Date: Mon, 31 Mar 2008 11:49:48 -0700 (PDT)
From: Charlie Boi <charlie.likes@yahoo.com>
Subject: Rock-A-Bye (Ch. 2)

ROCK-A-BYE (Ch. 2)
*All names have been changed to protect the innocent, namely me.



"You're rummaging."

"What?" I asked, not really paying attention. I looked up from my clutch
bag. It was him.

"I said, you're rummaging," he repeated with a small smile.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I am," I answered. He looked at me quizzically,
expecting me to elaborate.

I just went back to rummaging inside my small bag. Then finally, with a
defeated sigh, I zipped it up.

"It's not here."

"What is?" he inquired.

I looked at him, not really sure we trust each other enough to start a
rather boring episode of my life.

"My house key. I must have forgotten to get it from the foyer bowl."

"The foyer bowl," he repeated with a slightly mocking tone.

"Yes, the foyer bowl, alright?" I exclaimed. I wasn't really in the mood to
joke around, and his little quips were beginning to get annoying. Under
normal circumstances though, I would've found them endearing. "It's a
ceramic bowl my mother got me on one of her Asian trips."

"Let me guess. You put it in your foyer," he started saying.

"No, smarty-pants, she did," I countered with a faint chuckle. "It's her
apartment after all, I just live in it. But basically, yeah, we have a
ceramic bowl from Asia, and it's in the foyer."

"I see," he said mockingly. "And this... foyer bowl, you put your keys in
it, yes?"

I laughed out loud. I couldn't help it.

"Yes, Sherlock, that's exactly right," I quipped. "But stupid idiotic me
had to forget it even though it was just... there."

Really? I had to do hand gestures too?

I cringed as soon as I realized I did them. How embarrassing! And I guess
he must have thought something else of it because the next thing I knew, he
was all... concerned and shit.

"Well, maybe you could just borrow your mom's key," he offered, his tone
full of concern.

"I can't," I said, glancing at his beautiful doleful eyes briefly. "She's
on a, quote-unquote, doctor's conference in Paris. Besides, she doesn't
live there, so she gave me the place. I'm the only one who lives there and
by default, the only one with the key."

"Well, what about the admin or whatever, won't they have a master copy?"

"Apparently, no they don't. I called earlier," I sighed. "So I could either
hire a locksmith or just wait for my friend."

"Oh, you have a roommate?"

"Nope," I answered matter-of-factly. "This friend is my emergency contact
person."

"Well, great!" he exclaimed. "Problem solved."

"Unfortunately, my friend's out of town until Wednesday."

"Oh. Bummer," he asked. "What are you gonna do now?"

"I honestly don't know yet. Guess I'll just hire a locksmith?"

His eyes suddenly widened.

"Or," he started excitedly. "You could stay over at my place 'til your
friend arrives."

I paused and looked him in the eye. Shit, he was serious.

"No, I can't do that, Walking Wet Dream," I said. "But thanks for the
offer; it's very generous of you."

"Come on, it'll be fun!" he said excitedly. "I'm staying at my parents'
house, though. And my mom's renovating the guest rooms, so you'll have to
stay in mine with me."

"Really, Walking Wet Dream, thank you but I can't accept that."

"Why not?" he asked emphatically, his face contorting into this little
puppy dog frown.

"Because," I stammered, a deep crimson blush creeping up my face. "It's not
appropriate."

"How come?" he asked innocently.

"Well for starters, you hardly know me. We're practically strangers to each
other! I could be a serial killer for all you know."

"Are you a serial killer?"

"No- "

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's gonna be a long weekend- "

"All the more reason it's gonna be fun! I was thinking of going to the
beach- "

"That's the thing! You have plans. I wouldn't wanna impose- "

"But you won't be imposing. I'm the one who offered."

"But I'll only get in your way- "

"Doubt it. I think it'll be more fun!"

"I eat a lot."

"We have tons of food!" he laughed.

"What about clothes, huh?"

"We'll wash what you have on now, and you can use some of my old
stuff. They're smaller that what I wear now," he paused and looked me up
and down. "They might still be a bit big on you though."

I shook my head indignantly.

"The answer is still a resounding `No!' Walking Wet Dream."

He looked at me plaintively.

"Give me one good reason why."

I looked at him like he was crazy.

"Okay. Here it is. YOU'RE. MY. BOSS." I made sure I stressed the words
clearly in case he missed any of it.

"So??" he asked, his voice going a notch higher.

"So?! What do you mean `So?'" I exclaimed. "It's gonna be weird! I can't
expect such favors from someone who I've only met a few days ago, let alone
let it come from someone who's gonna be my bo- "

"Bullshit," he interjected. "I bet you're just scared."

"What?!" I cried incredulously.

"Yeah, I bet you're scared, asshole," he responded in a surprisingly calm
manner. "You don't wanna do this because you're scared. You're so freakin'
scared that for the first time in a long while, you might actually have
some fun. You've been alone so for so long that you're scared you might
actually gain a friend this time around and enjoy his company!"

I couldn't help but stare at him. Was this guy for real?

"I- " I began. But it turned out I didn't really know how to respond to
what he'd just said.

"You, what?" he asked, his brows furrowed with seriousness. "Think I'm
right?"

"I- "

"It won't hurt to be friends with someone, Poor Little Rich Boy," he said
softly, cutting me off. "Stop withdrawing yourself from the world. Everyone
needs someone every now and then."

I choked back tears. What is it with this guy?

"This is me reaching out to you. All you need to do is take my hand."

Well, whatever it is, it did the trick.

"Okay."

He looked me straight in the eye, as if making sure I wasn't kidding.

"Okay, what?"

A small smile had started forming at his luscious red lips, which he tried
to suppress to compose himself. If he was only a girl, it would have looked
adorable, and I would have kissed him right then and there.

Or not, since I was painfully shy.

"Okay, I'll stay over."

+ + +

His parents' house turned out to be a small mansion. Figures, I thought,
since they owned The Company and all.

As his shiny black sports car swept up the winding driveway, I started
having second thoughts. I looked over at him in the driver's seat. He was
still trying to suppress his smile. He had even started humming Chris
Brown's With You as we drove the twenty-minute drive back to his house in
silence.

Everything's gonna be alright... right?

(To be continued...)