You Trained These Lips When They Were Champs

Thrre seconds after Tom hangs up, my cell phone rings with a different number.

Jeff's! Yay!

"City morgue; you stab 'em, we slab 'em. Fat or thin, short or tall; we got a box that'll fit 'em all!" I say by way of greeting.

He chuckles some, and on the webcam I see everyone leave the area. "So," he says, looking around. "I guess everyone decided to let us talk privately?"

I roll my eyes. "Privacy... so underrated. I bet," I state, raising my voice a couple decibels, "that they're on the other side of the door listening to our-" he cuts me off.

"They left the suite in search of munchies. I hope they didn't go for one of those vending machines... they're never trustworthy."

"Very true," I reply, nodding understandingly. "They've eaten whole twenties out of my wallet. But, I guess, when you're desperate..." I shrug.

"Anyways, about you. You said you work in an office? Like what kind of office are we talking about?"

"It's not as much of an office as a salon, hence the hair and piercings. Pretty much, if I went jod hunting anywhere else, I'd be like, S.O.L. because I 'don't project a professional image'... bullcrap."

"Ah... any sign of a social life at all?"

"Nope. Everything I do, I do with Chloe. Shows, movie premieres, Wal-Mart... You name the place, we've wreaked havok there."

"So no... romance?" he asks, tilting one side of his face towards the camera and getting a goofy smile.

"Zilch, unless you count Chloe being my lesbian lover..." I say deadpan.

"Damn, and I was hoping I'd have a chance!" He fake-pouts.

"Chillax, mate, I'm joking. I'm only bi," I reply, smiling. "And me and Chloe, we're tight like tigers, but we've got too much friendship goin' on that we couldn't even try without it being like TOTALLY awkward later. Not, of course, to say that we wouldn't if we could, the girl's a total fox. You've seen her!" I laugh.

"Yeah, I see where you're coming from there, but there's already someone I'm interested in."

DAMN. I should have known I don't have a chance.

"And besides, she clearly likes Dave."

We keep talking for like, an hour or so, I lost track of time, about the most random crap in the world.

x TIME LAPSE x

"So, being only nineteen... Did you go to beauty school so you could work in the salon?"

"Nopers. All through my entire life, my mom taught me about hair because she's been a stylist since she was a little older than me. Also, some of my more... rebellious friends always let me do their hair in high school, then people came flocking to me because I did such a good job every time. Then recently, when I graduated high school last year, my aunt opened up a salon, and I got offered a job there. I'm gonna work there till I get my Ph.D. in kinesthology, and also facial reconstructionism for forensics."

"Like Angela from Bones?

"And Dr. Brennan. She's a kinesthologist."

"Ah. I know the show pretty well, 'cause the guys make me watch it with them. I like the cases and stuff but... the dead people bother me. Dead anything bothers me. Yuck."

"I'm not so keen on it either, but in order to be what I'm going to be, I have to look at skulls and damaged bones. Which, I suppose, wouldn't be so bad, so long as they... don't... smell."

"I see exactly where you're coming from. Living with three other guys pretty much 24/7/365, though... my sense of smell has kinda up and died. They burn crap when they cook (I'm the only decent cook out of all of us, and I still can only make mac 'n' cheese), we sometimes go for days wuthout showers-" I make an 'eew' face- "we get all sweaty at shows, and you don't even want to know about the bathroom. Yuck."

"Yeah, Jeff, that's really... charming." I look at him with my 'eew' face; I still had it on from the shower thing. I start laughing. I have a really weird idea... I'm gonna turn on music and let's dance."

I open iTunes and click on shuffle, then press play. "Hollaback Boy" by Cobra Starship (oh look, Fueled By Ramen!) plays first, and I have a laugh attack. That song ALWAYS makes me laugh. "Not that one!" I say, breathless from laughing. I hit the right arrow key and then it's "Loose Lips" by Kimya Dawson. "Nope." I keep hitting nest until "Sorrow" by Flyleaf comes on. "I like this one." I smile. Rock ballad!

I waltz with an imaginary partner (yeah, I know how to waltz) and he starts singing along, an octave lower than Lacey.

He has a beautiful singing voice, which really makes me wonder why Dave is the backup singer and not him.

The song ends and he says, low & quiet into the pickup of the phone, "I wish I was actually dancing with you." It's almost a whisper. I finally realize that he was also dancing.

"Me too," I reply just as "Knife Called Lust" by Hollywood Undead starts playing.

"Six days." I nod.

I reach for my phone to take it off speaker, and realize that we've been talking for an hour and forty-five minutes. Good god.

"Hey, it's been... well, for lack of a better word, amazing, and you're really great to talk to... but my phone bill's gonna be like a million bucks, and I have nowhere near that kinda cash."

"Oh, okay... well, I think I might make a Cute Is What We Chat For just so I can talk to you like whenever, so be on the lookout. Thanks a lot, really, you're one of the first girls I've talked to who doesn't go all teenie on me when I say something to them. I really appreciate it. It's been really nice. So, goodnight.. I'll see you in a few days." I return his salutation and we hang up.