Pygmalion

Awake, and not too happy about it. Freddie attempted to roll onto his stomach in his bed only to discover that he'd been perched on the edge of it in the first place. He hit the floor hard and let out a sharp, angry, "Owe!" before rolling onto his back and rubbing the pain out of his shoulder.

He opened his eyes against the evil sunshine and closed them again, clutching his head, in agonized regret. "I'm never drinking with and Irishman and an Englishman at the same time again."

"Wise decision."

Freddie rubbed his eyes to see the slender girl poised in the doorway looking down at him, her legs were bare and she wore a man's shirt over her frame. From the size and length of the sleeves she imagined it must have been Simon's. In her hand she held a slender glass full of tomato juice.

"Hello..." he said, sitting up quickly on his floor and regretting it. He lay back down. "Do I remember you?"

"I don't know, do you?" She sat down cross-legged on the floor holding out the glass. "Drink this, it has a bit of something in it. It's supposed to help."

Freddie took the glass and had a swallow, making a face. "According to who?"

"Mr. Boston.com," She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. "It has all the vital nutrients you need to overcome the general dehydration and withdrawal symptoms that subsist after a night of binge drinking."

"What are you, a computer?"

She cocked her head at him. "Is it that obvious?"

He smirked and sipped the terrible concoction again. "What's in this?"

"Mr. Boston advises against telling the imbiber what is in the beverage."

"You talk like a computer, I'll say that much." He passed the drink over to her and stood shakily. "So, it's Lisa, or something like that, right?"

"Eliza, actually..."

"And Simon picked you up at the White Lion?"

"No, you picked me up. Or I should say I picked you up after you read your poem in front of Henry's offices."

"Henry? Poem? I read a poem?" He walked over to the mirror to examine the red blotches under his eyes. He pulled his rumpled shirt and vest up over his head and was naked from the waist up.

"Yes, it was not a very good poem," Eliza said, rising from the floor to pick up the shirt and toss it in a hamper by the door. "But I thought it was wonderful of you to recite it."

Freddie turned around to see her staring at him, a strange look on her face. "What?"

"Nothing, you just, look so pathetic..."

"Thank you," he brushed past her through the door grabbing a towel off the doorknob. "And thank you also for the eye-opener. I'm sure you'll have no problem seeing yourself out. Have a pleasant day."

He was shocked to suddenly find her standing in front of him, blocking his way to the loo. "Your tone is quite abrasive. Have I done something wrong?"

Tugging at the collar of the oversized shirt. "Where is Simon, by the way?"

"He left earlier this morning along with Sean, they both had to get home for the Spring Holiday. They said you were staying, and that I should keep you company."

"So you slept with Simon..."

"And Sean, too. They introduced me to something called double penetration, have you ever tried that?"

Freddie shook his head. "You had a threesome?"

"Ménage à trois. Yes, it was quite pleasurable, I especially liked it when Simon was in my anus while Sean was stuffing his penis down my..."

"Ah, ho, okay, stop." Freddie put a hand on her shoulder patting it gently. "I'm sure it was fantastic, but I really don't want to hear the details. Would you mind stepping aside, please? I'd like to shower and shave and..."

"I thought guys liked hearing about when their buddies score. It's on all the discussion boards..."

"Discussion boards?" Freddie shook his head. "You're confusing Virtual Life with Real Life, baby. In RL you'll find a lot of guys like to play it close to the vest." He scratched his head. "So, Simon and Sean left you hear for me to deal with, huh?"

"Is 'deal with' some archaic American slang for 'slam'? Because that's what they said when they were leaving. "Liza, baby, you stay here so that Freddie can slam that sweet..."

Freddie put his hand over her mouth. Eliza stopped talking. Freddie took his hand away.

"Two complete strangers tell you to stick around and ball their roommate and you just roll with it?"

"Well, I have nothing better to do today, Freddie."

"Well... I..." he looked perplexed. "Well, neither have I, but that doesn't mean I'm just going to hop into bed with some skank!"

"Skank?" Eliza did a quick search with her browser and then her eyes lit up and she smacked Freddie across the face."

"Ouch! What the hell."

"I am not, quote-- a nasty ass female that sleeps with anything male for drugs, money, or popularity-- unquote!"

Freddie messaged his burning cheek. "Jesus, that hurt."

"Such is the point of the action, is it not?"

"Now you're talking like a computer again." He patted her shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry if I offended you. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings and I'm not trying to be overtly rude... although, I must admit I am doing a bad job of it... but I'm hung over, tired, dried out, and whatever was in that thing I just drank is causing a very bad taste in my mouth to get worse. So, I'm going to take a shower..."

"Can I join you?"

"I..." Freddie paused only a fraction of a second before shaking his head. "I'm not really into sloppy seconds... or thirds for that matter, so why don't you just get into your own clothes and when I get out we can go for a walk or something and just, you know, talk, huh?" He pushed her aside and went through the small door into the bath.

Eliza looked at the closed door, a puzzled look on her face, listening to the sudden burst of running water. Recalculating... She knocked on the door timidly, hearing the shower shut off and a grumbled expletive. The door opened a crack. "What!?"

"Are you saying that you don't find me... arousing?"

Freddie's expression shifted a bit as he tightened his grip on the towel he'd slung around his waist. "It's not that... I just."

"You prefer men?"

"No! I just, well, I'm not into fast women."

"Fast?"

"You know 'fast and loose,' 'free and easy,' I mean, sure your kind is good of a shag but where's the substance? I prefer liking women before I sleep with them."

"But sex isn't sleeping..."

"Don't be so literal." He ran a hand through his soapy hair. "Look, I'm being short with you, and I'm sorry, but you can't just switch off from one guy to the next and expect us to all be fine with it. Some guys are... not like that. Do you understand?"

There was a brief pause as Eliza's eyes, from Freddie's point of view, seemed to become a slightly brighter shade of blue and when she'd finished her organized search of the World Wide Web, she smiled. "You're a nice guy..."

It was almost a question, but then again there was a sort of tone to it that made Freddie suddenly feel like he'd been called the last unicorn. "I... Well, I'm just fickle, puritanical may be the right term, I'm not sure... You're standing very close."

Eliza was standing very close, looking up into the tall, thin boy's brown puppy-dog eyes. "I don't want to join you in the shower, but..." She paused, timidly.

"But?"

"Freddie, can I kiss you and have you mean it, please?"

"Huh?"

She jumped him then, pushing up on her toes and throwing her arms around his wet neck, pressing her lips to his. There were no tongues, no nibbling, no sucking or pawing, he fought it only momentarily and then his hands went from the towel at his waist to her hips and when eventually he pulled back from her, she went back down on her heels and smiled up at him. "Your towel..."

He grabbed the towel just before it fell completely away and watched the girl saunter into Simon's bedroom and shut the door soundly behind her. "What the hell is she?"