Athena's Story Ch 6

Athena is intensely self-conscious as she climbs out of her car. Despite explicit instructions from the crew not to do so, so she has overthought and overcorrected for today’s introduction. She doesn’t remember the thousands of compliments she has received over the years. She only remembers the momentary look that Nadia gave her on Tuesday that told her she looked like shit, confirming something that she already suspected.

Today, she has done maximum effort. Her hair and nails are done. She wears the cutest pickleball outfit that money can buy, and she even did a little warmup before driving to the gym.

That would all be well and good if she weren’t convinced that they will all see through her in an instant. And they will. She’s not imagining that. When her therapist finds out about this, she will metaphorically spank her so hard that she won’t figuratively sit down for a year. She can already feel the judgment, and it makes her want to curl up in bed and never come out.

It’s too late to change course now. She carries her bag into the gym, where Tracy and Mary wait. Their momentary hesitation when they see her says it all. She’s making a fool of herself. On the bright side, she’s so depressed that she doesn’t have the energy to beat herself up. That will come later, when she’s alone at home, demanding of herself: why do I keep doing this?

“Love it,” Tracy says, looking her up and down. She’s not kidding, and that only makes it worse. “We are geniuses.”

“You look pretty,” Mary says.

“Geniuses,” Tracy repeats. “We know your wife’s coming back, so you want to keep it casual. We found you someone you wouldn’t be able to stay with if you wanted to.”

Athena frowns and tries to figure that out. “I love how you guys talk about this like you’re matchmakers.”

“We are!” Mary says excitedly. “My oldest used to be obsessed with this cartoon about beach volleyball, and they just played it like those partners were real couples. Drama! Very, very gay stuff. So gay. I think she liked it because of the bikinis.”

“We found you the perfect once in a while, no strings partner,” Tracy says.

“OK, you’re not communicating this well. Be nice,” Mary says, swatting Tracy on the arm. She takes Athena’s hand and pulls. “It really is a good fit, though. It’ll be easy for you to jump over to your wife when she gets here.”

“Um, OK,” Athena murmurs.

They take her to a woman near the vending machines. She’s smaller than Athena, dark-haired with crazy bangs and chunky glasses. She wears a gray hoodie with cutoff sleeves and purple bicycle shorts. Her shoes are Vans. She’s older than Chadlee and Kayla, but younger than Athena. She wears no makeup. Athena can’t stop judgment any more than she can stop the flow of time. With a ton of effort, this young woman could be a Gurlberg 7, which is equivalent to a Miami 5.5. It’s the first time Athena has ever been tempted to use the word ‘plain’. On the other hand, this girl has an incredible thigh gap. Athena’s eye twitches.

Tracy bubbles. “OK! Blair, this is Athena. Athena is as sweet as she is beautiful, and she’s new to the game. Athena, this is Blair. Blair is the best player who comes here.”

“Hi. How you doing?” Blair asks without much enthusiasm, offering her hand.

Athena smiles and shakes. “Hi! I’m great. It’s good to meet you.”

ATHENA

The white photography backgrounds bow in the wind on the emerald lawn. Sal squints, eyes watering, and her hair blows about her face. She’s surrounded by lights, sandwiched between the Woodcock twins, Missy and Sissy.

“OK, just hold on a second, hold onto your hair,” Delta says with a laugh as she adjusts her camera. The photographer wears her hair in a short, black bob and black and white clothing, often with a check pattern. The wind dies down. “OK! Reset.”

Sal aligns her feet with the markers, then wraps her arms around the twins, who cling to her. They all wear the sexy FUTA tennis outfits, which are like any other tennis look, just a little shorter and tighter. Sal can’t wait to get to work redesigning them, but she has to deal with this first.

Delta flashes a thumbs up and kneels, readying her camera. “OK, good. Now, give me that blue steel.”

“I thought that was a joke,” Sal replies.

“Sal, I need you to be Adella Salazar.”

Sal raises an eyebrow. “I’m supposed to look like I’m sleeping with these two?”

“Is that not how Adella would look?”

Sal cannot keep the skepticism out of her voice. “No, I’m just—do we really want **** front and center for the brand?”

“Whoa, ****?” Delta lowers her camera. Nearby with another technician, Annette and Dulcita look on. Annette steps forward quickly.

“It’s not ****,” she says sharply.

“Excuse me? Dude, nobody’s hooking up with twins and not having them do stuff to each other,” Sal says.

“No. No,” Annette says through gritted teeth. “Twin fantasy does not count as ****, and it’s its own thing, off in its own category. It’s safe. It’s legit. Universal. It’s all in good fun. We know it’s a fantasy and not real, that’s what makes it OK.”

Sal’s expression has become one of thoughtfulness. “I don’t know if I buy that. Universal, maybe, but I think different people read it different ways. What about you guys? You’re the actual people being super objectified. Does it bother you? Being fetishized like that? Oh! Which one of you pinched my butt?”

“Gotta pay the rent, luv,” one of the twins says.

Sal is ashamed to admit that she can’t keep them straight. “OK, that’s valid. Does it feel incesty to you?”

“Are you asking if I want to gob my sister?” the other twin asks.

Dulcita’s brows rise.

“Nobody’s asking that,” Sal says hurriedly.

“Sounded like you were.”

“Did, really.”

“No, no, no.” Sal looks in panic at Annette, who glares. “I was asking about your feelings. Like how you felt about the possibility of someone looking at a picture like this and thinking that stuff.”

“He can think what he wants, can’t he? Long as I get paid. And he’s not a dick about it.”

That’s hard to argue with. Sal sighs. “OK. I’ll just go fuck myself, then.”

Both twins cling a little more firmly. They seem entertained, and they exchange a look, then smile up at Sal.

“Actually, it’s pretty cool that you stood up for us.”

“And that you thought about our feelings at all.”

“And that you’re the designer but still fit enough that they want your pic.”

Sal’s getting embarrassed. She clears her throat. “Actually, why am I out here? The person in the center should be an athlete, Annette.”

Annette shakes her head. “This is why you should stick to clothes. You look good, Sal. You’re front and center. People are going to want to know why, and they’re going to look it up and find out you’re the designer of the new line. They’ll learn that the new line is coming and the important trivia that the designer is hot—this is good marketing, Sal. Don’t screw it up by convincing my only pair of hot twins to unionize.”

The twins each throw up one hand. “Strike!” they say in unison.

One of them presses harder against Sal. “Hey. D’you want to get a drink later?”

“Yeah,” the other one purrs.

Should Sal get a drink with the Woodcock Twins?