According to Carrie

In a cubical the size of the box I got my UGG boots in, I sat and stared forlornly at the blinking cursor that taunted me from the blank Microsoft Word document.

I sighed, leaned back, and twirled once in a full circle on my chair. I had every intention of spinning again, had a large black loafer not stopped me. Reluctantly, I looked up into the passive face of my boss, Mr. Hamilton.

“Hello Carrie,” he said curtly, removing his foot from my chair, “how’s the article coming?”

Wordlessly, I gestured at my tauntingly blank screen. “Almost finished,” I replied.

When he leaned forward (not that he really had to, my screen was still blank no matter what distance you looked at it from), I naturally moved away from him. It wasn’t that I had intentionally set out to offend him, but I felt like he was violating my personal space so I slid back. His eyes became smaller as they landed on me. As he straightened up, leering at me (I know you could kind of see down my shirt if you looked at it from the right angle) with slightly raised eyebrows, all I could think was, ‘is this considered sexual harassment?’.

His balding head glimmered against the false lighting of the building. “Just have it done by Friday,” he finally answered gruffly, before stalking off to harass another female employee.

I leaned forward; my elbows propped up against the cluttered surface of my desk, and groaned into my hands. This article was never going to get finished.
---
Brooks, bless his little heart, always tried so hard to feign interest when I asked him for his opinion on things.

Today, I was going to clean out my closet. I had Brooks sitting out in my living room while I tried some things on. “You know what, Brooksy?” I asked as I pulled open my door and stepped out into the living room.

From his spot in my beautiful leather recliner, he spun and faced me. He was slouched down, a carefully disguised look of pain on his face. I could see right through it, and it only made me smile. “What?”

I gestured at the pockets in my pajama pants. “Thank God I have pockets on my pajamas – I was getting tired of holding onto things while I slept.”

A slight look of relief crossed his face. The chair he was sitting in groaned in protest as he stood up. “Seriously, Care, as much as I love the fashion show, I think my testosterone levels are dropping. I need to go play violent video games or something.”

I brushed his arm away from my shoulders and looked up at him. “I could try on lingerie and you could whistle at me,” I offered.

He rolled his eyes with a small smile. “I don’t think I should be thinking about or seeing my little Care-Bear like that.”

I gave him a pointed stare. “It’s things like that that make your testosterone levels drop.”

He feigned innocence. “Care-Bear, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I swatted at his arm. “I promise we’re almost done.” Taking a step back, I gave a small twirl.

Brooks took the hint and stepped back to give me a once over. If it were anyone else, it would have made me self-conscious. But I knew Brooks was looking at the clothes, not trying to imagine the body underneath. And I didn’t want it any other way.

“Why would you ever need pajamas that small?”

I put my hands on my hips. “Brooksy. Don’t be stupid. It’s like a pre-sex outfit.”

His dimples appeared and I instantly knew he was going to say something that was either patronizing or funny. “I know what other people wear them for, but I was referring to you.”

He didn’t even try to back away when I smacked him. “Pre-sex,” I repeated simply. He chuckled, grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around so I faced my room.

“Then keep them. Come on. I have to beat Mike’s ass at Xbox.”

I sighed forlornly. Fine.
---
Part of me felt bad for Mike as Brooks kicked his ass at some stupid violent video game. I had received multiple invitations to join in, but I declined and sat cross-legged on the floor of Mike’s “bachelor pad” with my glasses low on my nose and my MacBook open on my lap. Goddamn this article was ridiculous.

I was startled out of my reverie when Brooks suddenly shouted magnificently, and Mike groaned from his spot on the beanbag chair a few feet from me. “Cheater.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Brooks grin. “Mike, the only thing worse than your ability to lose at everything,” he ducked as Mike threw the controller, “are those stupid sunglasses you insist on wearing everywhere.”

I perked up at the statement. “What kind of sunglasses are they?”

Brooks opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “Brooksy, I don’t want your defamation version of them. Mike, go get them.”

Mike stood and preened himself like a peacock, his chest puffed out proudly as he faced Brooks. “Thank you, Carrie.”

As he left the room to go upstairs, Brooks turned to me. “You’re such a little traitor, Care.”

I took off my glasses so I could see him better and stuck my tongue out at him. “You’re so mean to him sometimes.”

He rolled his eyes in response and slouched in his seat. “This is a conspiracy because I’m so good looking.”

I laughed at how humble that was. For the media he portrayed a humble oh-I’m-not-that-good-looking façade, but underneath it he wasn’t above pulling a stint like he just did. “Yes, Brooks, it was. And by taking Mike’s side over yours, I am clearly stripping you of your ultimate sexiness.”

“You know, you and I should join forces. Then our combined sexiness would create powerful offspring.”

I sat silently. What was that?

It was then that Mike chose to walk back into the room. “If I didn’t know any better, Brooks, I’d say you just offered sex to Carrie. And look, she’s horrified.”

I should defend myself – I should say something – I should –

“Oh come on Care,” Brooks laughed, sitting beside me on the floor and awkwardly poking my cheek, “I was just kidding!”

A slow feeling of humiliation settled in my stomach as I realized he was just kidding. His comment had taken me off guard, so I wasn’t able to whip out my repertoire of witty one-liners or defend myself.

So I decided on revenge. “So what you’re saying, Books,” I started slowly, “is that I’m fat and unsexy?”

The joking smile on his face disappeared, and he immediately fell still. Mike laughed out loud. “Keep digging Brooks, I’m sure you’ll reach China eventually.”

With Brooks successfully silenced, I finally looked over at Mike… and the most God awful sunglasses I’d ever seen. “Mike, I’m speechless.”

A grin pushed back his round cheeks as he adjusted the glasses on his face. “They’re just like Kanye’s.”

I nodded. “Perfect logic. Because Kanye’s flagrant disregard for the effects of his words and actions make him the perfect role model.”

“It’s all for fashion, Carrie. You should know that.”

Fashion or not, I thought. “Burn them,” I stated dryly, “and I want evidence that the assisted suicide was completed.”

Mike looked at me sadly, removing the glasses from his face and turning them over in his hands. His shoulders hunched as he shuffled back to his room. “I think they’re nice,” I heard him mumble.

I watched Mike disappear, and then a dead weight dropped to my shoulder. I ignored Books as I typed away at my laptop. His calm breathing left his breath warm against the skin of my neck. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him pouting up at me. “Carrie,” he said carefully, “I was just messing with you. I’d do you in a heartbeat.”

I moved my shoulder out from under his chin, raising my right eyebrow. “You sound like a manwhore,” I told him honestly.

He grinned, playfully, and leaned forward. I automatically leaned back against the edge of Mike’s couch, my eyebrow still raised as if to taunt him.

His breath fanned out over my face; warm, comforting. A small chill ran up my spine. I let my eyebrow fall, and a slow, lazy smile spread across my face. “What a dirty game you play, Brooksy,” I breathed.

His soft gaze dropped to my mouth, and then back up to my eyes. He sat, facing me, on my right side, and put a hand on the floor just off to my left. That hand softly touched the side of my thigh. I didn’t bat an eyelash at him, my smug grin still on my face.

At my lack of a reaction, he pulled back all the way and let out a loud, boisterous laugh. “My god Carrie, I break out my a-game and you don’t even blush.”

I fluttered my eyelashes at him playfully. “Brooksy, your a-game is severely lacking. I felt no butterflies fluttering around, and I don’t remember you taking my breath away. What do the women of Washington see in you?”

He stood up, his right hand extended in front of my face. Placing my Macbook on the floor, I grasped his hand and let him pull me up. He pulled me up so fast that it was like I weighed nothing at all. His right hand gripped mine, but his left hand was on my lower back, holding me to him. His ever-present dimple-showing smile was on his face. “Must be my boyish good looks and dimples.”

I rolled my eyes and bit my lip to keep myself from smiling. “Must be it,” I told him, mock seriously.

He hung his head, slightly dramatic, and then bashfully looked at me from under his lashes. I laughed at the sight. “I’m just going to have to try harder with you, aren’t I?”

Suddenly, there was a loud groan from somewhere behind me. Mike was back, or so I assumed as Brooks looked over my shoulder. “Why do you two do this every time I leave?”

I giggled and leaned into Brooks’ chest.

“Sorry, Mike. I didn’t realize you were so virginal,” Brooks teased, letting go of me.

I bent down to pick up my Macbook before one of them stepped on it. When I stood back up, Brooks and Mike were embraced in an intense man hug. I sighed, closing my Macbook. “Alright, you two. Save it for the honeymoon.”

They released on command. Mike walked Brooks and I to his door. “Where are you two going?”

Brooks shrugged his solid shoulders in response as he put on the sweatshirt he’d worn over here. After a brief look to me, he sent Mike a knowing look. “To show Carrie what every woman in Washington sees in me.”

I didn’t miss the innocent challenge behind his words. Even though he was talking to Mike, part of that was directed at me. Bring it on, I say.