathfinder.
   "She really likes you," Micha said as she turned to leave.
   Jenna smiled. "She likes you, too. Good luck with the Yale. Just don't
mention Harvard. "
   She almost said, `Don't mention me, either,' but decided not to. She knew
better than to think Belinda would say anything about who'd called her.
   Jenna took one last pull on the cigarette, wondering if she'd paid the girl
back yet. Then she look at her watch, saw it was seven-thirty, and decided she
had time for one more cigarette.
   It was an happy thought.

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