Who Needs A Personal Trainer?

[portia]

Both of Portia's parents insisted on keeping trim, but it was her mom that was crazy about fitness. She was practically anorexic and drank mostly - juice, water, alcohol. What little food she ate was low in calories, and while others considered pretzels or peanuts snacks, she saw a small bunch of grapes as a full blown dessert.

In her diet frenzy, she'd hired a personal trainer for the whole family and there was a strict schedule they stuck to - Mom had two hours each day, dad had one and a half on odd days, and two hours on even days was Portia's regimen.

However, she felt the urge to run when she awoke suddenly at five in the morning, an hour before she actually got up. So, despite the fact that it was an odd day, and she usually avoided unneeded exercise on her days off, Portia found herself tugging on a pair of tennis shoes, a tank top, and some shorts to go out for a jog.

It was dark, cold, and wet, but after a few minutes it didn't matter. Her mind wandered and she found herself running all over the neighborhood, passing each cookie-cutter house in a daze. She wasn't very good at running, but until she got out this extra energy, she wouldn't be able to concentrate.

Eventually, she found herself in a neighborhood unfamiliar to her own, but it didn't really matter. As long as she upheld her tardy-less school record, it was fine.


[yes, that is the correct spelling of regimen, if you're like me and think that looks completely ridiculous.]

[remy]

[Regimen, huh? That does look weird.]

Rémy was an anomoly in the adolescent world. While most students got up only minutes before they had to leave, Rémy got up about 2 1/2 hours before she really had to. At 4:30 AM. She was, needless to say, a morning person, and she felt that if she didn't have some prep time before school, she'd be falling asleep in every class, and the teachers at George Washington didn't really look kindly on things like that. That, and getting up so early had become a ritual of sorts for her. There was a process:

-get up
-go to the bathroom
-turn on the news
-eat some breakfast
-brush the teeth
-go outside with the dog
-get dressed for school
-finish any last minute homework
-listen to some music
-do the hair
-leave for school

Rémy was currently on step number 6, go outside with the dog. The dog thing was actually a new addition to the morning routine. It was a puppy, just 6 months old, a Rottweiler, and it was probably the cutest thing in the world. That's what Rémy thought, until she was outside at about quarter after five and she saw a girl run past her house. Rémy looked up when she heard the running steps of the girl on the sidewalk, and while she was distracted the dog sprang on the chance to get away. The small puppy shot off, running towards the girl. Rémy cringed, hoping the girl wouldn't be afraid, but how could she? The tiny barking dog didn't seem like much of a threat. Rémy started running after the dog, still in her pajamas, without shoes. And then she began thinking that maybe getting a new puppy had been a bad idea.

[Sorry, it's a bit rushed: school's over!]

[portia]

Portia had been staring absently at a vandalized stop sign when she suddenly heard the high-pitched bark of a small dog. Glancing over her shoulder as she dropped speed, she spotted a small Rottweiler at her heels, jumping at her calves excitedly. However, another figure caught her eye shortly after that and she found herself stopping all together.

Breathing a bit heavily, she began to wipe off any sweat that'd accumulated on her tomato red face with her tank top. In the process, she realized that she was extremely close to flashing the girl and lowered her shirt quickly, settling to rub her face with her forearm. Veeery attractive.

While the puppy pawed happily at her legs, Portia pat its head and finally got a good look at its owner. And wow, did she look good.

"He's really cute; how old is he?" she blurted, feeling like small talk was appropriate in this situation. At least focusing on the dog would keep her from blushing much more, which seemed unlikely in the state her face was currently in.

It wasn't like the girl was going to be interested anyway, so why get so worked up over her appearance? Lesbians didn't go running around every day, after all. Well, at least not to Portia's knowledge.

But still...

[remy]

Rémy let out a sigh of relief when the girl didn't go screaming in the other direction. Some people were weird like that. But when the girl stopped and began wiping the presperation from her face, Rémy slowed down and took a moment to watch. Had she just-- no, better not to think of it. That would just lead to embarrassing things. Rémy eventually caught up with the girl and dog. She took a moment to catch her breath; she hardly ever ran like that, except for in gym class where she hardly excelled. And she was barefoot. And she only just noticed the pain that pounding on the sidewalk had caused. But she could probably ignore that to talk to the girl.

Rémy was actually taken aback when the girl started up a conversation right away; most people avoided conversation with strangers at all cost. Not that Rémy was disappointed or anything. "Uhm," Rémy muttered, looking anywhere but at the girl's... everything. "He's 6 months old." She bent at the knees and squatted next to Excalibur [not my idea: Marisa's] grabbing onto his collar and attempting to calm him down. "Sorry about that," she said, attaching a leash to Excalibur's collar. "He's a bit energetic, you know how puppies are..." She trailed off, peering at the girl and clearing her throat. Despite the fact that she was as red as a lobster in the face, she was quite pretty. Rémy especially liked her hair... but she tried her hardest not to stare. "Ah..." she said, shifting her weight to the other foot. "Do you go running... every morning? I mean... I haven't seen you before." Jesus Christ Rémy thought to herself. You're usually so good at the pleasantries.

[portia]

"Oh, no, this is the first time. I don't really have enough resolve to get up this early every day, but power to you." Portia replied,

She was glad that the girl had said something pertaining to her rather than the dog. She wasn't a huge dog-person and probably would've gotten jealous if Rémy had rambled on about the dog until they parted ways. Not that she was hoping they would.

"I actually live in a neighborhood over there... so I mean, if you live here, it's not surprising that we haven't met." she added, subtly trying to find out where she came from. A hint of flirtyness also accompanied her statement, surprising Portia as if she hadn't said it. Hopefully Rémy wouldn't notice the slip; how awkward would that be? Well, if she was straight. Which she was. Probably.

[remy]

Rémy gave her a sideways smile. "It's not resolve that gets me up in the morning. It's habit. But thanks, anyway." Good, Rémy, you're able to make a joke, she thought to herself. Now, keep forming sentences and you'll be good.

"Oh, Jesus. You ran all the way over here?" Rémy shook her head. "I could never do that. I give myself until down this block, and then I'd collapse." Rémy wasn't in bad shape or anything, but she was just one of those who could eat anything and not gain a pound. She was blessed in that regard. Which was good, because she was lazy. Sooo lazy. "It's not that far away, though... I mean, I wonder why we haven't met before." Light bulb. "Oh, do you go to that private school? St. James?" The pieces were slowly coming together. It was still early, and Rémy forgave herself for being so daft. But what she had picked up on almost immediately was the tone of the girl's voice, the flirting tone. That... was interesting. Rémy tried not to pay too much attention to it. The girl probably just slipped.

"You know what? Names might be good." Rémy smiled, held out the hand that wasn't holding the dog in place. "Mine's Rémy."

[portia]

"Oh, Jesus. You ran all the way over here? I could never do that. I give myself until down this block, and then I'd collapse."

"My mom's an exercise freak, so, naturally, our family has to be too." Portia explained sarcastically, putting her hands on her hips. God, she didn't even like her parents, but they somehow wormed their way into her life, so much that they were her every other thought. Almost like crazy parental mind control or something.

"It's not that far away, though... I mean, I wonder why we haven't met before. Oh, do you go to that private school? St. James?"

"Yeah, unfortunately." she replied with a curt laugh. She liked St. James less than her parents, and that was a lot.

"You know what? Names might be good. Mine's Rémy."

"Wow, that's a beautiful name. I'm Portia." she replied, reaching out to shake Remy's hand. It was smooth and cool... or her hand was just clammy. Damn. She was giving her more and more reasons to find her completely unattractive.

[remy]

The girl said Rémy had a beautiful name. How sweet. "Thank you," she said, then repeated after the girl. "Portia." She liked the way that name sounded. Or maybe Rémy liked everything about this girl. Which could pose a problem: the girl went to St. James. St. James didn't produce many lesbians, as far as she knew. Then again... Portia had said it was unfortunate that she went to St. James. And, really, wasn't she sort of flirting..? Rémy was having no problem picking that up, and--

Okay. Try not to get tied up in this.

"It's nice to meet you," she said. And it was nice. And then Rémy decided to be a bit more forward. Not in the whole... 'you're hot, let's make out' forward, but the 'we just met, let's get to know one another better and be friends' forward. "Do you think your exercise freak mother would object to you coming in for some coffee or tea?" And then she realized what time it was. "Oh. Forgot it was so early." She laughed nervously. Now, she knew, her mouth was going to run off with her. It happened when she got nervous. "I mean, I could probably drive you to your house or something if you don't want to run there. I sure as hell wouldn't want to." Another nervous laugh. This was all going to hell. "Or I could... you know, stop talking and run away quickly with Excalibur." She finished, her voice low and increduclous, at her own stupidity.

[portia]

Portia couldn't help but grin embarrassedly when she realized that even Remy was a little nervous. That made her feel a little bit better, or if not, a little bit bolder.

"Well, I am pretty exhausted. I might collapse on the way home, so why risk it? I think I'd like a ride." she over-exaggerated, in a way that let Remy know that she was over-exaggerating. Smiling slyly, she felt a bit bad. Remy was probably just being friendly and Portia was being... well, flirty and taking entirely too much advantage over the situation.

[remy]

"Oh," Rémy said with raised eyebrows. She really hadn't expected Portia to take her up on the offer, considering how freaking weird Rémy was acting. "Cool. Uhm..." She looked back at her house. "Well, if you'd like to come in, I should probably put clothes on." She looked down at her pajamas with a sheepish grin. "And Excalibur needs to go inside, so..." She trailed off, gesturing towards her house. "If you want to run," she continued with a grin. "Be my guest. But you'll have to wait for me at the door." She started off, being pulled by Excalibur who was excited after hearing his name aloud. Damn dog. For a little thing, it had some strength. And it was making Rémy look weak in front of the girl she found herself wanting to impress. Oh, Jesus. She was not acting like herself.

[portia]

Portia followed Rémy, but not before doing a silent "OH MY GOD" jig behind her back. This was completely unlike her usual self, but it was so amazing, finally talking to someone who didn't expect her to act a certain way. Maybe, if this turned into a true friendship, Rémy could be her escape from the life she lived at home.

Now, if it somehow turned into a relationship, well, that was a different story... but for, now she settled for getting to know her.

"So," Portia began, matching Rémy's stride, "What grade are you in? I assume you go to George Washington... what's public school life like?"

[remy]

"Ah, yes, school," Rémy grumbled. "You had almost made me forget that it existed." She smiled, though she was absolutely serious. She didn't enjoy school very much, especially at George Washington. She was slightly envious of Portia; she went to a nice school. Then again, anything was nicer than GW, as far as Rémy was concerned. "Well. Public school is... eh." She paused, tugging against Excalibur's leash, attempting to stay at the same pace as Portia. "Full of intolerant people that I've had to live with for twelve years." She shook her head. "And the word public describes it all too well. My personal life is non-existant, and everything is public." They reached the yard and, soon enough, the front porch. Rémy opened the door and removed Excalibur's leash, pushing him inside. "Come in," she said, gesturing for Portia to go past her and into the house. Rémy looked inside briefly, hoping the place looked presentable. It was, of course, impeccable. Both her and her mother were on the clean freak side, although her father was an absolute slob. Luckily, as far as Rémy could see, the upper middle class domicile was spic and span.

[portia]

"Doesn't sound much different than St. James, really. Intolerant assholes, gossipy bitches... the uniforms are probably the only big difference." Portia said, giving angry sigh. She'd been hoping that St. James was the waterhole of pricks, just in case she got to change schools, but it appeared they were all pretty much the same.

Glancing up, she realized that she was entering Rémy's house and panicked. It seemed so easy to talk to her, but being in her house made her heart do gymnastics. Portia had been in girls' houses before, but none belonging to someone she found attractive. Not to mention that this had happened so fast.

[remy]

"Ugh," Rémy said in reply. "Uniforms. I don't know how you do it." She shook her head and walked ahead, going into the living room. "Speaking of uniforms..." she said slowly, then glanced down at herself. "I suppose my yummy sushi pajamas aren't appropriate for public dress." She grinned, then pointed at the couch. You could, er, have a seat if you want, and I'll run upstairs and get changed... Do you want a drink or something? Water? Vitamin water, even? Carbonated water? Flavored water?" Rémy glanced at the clock, saw the time, and cringed inwardly. Her whole morning routine was thrown off, but somehow she didn't mind that much. Portia was a good distraction. "Anyways, better get going, the fridge is riiiiight..." She pointed again. "There. Help yourself. I'll be back in a second." Rémy sprinted off, all the while scolding herself for speaking so much and not even giving Portia time to respond. Well, that was just how Rémy worked. Fast-paced. She rarely slowed down... not by choice, but necessity. So she ran up the stairs, into her room, and when she got in and closed the door, she stopped dead in her tracks.

And then something happened to her that had never happened before.

She was having a clothing crisis.

Shit, what am I supposed to wear? she thought, frantically going over to her closet and rummaging through her things. She usually wasn't so picky, but... Why do I want to impressher? Rémy asked herself. It's not like she's looking. Rémy threw off her yummy sushi pajamas and slid into a pair of jeans, threw on a black sweater and slipped into her patent leather ballet slippers. She ran a brush through her hair in less than two seconds and was down the stairs. The whole process took about four minutes.

Yeah... fast-paced.

[portia]

Portia watched as Rémy sped off in an instant, leaving her alone downstairs. She was pretty trusting to leave a semi-stranger in her house unattended; she'd even offered her something to drink. Smiling at the cleanliness of the house, she did a little sight-seeing and looked around the kitchen, studying various photos and memos that lay in their respectable places. It was wonderful.

But it seemed as if only seconds had passed when Rémy came bounding down the stairs, looking entirely gorgeous and put together in the amount of time it took Portia to consider getting out of bed. Scratching her neck slightly, she gestured with her other hand at the space they were in.

"Your house is really nice." she remarked, grinning a bit when she realized how typical of a comment that was. Now if she'd said something like...

"... but you look even better." Portia found herself saying aloud, surprised once again by her own audacity. This was really getting weird, how unlike herself she was being. Hopefully Rémy wouldn't see the lesbian-ness in the compliment and would just accept it.

[remy]

Rémy had opened her mouth to thank Portia for the comment about the house, but her voice caught in her throat when Portia continued on with the compliment. She gaped for a second or two, then attempted to recover. But she could feel her face getting red. Despite her calm reply of, "Why, thank you," she knew her body language would betray her like it always did. She shifted on her feet, looked down at the floor, smiled a bit, ran her fingers through her hair. Oh, Jesus... she thought to herself. She had that problem constantly, wearing her heart on her sleeve and failing to keep her feelings to herself. She knew Portia was just trying to be nice and everything, but Rémy couldn't help that her mind was running off with her.

"Um..." Rémy started, searching desperately for something to say. Something suave. Something impressive? "Anywho, you want to... get that drink? Or... you probably have to get home, I can get my keys and... ah..." Rémy stumbled over her words and just trailed off somewhat pathetically. She cleared her throat and walked over to the nearby desk where she usually kept her keys. She shuffled through some papers, moved them out of the way, picked them up, but she couldn't find her keys. Maybe it was that her hands were shaking, or that her attention was somewhere else completely. "I can never... find my keys..." she said, telling a little white lie to cover her fumbling actions. Why is it that whenever I find a cute girl, she's unavailable? Rémy thought to herself as she spotted her keys and pounced on them. Unavailable unavailable.

[portia]

Portia watched, both amazed and excited at Rémy's reaction to her compliment. If she'd had any doubts about being a lesbian, they were gone in that instant, as she felt a warm, tingling sensation skittering around her body. Deciding that if her boldness hadn't gotten her in trouble yet, this wouldn't be an entirely unacceptable question to ask.

"Oh it's alright. I don't want to hold you up. I mean, you've probably got some friends, or a boyfriend to pick up..." Portia remarked, subtly trying to gathering information on Rémy's social life - but more importantly, her romantic interests.

[I'm sorry it's so bad, but I wanted to say SOMETHING, so this is what crapped out of my fingers. : ( ]

[remy]

[It's an amazing post, as all of yours are.]

Rémy snorted gently as she turned around, keys in hand. "No. No boyfriend," she returned quickly. "Uhm... I usually just drive to school by myself." Was this girl trying to delve into her social conquests? Not that Rémy objected. Why does she have to be so cute? Rémy usually didn't fall this easily for someone, especially when it was someone she didn't know and someone she thought was out of her league and sexual preference. This whole situation was a little awkward, but the adrenaline pumping through Rémy's veins told her that she was actually enjoying herself.

"Moving on..." she muttered to herself, then wore a smile for Portia. Best not make the company wonder about her sanity. "So. It's up to you. A drink or a drive." Rémy put her hands out to the side, mimicking scales. "I've got plenty of time before I have to go to school," she added, trying to make it sound like an off-handed comment when in reality she was just trying to spend more time with this girl. You know, who really cared if she made an ass of herself? She didn't expect to see Portia again, really. She sure wanted[/b] to... but she didn't think it was likely.[/color]

[portia]

Portia had been taught as a child to politely refuse offers, but she felt that this instance was an exception - especially with a stunning girl like Rémy. How funny; she was breaking her parents' etiquette for something that broke her parents' religion.

"I am pretty parched." she said, donning a thoughtful grin. "Jogging can be a rather thirst-quenching business."

She was joking good-naturedly and hoped that appealed to Rémy. If she couldn't get away with flirting, she at least wanted to appear friendly.

[sorry it's so short! XO]

[remy]

[S'okay!]

Rémy had been hoping for an answer like that. "Good," she said, and smiled widely. She threw her keys back onto the table - where she probably wouldn't be able to find them - and bounded off to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and peered inside, reached in, rearranged things, stood back with a scrutinizing eye. She called through the little window that looked from the kitchen into the living room, where Portia still was. "I could make tea," she offered. "Or if you're in the mood for something colder, water... milk, apple juice, orange juice, green tea, the usual sodas... Uhm..." She turned to look at Portia. "Anything sounding good to you?"

It was strange, but looking through that little window and at Portia's face shocked Rémy. What was this? A fast heartbeat? Nervous movements? All signs pointed to - You've only known - if 'known' is even the right verb - this girl for 10 minutes and youlike her. Overwhelming, uncomfortable, and kind of disappointing. Rémy thought she was taking this girl's kindness as something else, as something more than it really was. She had to try to stop jumping to conclusions or she'd dig herself even deeper.

[portia]

Portia wandered into the kitchen doorway, and leaned against it, watching Remy sort through the refridgerator. Was she getting uncomfortable? Hopefully not; this was her first time actually expressing herself in the presence of another girl, and she didn't want to lose this newfound confidence by putting her off.

"Oh, I haven't had apple juice in years." she said, perhaps a tad too eagerly. It was true though; the only juice at her house was pomegrante, which became sickening after a while. Taking Rémy's question as an invitation into the kitchen, she walked in and stood by the refridgerator door.

[remy]

"In years, you say?" Rémy returned, a bit of a laugh in her voice. Her eyes followed Portia as she came into the kitchen. The small smile that had been on her face disappeared a little bit, but she quickly turned to get some cups out of the cabinet so it didn't know. JesusChristyou'rebeingridiculous. Rémy grabbed the applejuice from the fridge and poured some in each, then returned it. She took a split second to take a breath, maybe calm herself down, then she turned around and handed Portia her cup with a smile. "Drink up," she said warmly, then took a sip of her drink. Ahhhhh...

"So," Rémy said in that what-do-we-talk-about-now voice. She leaned back against the counter and took another sip of her drink, probably to distract herself from bluntly staring at Portia. "You look considerably cooler than you did a little bit ago." Oh, good one, Rémy. The poor, slightly nervous girl shifted her weight from one foot to the other, internally scolding herself. That wasn't a very flattering comment, or one she wanted to say at all.

[portia]

Portia took the comment as a compliment and smiled, pausing the the drink at her lips.

"Well, I'm glad. I mean, I don't really like being hot and sweaty... that is, not in normal circumstances."

She then took a drink after her response to keep her blush obscured. That statement was a little more than suggestive and Portia's mind was demanding to know why her mouth even said it in the first place. Everything she was thinking seemed to be infiltrating her conversation, which was probably what was making Rémy uncomfortable. Damn. She just couldn't seem to supress the loud-mouth lesbian she kept bottled inside.

The only thing Portia could wish for now was that Rémy wasn't offended by the innuendo. Jesus, they met after all!

[remy]

Rémy laughed aloud and almost spilled her drink. But luckily she had some kind of control back and she could, you know.... just pass her clumsiness off as amusement rather than nervousness. She couldn't help but think... all of these comments Portia was making kind of implied that she was... well, that she was something Rémy hoped for but probably wouldn't get. The way she was handling herself, though, and what she was saying... Maybe..?

Rémy took a deep, rattling breath, a pleasant and amused blush on her face. "Excuse me for laughing so much," she said, shaking her head. "I just haven't had a good laugh in a while." She smiled broadly at Portia and tilted her head to the side a bit. "Honestly," she said, her voice soft. "Your being here is kind of refreshing." There. She had said something nice and true for once. And it wasn't forced.

She was so proud of herself.

[portia]

"Honestly, your being here is kind of refreshing."

Portia chuckled a bit and took a swig of her juice, accidentally spilling a bit on her shirt.

"Refreshing, you say?" she said, muttering a curse or two under her breath as she rubbed at the spot forming. "I'm not sure I've heard that one before. Is it a good thing?"

She wasn't always the best at deciphering forced kindness from the honest type, and in this particular situation she was at an even bigger loss.


[that was so utterly crap, i cannot even believe it.]