Call me Kitten

“Jack, come on, you need to eat. You can’t sit here all fucking day without any food.”

Chris leaned over my cubicle making impatient faces. Seemed like he never learned. I don’t like to be called Jack. My name isn’t Jack, it’s James. At least according to my mother. To my sister I’m Jamie or Jay. Never Jack. But that never stuck in Chris’s thick head no matter how many times I reminded him. No point to even keep trying. I didn’t like to be bothered when I worked, but that fact was ignored by Chris too. The problem was that he wouldn’t stop until I did as he wanted and joined him in the cafeteria for lunch. I locked my computer and got off my chair. My back protested wildly from being hunched in front of the screen for hours, but I was used to it. I just stretched my arms to the ceiling and followed Chris.

My cubicle was situated in the far corner of the office, next to the copy machine room and the corridor with the bathrooms, leaving me blissfully without any neighbors that could potentially disturb me. Except Chris nobody had even tried to stop at my desk and start a conversation and that was just like I wanted it. I had never been one to small talk. I have no idea how to. Who cares about the weather or the football game the previous night? I was here to work, and I wanted to do it in peace and quiet, that was it. Chris hadn’t given up on me yet though, he was always on about getting coffee, lunch or going out for a beer after work. The latter I had agreed to. Once. Two hours of me feeling misplaced and finally giving up by saying that I had a laundry appointment.

Now he was walking a couple of steps in front of me, going on about what food was being served today. I didn’t pay attention at all. Food was served, that was all I needed to know. It was handy having a cafeteria in the same building, it was even a part of the same company I was working for, so I ate there morning, noon, and night. More or less. They had something for every meal, and it was deducted from the paycheck, making it almost feel like it was for free. It was convenient for me, that way I didn’t have to worry about food when I got home.

When we sat down with our plates I mentally disconnected from Chris and looked out over the room. This was as much social interaction I needed. Just looking at people was enough for me. And that was something I liked to do. The distance made me feel safe.

“Wow, have they actually hired that guy?” I heard Chris say and I looked in the same direction as him. “Must be some form of charity case.”

My gaze landed on a guy walking among the tables with a cart, gathering up trays and trash. At first, I just noticed him from behind as he navigated his way between tables and chairs, but then he turned and was going in our direction. Now I could understand Chris’s reaction and his usual judgmental remarks. The guy had his hair dyed black in a messy hairdo, a black t-shirt that didn’t hide his various tattoos, and worn black jeans. When he got closer, I noticed that he had numerous piercings and a hint of black eyeliner. His eyes were almost a glowing sapphire blue. When he walked past us, he looked at me and gave me a crooked smile. Immediately I lowered my gaze.

I had been gawking, no denying that. Embarrassing but true. But no-one could deny that he was a rare breed here, in a sea of suits. Granted, I didn’t have a suit, but I always made sure to cover my own tattoos with long sleeved hoodies. He had been flaunting his, like it was the most normal thing to do. I couldn’t help getting a bit envious of his confidence. Not that I actually wanted to show off my ink but sitting in a hoodie in the summer was sometimes unbearable.

I ignored Chris’s comment about the guy and started eating again, but something in me couldn’t let go of how the guy had looked. He didn’t look like a charity case, something in his posture didn’t match that. He looked too confident to be a person that needed that form of help. He had even smiled at me. Not that service smile, the mindless thing you could see everywhere. It had been a different form of smile and I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Why would he smile at me at all?

When I had finished my plate, I scanned the room again. Chris had a phone call, leaving me alone at the table. Carefully I glanced at the kitchen to see if I could see that guy in there, but I could just make out the ordinary dishwashers.

“Looking for me?” someone said behind me, making me jump in surprise.

The guy was suddenly at my table with his cart. He gave me that same crooked smile and swiftly gathered Chris tray and loaded it onto the cart. Then he looked down at me. Now I could count the number of piercings he had. Two on either side of his lower lip, one at the base of his nose and one in each eyebrow. Weirdly symmetrical.

“You wanna hang on to that glass or do you want me to take it?” he said.

Damn. I was staring again, not even realizing that he tried to buss my tray. I had been sitting there holding on to my glass without even noticing it. Quickly I let go of the glass and smiled apologetically.

“Sorry, was all in my head, you can take it,” I said.

He took the glass but didn’t move on. Instead, he remained beside me. I got up, trying to leave before I made myself even more embarrassing, but before I could walk away, he held out his hand.

“My name is Ash,” he greeted.

“Jamie,” I said, thanking the lord that I didn’t introduce myself as Jack and took his hand.

His handshake was firm and cool, somehow his hand felt bigger than mine. And he was taller than me, something I hadn’t noticed before. Five inches at least.

“Well, guess we’ll see each other again,” Ash smiled and the sapphire in his eyes glinted.

He let go of my hand, but in that motion his finger glided along the palm of my hand, all the way to the tip of my fingers. A shiver ran up my spine. What was he doing? But he was already on his way to the kitchen with his cart, like nothing happened. I was rooted to the floor trying to figure out what just occurred. Had it been deliberate or a coincidence? I landed on coincidence. People had all sorts of ways to shake hands. Some had the limp fish, and some squeezed the living hell out of you. Ash was just someone who involved his fingers. Nothing more. And if it really was deliberate, I just had to say I didn’t swing that way.

The afternoon went in a blissful haze of hard work. Chris didn’t make a dent in my flow at all, and I was in my rhythm again and managed to complete more than I had planned for the day. Ash had not even been a blip on my radar and why would he be? Whatever that handshake had meant to him, it didn’t mean anything to me. I wasn’t here to make friends. He wasn’t in the cafeteria when I grabbed my evening sandwich. Not that I cared.

I yawned and stretched out in my chair, glancing at the time. Almost seven o’clock at night. I should have known, the office was quiet and I was the last one here again, like most evenings. It wasn’t for the extra pay that I worked past my hours; I just didn’t want to waste a flow when I got one. It was better to work overtime in a flow and clock out earlier those day when my brain was in a sludge state. I just had some forms to copy now and after that I was done with my part of the current project. I smiled and rewarded myself with booming out my music through the speakers, instead of my earbuds. The office was empty anyway so I might as well take advantage of that and feel the heavy bass fill my cubicle. The rhythmic tones followed my out in the copy machine room and I swirled around as I felt for the light switch on the wall. And then I bumped into something. Someone.

I fumbled for the switch but in my startled state I just felt the wall and nothing else. Who the hell was here this late? And why hadn’t I noticed?

“Who is it?” I said and continued feeling my way up the wall.

“The boogey man,” said a voice, a little coarse and melodic.

I knew that voice. The lid of the copy machine lifted, and a dim blue light filled the room. Ash stood there grinning; three coffee cups stapled on top of each other in his hand. What was he doing here this late? The blue light from the copy machine made his features more prominent, those high cheek bones and the soft line of his jaw. I swallowed and finally I found the light switch.

“Damn, you startled me,” I said and approached the copier. “What are you doing here, the cafeteria is closed, isn’t it?”

Ash placed the cups on the small table next to the copier.

“To you, yes. But the slaves must clean up after you guys. You think all those coffee cups you take with you to your desk just walk themselves down again? Someone has to collect them. And that someone is me, as of today.”

That had never crossed my mind. I had never even reflected of the fact that all those cups I took to my cubicle everyday somehow had vanished the next morning. But I had never seen anybody collect them. Obviously, someone did. I put my forms in the copier and closed the lid.

“Sorry, didn’t think about that,” I mumbled and pressed the button for copy.

A warm stream of air tickled my neck.

“You say sorry a whole lot, are you aware of that?” Ash said in my ear.

I froze again. The copier hummed. My music was blaring out in the office, but I barely noticed it anymore. He was way too close to me now. He didn’t touch me at all, but just the fact that I felt his breath on my neck was proof that he was standing just inches behind me. Cold shivers should have been my normal reaction, but it wasn’t. Instead, I became acutely aware of his whole being, how close he was to me, how little I had to move to feel his chest against my back. The hairs on my neck stood on end and my breath hitched.

“Sorr–,” I started but bit my tongue. “Gonna bring my cup back down again next time.”

The copier stopped its whirring, and I hurriedly gathered the papers and turned around. Ash put one hand on the copier and effectively closed off one of my ways of escape. He looked down at me, an amused look on his face and cocked his head a little.

“Why?” he smiled. “I’d gladly clean up after you, Jamie.”

And with that he stretched and picked up the cups again and exited the room.

“Then I get to hear your music, too,” I heard him say and then he was gone.

I just stood there, clutching my papers in my hand. They had become all crumpled but right now I didn’t care about that at all. The only thing in my head right now was the feeling of him that close to me. Why did I react this way, he hadn’t done anything? He never touched me, didn’t say anything weird really, he had just been there. Right behind me. Breathing down my neck. This was something I had never experienced before. The sensation of it was still lingering in my skin and I couldn’t shake it.