bette davis eyes, sort of {WILL}

[bethany charisse spitznogle]

outfit!

It was Beth's first day and she looked like shit. She had spent a long time that morning picking out an outfit that would make the best impression on the professor for which she was TAing, but she still wasn't satisfied. Sure, her outfit matched (probably) and her hair was de-frizzed (she hoped), but no amount of makeup could fix her face. Since this was her first day at the university, she hadn't gone back to bed after this morning's show and had, instead, made sure that she had everything ready and together. She'd showered, dressed, blown out her hair, and slathered makeup on her face.

It didn't matter how much Dior Flawless Skin Extreme Makeup she rubbed into her cheeks or how much eyeliner and mascara she used to move attention to her eyes, she could not hide the dark circles underneath them. Even with all of her efforts, she still looked like a raccoon, something that her sound tech at the radio station was all too happy to point out before she left. She'd thought that her shower and time of relaxation would fix everything, but it was all in vain. She was now sitting in the coffee shop, wearing one of the few non-black skirts that she owned, looking like a made-up raccoon.

At least she had breakfast now. The bagel she'd scarfed during the show seemed miles away, especially since she'd only been able to eat half of it before her boss walked in to check up on her and spotted it. Apparently, she wasn't supposed to know that there weren't enough listeners to merit a no-eating rule. She'd tried to sneak it periodically throughout, but had eventually given up and given it to the sound tech. Now, she was staring at her spinach florentine sandwich, muffin, and orange juice, debating which coffee drink she wanted when she finished eating. Maybe that would liven up her face a bit.

[william dane baxter]

Will was not a morning person, no matter how cheerful he was during the day. It was imperative that no one speak to him before nine AM, and especially before he had his first morning cup of coffee.

He hadn't always been such a coffee-addicted morning grinch, however. Usually Will rolled out of bed around nine forty-five or ten and was ready to go. However, this behavior did not suit a professor and so now he was forced to look like a professional and get up at a decent hour.

Decent. Will snorted to himself as he picked up his chocolate chip muffin and mocha, looking for a table to sit down at. Starting off the morning with chocolate and coffee was probably not the smartest or healthiest idea, but at this point Will only cared about keeping his eyes open and not killing himself by accidentally stepping in front of a car.

Spying a very attractive, yet extremely tired-looking, woman sitting alone at a table, Will couldn't help himself. Even in an early morning stupor, his flirting radar kicked into high gear and he was walking to her table in mere seconds, flashing her his charming grin. "Mind if I sit down and caffeinate with you?" he asked.

Well, he didn't want to be rude.

[bethany charisse spitznogle]

While she read the menu and considered her different beverages, Beth tried not to consume her sandwich in two or three bites. After all, contrary to her stepbrother's assertions, she was not a barbarian. She was just hungry frequently. She managed this feat, just barely, but still had her sandwich finished by the time she decided that she would get a medium mocha with cinnamon, caramel sauce, and whipped cream on top. The mocha, she reasoned, would be made with skim milk, so that the whole thing was less calories. This was a good idea.

Satisfied that she would soon be both full and caffeinated, she looked down to start unwrapping her muffin. It was just as she was doing this that she heard a voice and looked up. Upon seeing a relatively attractive man standing in front of her, she looked around to see who he was talking to. Clearly, it was not her, as she was in full raccoon mode and would probably only be talked to by those who had no choice or by shiny things trying to get her attention.

After a few seconds, however, she realized that there was not actually anyone around her and she looked back up at him. "Yeah, sure, go ahead," she said, pulling her orange juice away from the empty chair. "Sorry, I'm really tired, so if you say anything and I just don't respond, I'll get to it when my brain does." She laughed nervously. Obviously, this was the perfect coverup for her previous confusion. He would never know the difference.

[william dane baxter]

Will watched with a bemused smile as the woman looked around herself. Clearly she thought he would never give her the time of day, which was cute. A little odd, but still cute. He pulled out a chair when she said he could and sat down, plopping his muffin and cup down in front of him. "Most people are tired when they enter a coffee shop," he chuckled, then lifted his own cup. "Case in point...largest size I could get, and I'm afraid it won't be enough."

Setting down his cup and wiping his hand on a napkin, he held it out to her. "Will Baxter, reformed caffeine addict. Or not, depending on how you look at it." He hoped she wasn't one of those odd women he had met recently who had a thing about touching hands that hadn't been soaked in a vat of sanitizer. Their hands were always dry and smelled of alcohol. And since when was everyone carrying chemical warfare on their palms anyways?

[bethany charisse spitznogle]

"I don't sleep enough to not be addicted to caffeine," she said, eyeing his coffee almost jealously. She really should have gotten her coffee with her breakfast, but she only had so many hands and the orange juice looked so much more thirst quenching. Whatever, she would just excuse herself as soon as it was no longer rude to do so and get her chocolate-caramel-cinnamon-nonfat latte. Preferably after the attractive man left so that he wouldn't see her fatting out. She was thankful he had come in AFTER the sandwich and only got to see the muffin.

While Beth was known to sanitize her hands frequently, she wasn't the type of person not to shake a hand and she closed hers around Will's. She'd always been told she had a good shake and so, after a firm one, let go and moved her hand back to her chocolate muffin, where it belonged. Muffins were so delicious.

"Beth," she said, not giving her last name. She had no need for strangers to mock her last name--she had her brother for that. "And I'd say needing a large coffee is a fairly good indication of your level of caffeine addiction," she pointed out, grinning. "I mean, I need to drink a whole pot to even feel really awake." She really needed that latte.

[william dane baxter]

Will snorted, taking a sip of his mocha and nearly sighing with happiness. She had a good handshake and, so far, she was fun to talk to. Definitely a morning boost. "I tried making a pot of coffee and then flavoring it, but it never worked out. I tend to like a lot of flavor and every time I tried it tasted like flavored milk. Not the same."

He took a moment to quickly survey her purchases. Nice muffin, they had the same one. Orange juice? Really? He was not a fan of the stuff; he hated how things floated in it if you didn't get a specific kind. "I may sound a bit rude in asking this, but if you're such a coffee addict, why do you have juice? The caffeine content is vastly different, and I don't think a chocolate muffin can fix that." He took a small chunk of his, grinning. "Though it helps," he said, popping it in his mouth.

[bethany charisse spitznogle]

That was the most important question of all, wasn't it? Why did she have juice? Certainly not because she was thinking clearly because, if she asked herself and answered honestly, she wasn't. The juice had just looked good at the time and she had found it a better way to use her hands than a latte at that particular moment.

"I drank about half a pot before I came," she said. "And I've been drinking since about two." She realized, after a few seconds, that this statement would probably be met with confusion since most people did not wake up at two AM and start to drink coffee. Most people, when they were awake at two AM, tried to go back to sleep or were in a hospital. Since neither of those applied, she obviously had to explain.

"I work as a radio host," she said. "Early shift. Really early shift. Last week was my first week on the job. And this week is actually my first week as a TA over at MMU, so things are kind of hectic. My brother called yesterday to remind me to workout, but I totally left my sweatpants and an entire suitcase of pajamas in his apartment and now I have to sleep in my other workout clothes, which I guess is okay since I never workout anyway, but it's not like I can in my pajamas." She shook her head, as if all of this had made sense and was totally relevant.

[william dane baxter]

Thankfully, Will was not a man of many questions. "What a way to start a new job...no pajamas. Workout clothes just aren't the same." He took another sip of his coffee before speaking again. "So let me get this straight. You're on an amazingly popular radio show, yet you still have time to form young minds? I'm in awe. All I do is get up, teach a class or two, and go home. Maybe I should get a television show to compete." He grinned, took another bite of his muffin, and swallowed.

"So what are you a TA for? My guess is dance performance. You can tie yourself into a knot, right? Put your legs behind your head, make your elbows touch behind your back, the usual?" The gleam in his eye made it clear he was joking, but not everyone got that and some girls grew angry after he bantered like that.

Though it hardly counted as banter if no one shot back. Will mentally crossed his fingers, hoping she would shoot something back at him. It may have been early in the morning, but he could never resist a witty conversation.

[bethany charisse spitznogle]

Beth was not the wittiest of people, but she could certainly hold her own in a conversation, mostly. Provided she wasn't internally moping about the raccoon state of her face, wishing she had a chocolate-cinnamon-caramel-whipped cream covered latte, and wondering what, exactly her last slew of words had been about.

Well, she would try to be witty.

"It's totally not popular. It's on at two in the morning. I don't even think my own mother would listen to it if she could get the radio frequency." She shook her head. "I had the same shift when I lived in New York and when my boss transferred me so that I could go to grad school, he made it seem like I was going to have it way better. But it's the same time slot, except with a worse boss." She shook her head. "If you got a TV show, it would probably slaughter me in ratings. Even if you got a radio show. You're already way funnier than I am reading the news off at two AM. Except for when my brother calls in to pretend to ask for advice. Then other people call in tell me how stupid I am." She shook her head. She needed to stop talking about her job or he was going to get bored and go away.

"Yeah, I would definitely call myself flexible," she said, rolling her eyes. She doubted any of the dancers ate muffins as often as she did and, with this thought, she had to stuff a third of the muffin in her mouth to console herself. "And I have been known to bust a move at weddings during the YMCA. Sometimes even the chicken dance, if I'm feeling really crazy."

[william dane baxter]

Score. She could definitely keep his attention, which was hard. Will didn't listen well.
"Well all the important news happens at two AM. If you like, I can call in to tell all your haters how lame they are to be listening so early. Though I wholeheartedly disagree, of course. Maybe we could have a TV show together...you read the news, I yell at people who call for advice."

He watched her eat her own muffin, liking her more and more. A lot of the girls he dated were strictly salad and water, with dressing on the side dieters. Not only was Beth not eating something that grew in the ground, but she was taking more than dust-sized bites too. Mornings were awesome!

He quickly resumed the conversation. "Whoa, a professional dancer! Do you offer lessons? I'm having trouble with the hokey pokey...I can't figure out if I put my left foot in first, or if I put it out first. I'm told there's no hope for me, but if you know the YMCA AND Chicken Dance, maybe you can save me from an eternity spent as a wallflower."

[bethany charisse spitznogle]

"If I insult my listeners, then I have no listeners and if I have no listeners, I have no job," she pointed out. Though she supposed that she didn't necessarily need a job, what with the whole being-a-TA thing, but it was nice to have some spending money and a way to pay her rent. "Besides, I don't want to be on TV. I just want to be a regular journalist. That's what I'm getting my masters in, by the way. Journalism." She paused to take another bite of muffin and, as she did, considered getting a cookie to go. It was only nine AM, sure, but she'd been up since two and for any other normal person that had been up seven hours, it would be like it was three in the afternoon, at least. So she was totally justified in her cookie.

"I don't know if it's possible to learn the hokey pokey this late in life," she said. "I mean, it takes serious skill. It took me awhile to get over my dancelexia and master it." She nodded and stuffed the rest of her muffin in her mouth, taking a swig of orange juice to wash it down once she'd finished chewing. "I could definitely take a swing at the electric slide, though. I mean, it's a little tricky, but once you learn the shimmy, I think you're pretty much set for life."

[william dane baxter]

Will polished his muffin off as well and leaned back in his chair. "The electric slide, eh? I've never considered that...I was told my case was hopeless with the hokey pokey. No alternative treatments such as the electric slide or boot scootin' boogie were suggested. I feel cheated by the medical profession."

He took another swig of his coffee, slightly bummed that it was less than half full. "So if you don't teach dance, what are you a TA for? How to type a news report?" He figured he wouldn't chime in with his class quite yet. Economics tended to shut girls down completely, which was frustrating. Not that he listened to others that well, but it was nice if people listened to him they way he needed to listen to them.

[bethany charisse spitznogle]

"It's a pretty sweet dance," she said, nodding. "Most doctors are probably too lame to even think of it. Although, I can't say that I know the boot scootin' boogie." She took another sip of orange juice. Maybe this conversation, since it was waking her up and keeping her occupied, was taking away her raccoon eyes. She would go check on that in between ordering coffee and receiving it.

"I'm teaching beginning journalism," she said, pursing her lips at his class suggestion in an attempt not to laugh. Obviously, mocking her chosen profession was not something she should be laughing at. "We're gonna do some serious research. We might even have to visit dance classes and stuff. I mean, I know one of the dance TAs, so he would totally be cool with it. And he's really attractive, so if I have a bunch of girls in the class, I'm sure that would give me major cool points. For having attractive friends, I mean." She pressed her lips together. Talking about other attractive males was not the best idea when chatting with an attractive male.

"So, are you a TA?" she asked. "Or do you just live here?" Obviously, he wasn't old enough to be a professor.

[william dane baxter]

He had to admit, she was pretty cute when she talked about journalism. He was glad that he seemed to at least be keeping her awake. He raised an eyebrow when she mentioned dance TAs. Didn't Drake know some guy who did something with the dance classes? "Dance TA, huh? What's his name?" He never understood why girls fawned over male dancers. 99% of the time they were homosexuals, anyways. Maybe girls were attracted to guys they could never, ever get.

But, that was a quandary to ponder another day. Beth was asking him about what he did. Oh Lord, here goes..."Actually, I'm starting my first year here as a professor. One of the non-art classes, unfortunately. Not only can I not dance, but I cannot write, paint, sculpt, or do anything remotely artistic. It's a travesty."

[bethany charisse spitznogle]

She knew she shouldn't have brought him up. It would only cause difficulties later, when she couldn't find the off switch for her mouth. "Sebastian," she said. "Sebastian Bernard. We met over the summer at TA training. He's a really good dancer and I think he's gonna be in some class called movement analysis, which will be a great experience for all of the budding journalists because analyzing movement is totally important. Not necessarily with dance, but like...if they're crime scene reporters or something." She nodded. She was training her future students to be freaking crime scene reporters. Obviously.

Her eyebrows flew up. He was a professor? He must have totally blitzed his degree. Although, she knew the statistics professor wasn't that old. Not everyone waited three years like she did. "I'm sure you're totally talented," she said, shaking her head at him and trying to remove the general shock from her face. "I mean, not every art is about...you know...art. I mean, you can talk and stuff. I'll bet you could act if you tried. Or like...be a comedian. Or...something," she trailed off lamely. "So what do you teach? I think I know the statistics professor...well, I've seen him, at least. I don't really know him. I just know of him. Sebastian told me." Great. Another man in the equation. He was going to think she wanted to get rid of him.