Calypso High
Episode 4: Friday Night
Marianna tapped away quite miserably at her aging Mac's keyboard. It was yet another Friday night, another day she had taken off from work on the off-chance that someone would want to go to a movie with her. Yet again, nobody was available. Everyone she knew was still paired off into happy little couples. Nobody wanted a miserable single like her along.
So here she was, writing stories about people in a made-up town where she was the greatest thing since sliced bread (whatever was so great about sliced bread, anyway), and her friends were just the damn freakiest things on the block. Although, making Frogman any freakier than he already was was proving to be quite a feat. Next thing she knew, she'd be making him respect her girlfriends, just for shock value.
About the only consolation was that Dream's old boyfriend, Uly, who was in college and should have had a life by now, was also online. Between inspired paragraphs of parody, Mari clicked over to his instant messages and tried to convince him that there were better things in life than elf/dryad hybrids with long blonde hair and pointy ears. Like, oh, say, short dumpy wizards-in-training? Who had a nifty natural pink streak in her hair over her temple?
It was useless, of course. Even those males of the species who pretended to be mature college men were in fact just little boys with facial hair.
Mari sometimes felt like throwing something.
She punctuated her next five messages with ::sigh::'s, prompting Uly to ask if there was anything wrong. She wished she could throw something all the way to his dorm room, with enough force to knock him out of his chair and give him bruises in the worst possible places. That might (and it was a big might) give him a clue. But noticing the obvious never was one of his strong points, as evidenced by his continuing shock at his and Dream's break-up all those months ago. /Yes, Uly,/ she wrote, /there is something wrong. Do you realize how pathetic it is that we're sitting here on a Friday night, talking to each other, instead of being out with people, partying and whatever else normal people do on a Friday night?/
/Oh, is that it?/ he replied. Marianna kicked the leg of her chair in frustration. Another message came in. /My problem is that I don't drink, so I choose not to go out. Too much trouble being the designated driver all the time. But you're underage and I don't think most of your friends like to drink. What's your problem?/
/You are just so damn sensitive sometimes, UPChuck! My problem is, I'm not dating anyone! Therefore, I am not invited to go out on these "couples nights" everyone is so keen on having all the time./
/Oh. Sorry./
/You better be./
/I'm going to introduce you to a friend of mine... he's in sort of the same position as you are. No girlfriend, no car, nothing to do on Friday nights except talk to me./
/I don't want to talk to someone who's as much of a loser as me./
/Are you implying that I'm not a loser?/
Mari groaned. Leave it to Uly to take that the best way possible. /You're still a loser. Who's your friend?/
/His name is Edvard. He's going to im you in a minute./
/he better not im me with "hey hot mamma, how's it goin" or I'll have your... ahem... on a silver platter for breakfast/
/my what?/
/::ignoring you...::/
Mari got up and went to the kitchen to grab a soda. She managed to catch a glimpse of the clock on the Mr. Coffee and noticed it was after eleven. No parents up... she was still going to catch hell in the morning for staying up so late. She had to be at work before seven. Damn.
When she got back to the computer, there were a few messages waiting for her. From Uly, /he said he imed you/, followed immediately by, /are you still there? he says you haven't answered yet/.
There was also a /hello.../ from someone with the screenname DND9547500. She guessed that was Edvard. Looked like she'd at least have to say hello now.
/Greetings. I am Mari, goddess of all that is Evil. Do you still wish to speak to me?/ she sent. Please, let that scare him away...
To Uly, whose screenname was UPChuck, she sent, /damn you. I went to get a drink. you couldn't have told me your friend was a D&D fan?/
/I only associate with the best... what the hell did you say to him? he says he's in love!/ returned almost immediately.
At the same time, the IM from DND9547500 pinged. /Yes, I still want to speak to you. I'm intrigued. Tell me more, oh goddess./
Mari groaned. /Uly, I am so going to kill you. At least he understands the concept of a complete sentence.../ Now, if she could only compose a response to Edvard... oh, why not have fun with this? This geeky friend of Uly's could probably get really scared of a girl if she all of a sudden started treating him like a man. /I wish to copulate with you, human. I will describe to you my lair, and you shall describe to me what you will do to pleasure me./ If anything would scare the guy, this was it.
A few moments passed, during which Mari wrote another section for her latest story. If she stayed up till one, which was not a good idea, even if she had to keep talking to Uly, there was a chance she'd finish this story and be able to post it on her website before heading to bed. That would satisfy the vultures that fed upon themselves... um, that is to say, the friends who enjoyed reading about their parodized selves. People didn't tend to be particularly observant of their own bad qualities, and therefore didn't notice that the characters in Mari's stories were based on them. It made the stories even more fun to write.
A ping. /okay, girlie, what are you doing to him?/ Uly sounded... upset? Curious? Hard to tell without emoticons or some such to convey tone.
Another ping. /I agree, goddess. Go ahead and describe your lair./
Ping again. /ANSWER ME NOW!/ Okay, Uly was definitely agitated. Better answer him first.
/I'm sure he's telling you everything. Are you jealous?/ she sent.
/Jealous of what? He's not telling me anything, he's stopped iming me altogether. I want to know what's going on that's got him so distracted./
/oh... we just started cybering/
The silence from Uly's window gave Mari a chance to create a "lair" for Edvard. Hey, she was up anyway, why not do something she'd always wanted to do? Plus, it was completely safe. Edvard didn't know anything about her but her screenname, and she tended to change that every few months for security reasons, anyway. /Human, listen carefully: My lair is a large room, hung with dark tapestries. There are no windows. There are no doors. You have no escape but my pleasure./ She sent, hoping to keep Edvard occupied while she thought of something more.
/In the centre of the room,/ she typed, using the British spelling for her perceived grandiosity of it, /there is a chaise longue/, testing his knowledge, /upon which I am seated. There is about the room an assortment of pillows. The floors are polished black marble. This is what you have to work with. Pleasure me./
A send, and with luck Mari could sit back and enjoy the incoherent sexual thoughts of this boy.
/you don't know what you're getting into.../ Uly sent. Mari shrugged and started composing a reply, but Uly signed off with a door-slam sound.
She was still waiting for Edvard's response, and took the free moment to work on her story a bit. This one was shaping up nicely, with a bar-room fight and extra-marital affairs. Soap operas were so much fun. She wondered briefly why she hadn't started writing one sooner. Probably because she hadn't known such terribly interesting people to base characters on.
A ping from Edvard. /I apologize for having ripped open your dress, goddess. Please forgive me. I also apologize for having ripped open a pillow. Forgive me for this, also, for I required a feather. I am running this feather up and down your naked body.../
Mari leaned forward, intrigued. This could become very interesting, indeed...
* * *
"...and she'll have fun, fun, fun, till her daddy takes the t-bird away (fun, fun till her daddy takes the t-bir--" Mari slammed her hand down on the clock-radio. How the hell they could get away with playing perky music at six in the morning was beyond her ken.
She rolled onto her back, sheets falling aside and cold air hitting her knees where they were exposed beneath Yellow Submarine boxers. If not being allowed to have heat in her bedroom had one advantage, it was that waking up was a permanent thing. Then it hit her.
"Oh my god," Mari groaned. "What the hell did I do last night?"
* * *
Okay, everyone, that's it for this time! No promises as to what comes next, because I never write what I say I will. Also no promises as to when the next story will come out, because that never happens, either. Hope you enjoyed this HIGHLY FICTIONALIZED account of the loss of my cyber-virginity. Please note the bit where I said this is HIGHLY FICTIONALIZED. Do not make any assumptions about who I did this with, or how I was introduced to him, or whether I did anything like this after this incident. Any evidence of speculation on anybody's part will be severely punished. Also, anyone who's disappointed by a lack of details after Edvard's "Forgive me..." IM should go have their brain scrubbed, because it is very, very dirty! Thank you, and good night!
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