Sass 101

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Chapter Two

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To Freya’s astonishment, Paula didn’t pull her over to the side and scold her for the random outburst. She seemed to ignore Freya entirely throughout the rest of the day. On occasion, Paula would casually bump into her and not recognize whomever she ran into. A bit frustrating on Freya’s part, but she was fine and dandy that she didn’t have to deal with Paula until the next day.

Ugh, I don’t want to think about that.

Freya rubbed her forehead in a circular motion, trying to relieve the tension between her temples. She was slouching on her Lazy Boy couch; her body was spread out. Freya arrived at her flat about thirty minutes ago. She didn’t do anything, but slipped her shoes off and plopped down on the sofa. The remote held in the palm of her hand as she was searching to find something decent on the tellie.

The work in the office, the constant running back and forth achieving the goal to please Isaac, was draining. She couldn’t image what Isaac must feel like at the end of the day. If she experienced this exhaustion, he must be sleep deprived.

Na, maybe not, he has girls who help with that. Probably.

Freya’s strawberry blonde hair was lying on the arm of the sofa, she happened to tug at a blanket from underneath the small table. Now she was wrapped inside it like a caterpillar forming a cocoon. Her eyelashes flittering on her cheek bones along with her eyelids drooping. This was her oasis. Nothing could do her any harm. The world seemed distance, almost like another realm as time began to slip through her hands. That is until, Scooby Doo’s theme song awoken her.

Her body shot up like Zeus happened to crack a lightning bolt on her head. Her iPhone was vibrating on the small table; she scooped it up not bothering to check her caller identification. She answered the call. She knew who ruined her precious naptime. “Hello,” she answered, “Sorry Louis for not texting you earlier. I just got home-”

“Wait, hold on a minute. Who is this ‘Louis’ you speak of?” a sarcastic remark came from the phone.

Freya ran her hand over her face.

Shit. I’m going to get hell for not telling her.

“Hello, Abby. How are you?” Freya answered, sweetly as possible.

“Don’t be changing the subject, Freya. I know you. Who is this Louis? How come I’ve never heard him before? And why would you be telling him you got home? Oh my! Are you going on a date with him?!”

The questions never seized. Then again, it never does with Abby. Freya met Abby when she transferred over to the states applying for college. Freya knew absolutely nobody in this vast new world, until she met her lovely roommate who turned out to be the Abigail Ross. Not too long, they graduated from college. Freya went into the studio business while Abigail went into writing for the New York Times newspaper. Abby is the closest friend she has ever had in her lifetime.

“I’m so proud of you, girl! Finally, I’ve been worrying about you. You have been fixating on Isaac for a mighty long time. It’s pretty unhealthy you know. Plus, you are his personal assistant and all. I don’t even think it would be possible for you to shag him, let alone date him, since you work together and all-”

“Abby!” Freya yelled, chuckling a bit to herself.

“What just speaking the truth here,” she answered.

“Uh-huh.”

“What? I am,” she countered.

Freya chuckled, leaning back down on the couch. The tellie was playing in the background. She ran her fingers over the couch arm thinking of a way to adjust the subject of the conversation.

“So, are you going to tell me who this Louis is?” Abby asked, impatiently.

Ugh, I guess I asked for this. I brought my past to the present.

“He is a friend,” Freya answered simply as she resituated in her seat.

“A friend,” Abby replied, “You don’t say. And when did you meet this friend of yours? Because I don’t recall you ever mentioning him.”

Time seemed to take a toll, Freya held her iPhone next to her ear. Her eyes engrossed on the tellie screen, but her mind was elsewhere. On the first day of school, she made acquaintance with Louis Tomlinson. Back then; he was a regular person … not famous by any means. He was a bit known for his acting skills. He was the class clown of Doncaster. Freya heard of him throughout her life during school. But, she didn’t get to meet him until her second year. Louis and Freya happened to share one class, the only course she was horrible at. Drama class.

During the time, Freya had to take an elective course to get one of her required credits checked off. Low and behold, drama was winking at her through the paper, saying “Come on, I know you want me.” She hesitantly scheduled in the class. She knew absolutely no one who was taking the lecture. Then again, she had no friends in any of her classes. Of course, she chatted with a few of her peers but never gone into a deep relationship.

However, he made Freya desire a relationship: acquaintance, friend, or partner. He left an imprint, a full on ruby paint handprint on her brain. She has scrubbed and cleansed it, hoping to get him off. Not even Windex could weaken the Palma granite stain. She let her mind wonder back to the first day of drama class. She was recollecting, an out of body experience.

Freya remembered the day she met Louis.

Doncaster was proud of their Arts Department, and yet they designed their building to have the Arts Department on the opposite side of the Academic Wing. Freya could direct a freshman specific details on how to get to point A and point B in this maze of hell. As in what her fellow peers thought about high school. Therefore, on the first day of drama class, she strolled hesitantly into the room. It was five minutes before class started; the walls were plastered in posters of plays and musicals. Next to the door, there was a billboard clustered with billfolds of musical and plays, even a few from Broadway in America.

There was no soul in sight. The professor wasn’t accounted for, Freya kept on walking to the desks. She built camp in the second chair near the chalkboard and second seat from the door. Yes, she remembered where exactly she sat … she never relocated in that class. Freya began to organize her notebook and pencils. Prepare. That’s the best word to describe Freya; she is ready for any curve ball. But not this curve ball.

“Hello,” a confident voice entitled.

Freya nearly fell out of her seat towards the unexpected sound. Steadily, she lifted her head revealing the announcer. His shiny brunette hair was close-fitted around his head, a lazy eye hinting mischief deep in his dark ocean blue eyes, and acne along the edges of his face. Freya could see the out line of them because his hair concealed them up. His attire consisted fainted jeans, white T-shirt, and a black hoodie zipped up to the middle of his torso.

“You excited for drama class?” he asked, curiously.

He reached towards the desk on Freya’s right.

“Um-”

“I’m surprised nobody is here yet. They will probably be here later. I usually stroll in at the last second, but I wanted to make a good impression towards the professor.”

He kept on rabbling on. Freya sat soundlessly waiting for him to let her reply.

“But truth be told, I’m excited. I’ve been in several plays, but I’m hoping that taking this class will help me land a lead in the upcoming musical this spring!”

Freya gazed at him. He held a look of confusion. “Do you not know the musical this year?”

She shook her head, not daring to speak.

“It’s Grease! Oh, it would be magnificent if I could portray Danny.”

He wants to try out to be Danny? I guess he can pull off Danny’s look.

“Are you going to try out for Grease?” he asked.

Freya blinked rapidly. “N-no,” she simply answered.

“Why not?” he seemed a bit taken back.

Freya was walking on eggshells. “I’m not good at acting.”

“Na,” he said, “I’m sure you are great. Everyone is their own worst critic.”

I wish he was right.

“Yeah,” she replied, glancing down at her fingernails. Freya was praying he wasn’t going to ask any more questions. A few students began to fill the empty desks, as the guy kept on looking her way. Freya started to stare ahead of her, hoping he would get the hint.

A genuine smile laced on his lips. He leaned back into the chair gazing at her, “What’s your name?”

She bit her lip, hissing under her breath. Freya didn’t want to exchange identities; after all she knew what was going to happen. Time and time again, the people she unlocks her glass case heart in tended to shatter her heart to pieces. Or he could go the other way, pity will discolor his gorgeous ocean blue eyes, and he will never communicate to her again. Experience has proven her correct 99.9 percent of the time.

The guy observed her nonspeaking state and took the opportunity.

“Well, I am Louis. As in Louis Tomlinson,” he replied, without Freya answering his question. He held his hand out for her to touch.

The moment of truth, she had to make a decision. Freya glances back at this moment, and she’s still not certain if she made the right choice. The palm of her hand met his palm, Louis and her exchanged a handshake.

“Hi,” she said, “I’m Freya Hayes.”

First glance, Louis was calm and collective. But, when the words spilled from her lips. She felt his hand go deadweight. The genuine smile evaporated and pity was replaced. Freya held her gaze into his eyes. Neither one looked away, she knew something was going to happen. She took the plunge. Now she has to live with the decision.

“Freya! Hello, earth to Freya! Anyone home!” a voice blared into her eardrum.

Freya was knocked back into the present. No longer dwelling in the past.

“Sorry Abby. I was distracted,” Freya claimed, truthfully.

“Hmm, I wonder what or who is distracting you?” she asked, sarcastically.

“Whatever,” Freya countered, not having a witty reply. She was never good at coming up with snarky remarks.

I guess Louis will have to help me in that department, too.

“Okay, let’s be serious,” Abby said, “What’s really going on Freya? Why haven’t you told me of whatever you are doing? Is it because you think I will not back you up?”

Freya licked her bottom lip. Abby could read the small details through the lines. She knew when Freya wasn’t so good or when she was hiding something. This wasn’t any different from those times.

“Freya?”

“Abby, um, the answer to question is-”

The knock at the door interrupted Freya’s train of thought.

“Freya! You there! I hear you talking to someone.”

Crap!

Freya ripped the blanket off of her. She jumped up from the sofa heading towards the door, trying not to create ruckus.

“Who on earth is that? Oh, goodness. Is that Louis? Is he there?!” Abby squeaked on the line.

“Yes, it is Abby. I’m so sorry. I have to take this.”

“But, wait! You still haven’t answered my question-”

“I promise after Louis goes home I will call you back and explain everything,” Freya answered.

Silence was all Freya heard on the other side of the line.

“You promise?” Abby spoke.

“Yes, I promise!”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop it, Abby! I have to answer the door, I promise!”

Abby chuckled. “I’m just teasing you. Ha-ha. And you better. I will be counting the minutes.”

“Okay, got it.”

“Have fun darling. Tell me all your dirty little details later,” she giggled.

Freya rolled her green eyes. “Bye Abby.”

“Goodbye darling!”

Man, she was on a roll today. I could’ve asked her to help me out instead of Louis. Wait, no. She would never help me. She despises Isaac

Freya ended the call and then stared at the door. Louis was pounding the door again.

“Come on, Eya. We are losing daylight here. Time to do lessons,” Louis’ voice echoed behind her flat door.

Freya rolled her eyes. She opened her door uncovering a figure leaning against the wall. His arms were across his torso, a dark shirt with a quote “Love will tear us apart” was displayed on his chest. He wore matching dark jeans and original converse cradle his feet. His chin was rough with little stumps of hair.

Guess he didn’t feel like shaving today. Not that I’m complaining.

“You look like your going out,” Freya stated, before walking back to the middle of the room expecting Louis to follow pursuit.

“You observe very well.” Louis grinned, not taking a step into the flat. “But you forgot one other person.”

Freya was motionless in her spot. “No,” she whimpered.

Louis stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. “Yes.”

“No,” she answered, more confident in her voice.

“Freya,” he cooed, “Remember I flew over the Atlantic Ocean for you. You wanted my help. Now, let me help you.”

She ran her fingers over the hem of her shirt. Her brain was laying out her opinions. Uncertainty sickened to her stomach, not knowing where Louis will take them. Worried her immensely.

“Where are we going?” she asked, shattering the silence.

Louis smiled mischievously, and winking, “You will have to wait and see.”


**********

“Why are we here?”

Freya shrieked near Louis’ ears. His arms sat on the edge of the bar, leaning back in his seat. Freya held her hands in her lap. She was in a small box, not liking the lack of personal space. A gentleman paid the barman and carried four shots towards his friends, but of course he didn’t leave without casually brushing Freya’s back.

Thank God, I didn’t change into a dress. Thank you, God.

Her confidence was shrinking into her shell, her lips glued together after her question. Music was blasting throughout the speakers in the entire nightclub. The natural lights were dimed only could determine a figure with distance. Colorful strobe lights were replaced by actually seeing the nightclub. Off towards the right, there was a massive rectangular dance floor. The floor had blocks of see through material, almost like glass, and multiple colorful lights streamed underneath on to the customers.

“To help you let loose!” Louis answered, glancing out at the dance floor. Customers were unconcernedly grinding their bodies into each other. A handful of people were actually pulling off dance moves.

“And why? Aren’t I suppose to be learning lessons?!” Freya harped; silently praying Louis would get the hint. She didn’t belong here. And she can’t be here. If Paula figured out she was here, during a work night, this will be the end of Freya’s occupation.

“Yes, but you need to relax. The reason why you haven’t accomplish the first rule is because you are so uptight.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“God bless you,” he replied, taking a sip from his drink.

Her eyes gazed at Louis. He was unfazed by his remark. Louis was observing out at the world, almost like she was nonexistent.

“I am not uptight,” she said, taking a sip of her nonalcoholic beverage.

“Want to bet?” he challenged. His eyes fixated on Freya, no longer observing the dance floor.

“Why?” she replied. It was her best comeback.

“Damn. You ask why too much.” Louis dunked the remains of his drink and held his hand up for another.

“So?”

“Really,” he smirked, “Another word meaning why.”

The bartender whipped up another alcoholic beverage, sliding over towards Louis. He caught it in his right hand, nodded his head towards the bartender. “Thanks.”

Louis swerved in his seat, facing away the dance floor and towards the bar.

“Look,” Freya indicated, “The thing is Louis I can’t be here. It’s Monday and tomorrow is a workday. If Paula found out about this-”

“She never will.”

Louis cutting Freya off surprised her nonetheless.

“And what makes you so sure, she will never find out?” she addressed.

“You never do this kind of thing, right? So, she wouldn’t think about it even if she suspects a thing.”

Good point.

“And I’m sure, Ian-”

“Isaac,” she fixed his mistake.

“Ivan would stick up for you, if you’ve been his assistant for a year now. He probably doesn’t want you to get laid off.”

Yeah, I’m only an employee in his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you are right-”

“So, why don’t you get a drink and relax a bit? Let loose, live a little!”

Isn’t what he doing called peer pressure?

Louis leaned over, his warm breath hitting her rosy cheeks. Her fingers tighten even more; personal space wasn’t in Louis’ vocabulary either. Freya was staring at his face, waiting for his purpose of breaking her box. The smell of oranges and liquor reached her nose.

“Come on, Freya,” he cooed, “You’ve been working all your life. Why not take one moment - one bloody moment - and enjoy yourself.”

When he says it like that. It sounded nice. Pleasing.

“But-”

He held his finger over Freya’s coral pink lips, “Nope, no buts. You are going to have a drink.”

“Sir!” he yelled over the music. The bartender walked over and answered, “Yes.”

Louis glanced at Freya. “She would like a-”

“L-Little Blass Dress, please,” she cut him off. Freya was worrying Louis would order her a vodka drink. She preferred wine, and she never tried Little Black Dress before. Freya saw the name of the drink on the menu while Louis got the bartender’s attention.

“Alrighty, coming right up,” the bartender grinned and headed off to create the drink.

Louis was chuckling to himself about something.

“What?” Freya asked. No response came out of him.

Her rosy cheeks were flustered and now ruby red. “What are you laughing about?” she asked, once more. The feeling of insecure flushed through her veins.

“Oh, nothing love,” he replied. A glitter of amusement twinkled in his ocean blue eyes.

“Here you go, ma’am,” the bartender said, handing her the drink. There were no umbrellas or fancy decoration. Just plain and simple. What Freya likes the most.

“Thank you.”

She held the glass in her right hand, gazing at Louis.

His smile disappeared from his lips. A smirk took over.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he answered, “Just I pulled rule one on you.”

Taking a sip in, the alcohol was burning down her throat. But it wasn’t the only thing burning. Her heart.

“You tricked me!” she hissed, placing the glass down on the counter.

“If you would like to say tricked then yes. I did trick you,” he declared.

Mixed emotions fought her heart, she left her drink on the counter. Louis took another sip on his beverage.

“Why?”

“Again with the why thing,” he said, “Freya, you need to loosen up. You have been trying to be perfect at something you are obviously not comfortable with. You need to be less tense, worried, and stressed out. You are out of your comfort zone. It will feel weird, but you have to let go.”

His words shattered her mind. She didn’t know if she was talking about now, or the past between them. He knows of her past life. Why she flew over the Atlantic Ocean far away from Doncaster … or maybe not. She gulped down her salvia.

Freya took the Little Black Dress in her hand. “Here’s to loosening up a bit,” she mumbled, taking a long swig of her drink.

Louis watched her do the action. He knew this meant more than just a drink. This was one step closer to letting go. Freya has grown up, and yet she has not changed since they last met. He hoped she was alright.

“The drink isn’t that bad,” she proclaimed, running her fingertips over the shiny glass.

“You want another?”

The bartender asked.

“Maybe another one in a little bit,” she answered. He nodded his head and went on his way.

She leaned her back against the seat, taking a deep breath in. She could still feel the burning in her throat. Freya knew it would only last a minute or so. No big deal.

“I will be right back. I’m going to the little girl’s room,” Freya stated, as she headed off in the corner where the restroom sign was hanging.

“Okay.” She was walking there at her own pace. Louis was watching her every move. He didn’t want her to make a run for it like last time. But, once she pushed the door open to the girl’s room he let his breath out.

Louis, being Louis, didn’t know exactly what to do now. He pulled out his iPhone noticing he had two new text messages. He opened the first one.

From: Eleanor <3

Message: Hey, honey! I miss you! I hope you are alright. You didn’t really text me back to see if you made it okay. I doubt anything bad happened but I wanted to tell you I miss you and I love you. :) <3

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath. He forgot to message her after he landed in New York from his jet. Quickly, he answered back.

To: Eleanor <3

Message: Hello, love! I’m so sorry I didn’t text you when I landed! Please forgive me! Yes I am all good. Nothing is broken or harmed. ;) And I miss you, my love. I love you too! :)

When his iPhone had sent that message. Louis knew that Eleanor was probably fast asleep, it was probably around four o’clock in the morning in England. He wouldn’t be hearing back from her until a couple of hours later. He clicked back into his iMessage and noticed he received a text message from Harry.

From: Harold “Hazza” Harry

Message: Hey, Lou! How’s it in the Big Apple?! I heard the weather was nice. The lads and I were wondering when you would be back. We need you here for promoting our upcoming tour. We know you are helping out with a lifelong friend at the moment. So we understand if you don’t come back quickly. But we wanted to let you know that Simon wants to push for the press meeting as soon as possible. But my personal opinion take your time Lou. We are in no rush. P.S. Is it ok if we come over and visit your friend? I miss New York so much and so do the lads. If not that’s ok. :)

“Who are you texting?”

Louis glanced up from his iPhone, meeting Freya’s gaze.

“Oh,” he said, “It’s Harry. He is one of my band mates. He and the lads were curious about how I’m doing.”

“That’s very kind of them.”

“Yes, it is.”

Louis glanced down at his iPhone again.

“So, did you have any plans on letting lose?” Freya questioned, her arms were across her chest.

“Yes,” Louis smirked, “Let’s go dancing.”

“Come again?”

Louis replied to Harry as fast as he could before placing his iPhone back into his pocket.

“Let’s go dancing. I’ve heard it’s a marvelous way of letting lose and great exercise.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” Freya said, mostly to herself.

“Nope, not at all. I thought you would have known dancing is good exercise.”

“But Louis,” Freya stated, “I can’t dance.”

“Neither can I. Doesn’t stop me from dancing a bit,” he countered.

“Louis-”

“Let’s go,” he declared, taking her hand into his. He led her towards the dance floor with more people than before. Freya could barely breath, no space in this area. Louis placed his hands on her shoulders, “It’s okay. Just dance.”

His left hand touched her waist, and then his right hand was holding her hand. Not breaking his eye contact, he began to sway in place. Nothing crazy or anything like his daily dance routines a tour. He held her in place. Louis could feel the tense in her shoulder evaporate as she swayed along side him. Occasionally, she would smile at him letting him now she was doing okay. She was fine in his arms.

Meanwhile, inside Louis’ pockets, Harry had replied back to him.

From: Harold “Hazza” Harry

Message: That’s great! Hope you are having a good time. And awesome! I will tell the lads about it. They will be thrilled to hear the news!

Notes