Authors: Noel Merczel
"You have your computer," he told her
. "Unless you want to pay the bill...I mean, you're welcome to pay it if you want. Then you can get any feature your little heart desires."
That was her dad's idea of humor.
So Andrea settled on watching a re-run of America's Next Top Model
.
She had the automatic record set up for whenever the show came
on.
Sometimes Andrea, Drew, Lisa, and Patty would get together and binge watch the show
.
They would pop microwave popcorn and spend the afternoon critiquing all the girls on TV; discussing who was the prettiest, the bitchiest, the most photogenic, etc....
Of course, Lisa was always the biggest critic, claiming she was far more attractive than any of the girls on the show.
Actually, Lisa planned to go on the show
. She was currently saving up all
her Maybelline money, since she was a salesperson there.
Although Lisa's idea of "saving up" was not most people's idea, since she was constantly buying make-up, clothes, and hair extensions
.
Sometimes, Andrea prefered to watch Next Top Model by herself
. That way,
she could
just relax and take it all in without the constant interruption of other people. Often, really funny things happen
ed on the show, like the time that super tall girl kept falling down while she was making a Cover Girl commercial wearing roller-skates.
Although tonight, Andrea wished her friends were sitting beside her
.
She was starting to think Alone Time was way over-
rated. She didn't
even feel like drawing
. She had
that jumpy feeling you get from drinking too much coffee
. Only,
she hadn't consumed any coffee at all, since she
was too lazy to make a new pot.
Andrea was idly wishing they had one of those Keurig coffee makers like Drew’s family had when she heard it again
.
WHOMP!
It was that weird thumping noise... only this time, it was much louder.
Andrea almost wished her dad was there, yelling at her to go clean up her "pig-sty" of a
room.
"STUPID BUGS!" she shouted.
Unfortunately, she had seen this particular cycle of Next Top Model a million times, so it wasn't doing a good job of distracting her.
Therefore, Andrea decided it was the perfect time to have a Mr. Sexy Jogger fantasy, figuring that a fantasy would help relax her mind and put her in a better place.
A much
sexier
place!
She settled back into the couch and closed her
eyes.
In this fantasy, Andrea is strolling
past Mr. Sexy Jogger’s house.
She is wearing her brand new white dress with the pink flowers from Maybelline's, and her really cute pink flip-flops with the lavender flowers attached.
Mr. Sexy Jogger is out in his yard….
um, what should he be doing? Okay, he’s spraying some weeds with weed killer out by the street.
“Don’t breath!” Mr. Sexy Jogger jokes as she walks by.
“Uh-oh,” Andrea says.
Then she holds her breath, puffing her cheeks way out.
“No, I was just kidding,” he tells her
. “It’s perfectly safe. Unless you’re a weed.”
“Whoo!” she exclaims, letting the air out of her cheeks.
“So you’re a weed murderer and a jogger,” Andrea says
, making witty and interesting conversation. “That’s what I know about you.”
“And you wear cute dresses and water the flowers a lot,” he says, with a twinkle in his eyes. “That’s what I know about you. You really like flowers. Oh. And I think you really like me, too.”
Then he winks at her.
Andrea blushes.
Mr. Sexy Jogger knows she likes him
!
“Want some lemonade?” he asks. “You look like you could use some.”
“I do?” she asks
.
Then she giggles.
“Actually, I was just thinking, boy, I sure could use a nice tall glass of lemonade!” she agrees. “You must be psychic!”
“C’mon, Flower Girl,” he exclaims, leading her inside his house.
Where’s his wife
? Andrea can’t help but wonder.
Nevertheless, she follows him in, feeling both nervous and excited at the same time.
“My wife is at her sister’s,” Mr. Sexy Jogger informs her
. “Oh, that’s something else you should know about me. I’m married.”
He leads Andrea into the living room, where he instructs her
to sit down on an over-stuffed plaid couch. Obediently,
she sits down and waits
for him to make the next move.
Andrea crosses her legs, in order to look more
sophisticated.
Mr. Sexy Jogger's dreamy velvet brown eyes make a slow smoldering assessment of her bare thighs.
Andrea doesn't mind.
Her legs are very smooth and curvy - unlike his wife’s gross
chicken legs. In
the fantasy, she has just shaved and moisturized them.
Suddenly, Andrea feels
something happening.
She feels it happening
down
there...
She experiences this sensation both in her fantasy, and for real...
It's
such a delicious feeling. The chemistry between
them is so strong, it’s almost magical!
She feels
so incredibly alive. All of
her senses are on high alert…
“Yea, I kind of figured,” she says, in response to his comment about being married. “All the good ones are married!”
Mr. Sexy Jogger, she notices, looks
even better up close.
Taller, too.
Really
tall.
Like basketball player tall.
He ma
kes her feel so small and delicate and...girly. For some reason, she feels so safe with him, like he could protect her
from anything.
Even zombies
!
If they were real, that is...which they aren't, of course.....
He has such a strong jaw with just the right amount of stubble so he appears rugged, yet
not like a bum.
In the fantasy, Mr. Sexy Jogger is wearing a red and white striped polo shirt that really shows off his muscles
. The shirt
also makes him look prosperous and suburban like he plays golf... and
deliciously older.
Guys Andrea's age, at least in her town, hardly ever wore polo shirts.
“Hey, don’t go away!” he says
. “I’ll get you that lemonade!”
Then he's
gone.
Andrea's eyes dart
around the room.
What am I doing here
?
she wonders.
What’s going to happen
?
Do I want it to happen
?
I shouldn’t be here. It’s not right. I
should just leave
.
Mr. Sexy Jogger comes back with a tall glass of frosty cold lemonade and hands it to her
. Then he sits down on the couch r
ight next to her, as in RIGHT next to her!
She
absorbs the warmth of his body all up and down her side which makes her feel all gooey and melty and wonderful...
but also sort of nervous.
Andrea takes a sip of her icy cold drink.
“Sensational!” she exclaims
. “Did you make this
yourself?”
He takes the glass out of her hand and rests it on the coffee table.
“Yea," he tells her .
“Just for you. I knew you were coming and I wanted to be ready.”
When he says the word “ready,
” he looks down at his crotch.
Andrea gasps
. There’s a gigantic bulge there
.
“What about your wife?” she asks nervously.
“She hates blowjobs,” he confesses, just as Andrea suspected.
“Really?” she says
. “
That's weird, because blowjobs are my specialty.”
“Oh yea, Flower Girl?” Mr. Sexy Jogger says,
with a dirty chuckle. “
Wanna prove that?”
WHOMP!
"STUPID NOISE!" Andrea shouted.
Messed up her perfect fantasy, just when it was getting really juicy...
Oh well. To be continued later
. R
ight now, she needed
something to eat.
Andrea quickly slipped past the sliding glass doors on the way to the kitchen, averting her eyes so she didn't have to see if an evil zombie was standing outside the door
.
She
had to stop thinking like that!
She was creeping herself out even more.
Besides, if there was an evil rotting corpse stationed right outside the sliding glass doors, she could always call 9-1-1.
Andrea had to chuckle as she hunted for ingredients inside the refrigerator. What would she say to the 9-1-1 operator?
I'm so scared, there's a zombie on my patio?
Oh brother! They would probably think it was some kind of crank call from a
little
kid. After all, that's what she would think.
But w
hat if a zombie suddenly appeared behind her? What would she do?
Stab it in the head with a sharp knife
,
that's what
! Andrea told herself.
She eyed her dad's Guy Fieri steak
knife set that was displayed prominently in the butcher block next to the sink, idly wondering if zombie's skulls were as soft and squishy as they appeared to be on TV.
You have to get em' in the brain
, Andrea thought
, tossing spinach leaves into a bowl.
Then she told herself she was being ridiculous.
There was no such thing as zombies, damn it!
Andrea proceeded to assemble her favorite salad, which consisted
of spinach leaves, feta cheese, grape tomatoes, multi-grain croutons and balsamic vinegar on top.
She nervously peered out the kitchen window as she worked
.
What the heck was that
?
She thought she saw something move in the small wooded area at the back of the property.
There were
definitely deer around. They
ate the tulips in her
mom's garden every spring.
And yet...she could swear the shape looked more human than animal.
What if it's a crazy person who knows I'm home alone
?
Andrea thought.
That was a more logical thing to fear than
zombies....
Nahhh...this is a safe neighborhood
, she tried to convince herself
.
It's gated.
Visitors
need to be called in
.
And yet,
Andrea wasn't stupid. S
omeone could easily sneak into the so-called gated community via someone’s yard that backed up to the highway...
She carried the bowl of salad back to the couch along with a bag of pita chips, a tub of hummus, and a can of coke
.
Andrea had her balancing act down so well, she sometimes wondered
if she should apply for a waitressing job. The only problem was
that she was afraid she would burst into tears if a customer was nasty to her and then she wouldn't make any tips.
Once she was settled back on the couch, Andrea pushed
the "play" button on the remote control. The judging panel continue
d.
"That Brittany really needs to go home!" Andrea announced to the TV, attempting to break up the eerie silence that had settled into the room like a black cloud of doom
. “Her jaw is way too square!”
Andrea's stomach was in such a jumble, she couldn't even enjoy her
salad.
Finally, she decided to call Drew.
"I feel so creeped out!" Andrea confessed, feeling
wimpy. "I knew I shouldn't have watched that stupid zombie show."
"You said that show was lame," Drew reminded her
. "I mean...it wasn't even scary. Just a bunch of people
screwing around with zombies in the background.”
Andrea could hear Drew crunching noisily on something.
"I know," she
agree. "I'm just not used to being home alone at night, that's all."
"I thought you were looking forward to all that peace and quiet," Drew pointed out
. "You told me you wanted time alone to work on your art, remember? You said you would finally be able to concentrate without your dad telling you to go clean your room every second and Fox news blaring out of the TV."
Andrea's Dad, a true conservative, was
obsessed with Fox news.
"Yea, I know, I know," Andrea agreed
. "But I think I changed my mind. So...do you want to come over?"
"Sure," Drew said around her crunching
. "Oh! Wait a minute
!
I have the most brilliant idea in the universe! You're home alone...your parents won't be back until Sunday night....we can invite Lisa and Patty and turn it into a
..."