Decisions Ch. 04

When I found out that Jazz and Ricky were going to be there watching, since Ricky was already sleeping over, I began to get cold feet. They were going to laugh at me, I just knew it. I probably should've winged it, but if the Coven Royal Family was going to be there, I didn't want to make a complete buffoon of myself. Who knows? Maybe they were the kind of Royal Family to drag you away to the dungeons never to be seen again.

When the two ladies came over, against my better judgement I told everybody all about the invitation to the ball. They all seemed excited about the prospect of taking Stasi to our own private prom, but when I carefully admitted to the three of them that I had zero knowledge in how to dance and needed them to teach me, Ricky and Jazz laughed like maniacs. Just like I predicted. All Lucy did was give them an exasperated look.

"Of course i'll teach you how to dance, Chris." She said. "It's the least I could do for that help you've given me all these years." She stood up off her stool, brushing down her shirt.

"Thank you." I said. "See? That's what a real friend does. You two are just freeloaders." I glared at Jazz and Ricky, who were still giggling and chuckling. Jazz lifted the end of the tail she was sitting on, dexterously waving it into the air.

"I don't think you'd want me to teach you how to dance, man." She joked. "I'd probably just end up tripping you on accident. But, I can do the worm pretty good though! So if you want to learn that, i'm always here. He has no excuse." She pointed at Ricky.

"Yes I do." He scoffed. "You're just too graceful for me, Chris. You know, like when you run, it's like watching a majestic gazelle on the serengeti. I can't even compare to that, amigo."

"Ignore them, Chris." Lucy said, although she was sporting a smile. "They're just jealous that you're getting me as a teacher." She stood up to my height, coming up to 6'3'' with the help of her eight legs. Her full height was 6'6'' when her legs were fully extended, but she preferred to always keep them bent, staying at a nice 5'10''. I used to be the shortest among our group before I hit my growth spurt in the eighth grade.

She skittered over to me, because how else would you call it? I resisted the urge to back away from her advancing. I grew up with severe arachnophobia, which was kind of ironic considering that Lucy was one of my best friends. A small spider crossing the floor could send me running for the hills.

"Alright, here's your first problem. You're a bit stiff. You need to relax. It's dancing, not a job interview. Here, take my hand." She held out her hand and I gaped at it. Wasn't she going to teach me how to swim before throwing me into the pool?

"He doesn't even know what to do." Ricky said, making him and Jazz laugh.

I scowled, not one to back down. I lifted up my hand, hesitantly taking hold of her soft one. She intertwined her fingers with mine.

"Other on my waist, Chris." She said, patiently.

"What?"

Sighing, she reached down and grabbed my other hand, which was lying uselessly at my side, and placed it on her waist. She giggled when I blushed at the contact. "Quite possibly the most mature guy in the group and you get red when you touch someone. Honestly, you need to relax, Chris. Don't be so stiff. Dancing is fun, but it's like water. You need to be fluid."

"Yeah, but don't forget to be graceful, like a giraffe." Jazz quipped.

"It's supposed to be a gazelle." Ricky noted.

"Isn't that what I said?"

"Quiet, you two." Lucy said, mainly eyeing Jazz. Jazz raised her hands, before resting back on the seat she made with her tail. Lucy turned back to me. "Ignore them. That's probably how it's going to be at the ball; a bunch of naysayers ogling you. Just put all your attention on me. Imagine i'm Anna and copy me." She slowly started moving on the spot, left to right. "Now follow me... that's right. Good! Hey, watch it, don't hit my feet!" She shrieked, my foot stepping where hers was a split second ago.

"Sorry, you have like eight feet." I said sheepishly.

"Yeah, but six are in the back, dingus." Ricky called out from behind his cellphone camera.

"Quiet!" Me and Lucy scolded him. Ricky raised his hands, leaning back on the wall from his spot on the floor, continuing to record. I would've given him a chair, but I didn't want him to destroy any of my furniture.

Lucy turned back to me, taking a deep breath and tucking her silver hair behind her ears again. When Stasi told her that long hair would look good on her, she started to grow it out, rather than keeping it short. Stasi was right, it did look good on her.

"Alright, now... let's try again. I'll guide you. Don't look down, just stare at my face." She encouraged. I took hold of her hand and placed another on her waist, slowly swaying with her to imaginary music. It was actually pretty simple. Although I had a few steps and twirls that had me dodging her massive carapace, I found dancing was pretty easy. I actually quite liked it. Jazz was soon playing a couple of soft songs on her phone that she knew Stasi liked. It was about thirty minutes in and we were already getting into it.

"Chris, what are you doing?" My mom asked, poking her head into the loft from downstairs, making me jump and let go of Lucy as if burned. I turned to face her, my face red and heart thudding in my chest. It didn't help that Ricky and Jazz were stifling laughter. I swear, sometimes those two were thicker than thieves.

"Nothing. What are you doing?" I shot back, willing the color in my face to go back to normal.

"Me and dad were wondering if you were ready to go shopping. Were you dancing?" She inquired, with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Yeah, I was practicing. It's a life skill." I said defensively.

"Oh really? You were dancing?" She remarked innocently. "It just looked like you were playing hopscotch with Lucy's feet."

Jazz and Ricky howled with laughter, unable to hold it in anymore. "Mooooooom." I moaned.

"I'm kidding, sheesh! It looked nice." My mom said, sincerely. "Thank you for teaching him how to dance, Lucy. I was wondering when he'd take the time to learn how."

"It's not a problem, Mrs. Williams." Lucy said politely. "Always happy to help a friend."

"That's great." My mom replied brightly. "We have to go shop for clothes in about 10 minutes, so if you guys could wrap it up with a grand finale, i'd really appreciate it. Chris, we'll meet you downstairs. Have fun, kiddos." Her head disappeared behind the stairwell, no doubt to go tell my dad what she just saw.

"Chris, I freaking love your mom." Jazz said, holding onto her ribs. "Hopscotch with Lucy's feet. What a line."

"Hey! Chris was doing perfectly fine. He had that thing going on with his hips." Ricky said, draining his jug of water. Being a giant, he needed to take in that much more food than a regular human. What was normally a large glass of water to me, was a huge jug for him. He was also a stickler for staying hydrated, so go figure. He stood up, holding out his hand for the lounging Jazz.

Jazz placed her slender hand in his, letting herself get pulled up to her feet? Tail? Who knows. She got her balance, before slithering over to me. "On a serious note though, you did great, Chris. Anna won't know what hit her." She smiled.

"Gee, thanks Jazz. That would've had more meaning behind it had you not spent the last hour heckling me." I said sarcastically.

"It's true though, Chris. You're a fast learner and you're going to knock Anna's socks off." Lucy said from behind me, patting me on the shoulder. She skittered past me, taking a wide berth to avoid stepping on me with one of eight legs. "Ricky, can you drop me off? I don't want my mom to come all the way here."

"Sure. All aboard the Ortega-Mobile."

As I gave everyone their good bye hugs and escorted them to the door, I sought to remind them. "Remember what I said to you guys; nobody can tell Stasi any of this. If she asks, just say that you had to stop by to help me with a project or something."

"You got it, amigo." Ricky saluted. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Ricky, you're the one that Chris should be worried about the most." Jazz snickered.

"Hey, I can keep a secret!" He argued.

I opened the front door for them. "Yes, you can. Just like how you kept the secret that I was insecure how Stasi was taller than me in middle school."

"That... ok, you got me there. But I can keep a secret!"

"Please do." I said, waving goodbye as they all stepped out of my house. Well Ricky stepped out. Lucy skittered out. Jazz slithered. You get the picture. "I'll text you all pictures of the tuxedo we pick out later!"

"Adios, Chris."

"Bye, Chris!"

"See ya, Chris!"

I closed the door, locking it. I walked into the kitchen, where my mom and dad were waiting. They were both smiling gently at me, as if I was the topic of an inside joke.

"Well, are we ready to go?"

My mom's smile grew wider. "I don't know, Chris. Are we ready to go, Robert?"

"Certainly." My dad said. "I do feel a bit ill, though. Hopefully, it's not that boogie fever that my son seems to have gotten." He glided past me, dancing extravagantly as he walked to the garage.

"Dad, really?" I muttered, following him.

"Oh, he's just teasing." My mom said gently. "Besides, you should feel honored. You're the first human in the city to ever be invited to the Coven Ball and you'll get to meet the Royal Family too. Yulia told me that they're dying to meet you." My mom wrapped her arm around me as we walked outside together to the car. "We're both very proud of you for standing up for what was right. You grew up while we weren't watching."

"Yes, you did, son." My dad chimed in, climbing into the driver's seat of the BMW X5, the family car. "We're proud of you. Extremely proud."

He pulled out of the garage and began the quick drive to the Pacific Mall. We were already pretty early, being sticklers for time, but it was hard to find parking. The Mall was always that much crowded in the afternoon on a beautiful Saturday, being the only real public plaza that was relatively safe and 'normal' for monsters. Interestingly enough, as we drove into the parking garage, my eyes trailed to an elderly woman on the corner. She was holding up a sign that said: "I support the DTOSA."

We parked our car and walked into the open-air portion of the Mall, where Kirby's Clothiers was supposedly located. According to the directory we examined, the tailor was on the opposite end of the mall. Walking at a brisk pace, we finally came upon a waiting Elena, who was posted outside of the tailor to keep an eye out for my family.

"Hi Chris!" She chirped excitedly. "Fancy seeing you here!"

"Hi Elena." I replied. "You have something on your nose." I motioned towards my nose, indicating that sunscreen was still splotched on her nose.

"Ugh... I know. It's this new sunscreen. It won't blend in. I think I applied too much, as always." Elena groaned, furiously rubbing at her nose with one hand. With her other, she gestured to the store. "Come on, my parents are waiting inside. Hi Robert! Hi Susan!" She waved at my parents.

"Hello, Elena." My mom said.

"Hey there, sport." My dad chuckled.

Elena guided me inside. A bell rang above us as stepped inside the shop. It was tiny, but modern looking, with shiny white and black tile floors and bright lights Trays full of material were on display. There were two changing rooms in the back, but was devoid of real furniture other than a desk and two plush couches that my parents sat on to wait. Numerous outfitted mannequins stood in the window and in places around the store. I felt as though I walked onto some kind of bizarre fashion show.

"Mom, dad. Chris is here!" Elena announced to her parents, who were talking with a man at the desk. Anton and Yulia turned around, waving at me as the man stood up. "Good afternoon. So this is the young man who is exciting the entire monster community, yes?" He asked, moving around the glass desk. The man was old, squat, and dressed in cashmere.

Anton walked over behind me, clapping me on the back. "Yes, this is him." He boomed. His loud, Russian-accented voice echoing in the tailor. "Like I said, something classic but with a young and... what's the word, Robert?" He asked, turning to my dad.

"Hip?" My dad guessed, making me, Elena, and both of our moms groan. As you can tell, my dad's vocabulary wasn't that hip.

"Yes, that word! Hip! Classic with a twist. Young and hip. But, of course, to Christopher's preferences. So, Kirby, can you do it?"

"Of course, Anton. It is my pleasure. Let's see... young and modern with a classic appeal. Apologies, 'hip'." Kirby examined me with a critical eye, pacing around me and staring at me from every angle. "Tall... good build." He mused. "Good posture... tell me, Christopher. Liberal or conservative?"

"I... uh...What does my political orientation have to do with picking out a suit?" I asked dumbly. In truth, I was a bit of both. Both sides had their negatives and their positives. I was in the middle, I guess.

"He means how do you dress?" Yulia informed helpfully.

"Uh..."

"Light or dark colors?" Elena giggled.

"Oh... conservative. I guess." I said, unsure. "I just don't want to look like an optical migraine."

My parents laughed, but all Kirby did was smile softly. "Not to worry, Christopher. You'll look very fashionable yet. So... conservative, not too quirky." He stepped back to eye me critically one last time. I stiffly stood, as if I was a soldier at attention. "Good height, athletic build..." He repeated. "You have a military look and disciplined look about you... I say, Mr. Williams, what are your opinions on a double breasted British tuxedo?"

"What's a British tuxedo?" I asked. There were different kinds of tuxedos?

"Not you, Christopher." Kirby said. He gestured to my dad. "I was asking him."

After mulling over the fact for a few seconds, my dad made up his mind. "I think a British tuxedo would be good for Chris. He certainly has the build for it."

Kirby nodded. "Thought so." Reaching into his cashmere sweater pocket, he withdrew a tape measure. He measured me from around the armpits, then around the neck, shoulder to shoulder, wrist to shoulder, around the waist, and waist to floor. As he jotted his measurements down, he said, "The Coven Ball is a very special occasion. We will have you and Ms. Sokolov outshining everybody. I worked on her dress and I must say, it looks great on her."

"What does it look like?" I asked interested. "Can I see?"

"Chris, you can't just ask that." Elena retorted. "Don't you know that's bad luck?"

"I thought that was only for weddings."

"Silly boy," Kirby chortled. "It's bad luck for all occassions, or none at all. It is up to the person to decide whether or not it's bad luck. Unfortunately for you, it's bad luck to me." He pulled out a drawer full of materials, whether it be solid, pinstripe, or polka dot. He held up a khaki cotton to the light, as if inspecting it. He held it up to me, before throwing it over his shoulder.

"No. No. No. Most definitely not." He said, each 'No' being punctuated with Kirby throwing a square of material over his shoulder towards a pile. My eyes trailed to the growing pile of material that was becoming a black spot on the modern and sterile look of the boutique. I looked back to Elena, who shrugged at me. "It's what he does." Elena said.

"It is certainly what I do." Kirby said, happily. "We will make the perfect... suit." His voice trailed off, as he picked up a solid midnight black material. "Wool and Mohair blend.." He contemplated. He looked at me, holding it up to me. "I wonder... yes, this will certainly do." He said, smiling at Anton. "We have our suit. Will you like the suit delivered or picked up?"

"Delivered please. Fairmont Hotel. I will give you his room number sometime this week after our reservation is confirmed.."

"Very well. The suit will be ready in two weeks, just in time for Halloween."

Anton clapped his hands, reaching for his wallet, beating my dad. He was paying for the suit after all. "How much then, Kirby?" I winced when Anton asked for the price. I looked up the name of the tailor during my free time and although their wares were of an impeccable quality, they were custom made to fit the wearer, and therefore expensive.

Kirby waved off Anton. "Nothing, Anton. I make my money off of repeat business and you have gone to me for years. I am honored to have Christopher as a patron and hope that he accepts this small token of appreciation for what he has done. Now, if you'll excuse me, I still have Elena's dress to finish and Chris's suit to begin." He bowed us out of his shop.

I was the last to leave, turning around to face him. "Thank you. I really appreciate what you've done for me, sir." I said gratefully.

Kirby grinned, his large fangs revealing themselves. "Kirby, please. It is no problem, Christopher. Any time you are looking for any type of clothing, you are always free to come back to my establishment. It is the clientele like you who keep this business running! Have a good day now." He opened the door for me, having me exit outside. As I was leaving, he flipped the 'Open' sign to 'Closed'.

As we were walking back to the parking garage, Anton gave me a good ribbing. "In all my years of dealing with that peculiar man, he has never given me even a free bow tie. You are one lucky individual, Christopher."

Elena nodded her head. "Yeah, you are! All our outfits cost a small fortune, and you get yours for free. But they're super good quality. Anyways, mom, how's the room situation looking at the hotel?"

"I think everyone's going to share a room. I'm not sure. The invitation we had was extremely unspecific. We'll just have to check when we get there."

We split off from each other, Elena's family going to go to their car in the outdoor parking lot, and us going to the parking garage. As I walked back to the garage with my parents, laughing, talking, and joking, my eyes trailed once more to the corner where the old lady was standing earlier. She was still there and holding onto her sign.

To each their own, I guess.

Chapter 4:

I cautiously steered my car around the fountain, narrowly avoiding running over pedestrians by meer inches. I stopped the car, putting in my parking brake. Though I had driven here before, this was the first time I ever got an up close look. The splendid, historical vibe the hotel gave off only seemed to magnify up close. Tall roman columns stood guard along the entrance. On either side of the driveway, trimmed bushes lay, dotted with different flowers. Light shone through the windows to the lobby, where a grand chandelier was hanging. The only decorations that took away from the elegant vibe, were the Jack O' Lanterns placed on the fountain, signifying that it was Halloween.

Yep, Halloween, my favorite holiday. The day of the year where the regular season for football was over and hockey season began.

A elderly man in a sharp suit and peaked cap came over quickly to open my door. Despite his intimidating stature, he was smiling as he opened my door. I self-consciously smoothed down jacket. "Welcome to the Fairmont Hotel. Guest?" He asked.

"Oh.. uh... no. Well, yes. I'm staying for the night." I stammered.

"Not to worry." He said smoothly. "James?" He turned, signalling to the bellhop, a young man, not much older than I was, who was wearing a traditional red uniform.

"Do you have a reservation, sir?" The man said, suddenly eyeing my clothing and car. I realized how I must've looked, compared to the usual guests of the hotel. My beat up BMW stuck out like a sore thumb against the sleek Porsches, Rolls-Royces, and Chryslers. "Yes, I... well... i'm not sure. I have a letter." I reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out the pristine silver envelope. Even though football taught me how to stay calmed and poised in the face of pressure, this guy's stare was rattling me.