Miss Denmark

as thank you

The drive was long and silent, not that I was surprised. I looked out the window at all the city lights. It was still late summer and still warm so I hadn't brought a cardigan, but it wasn't an issue.

We reached his garage.

I unbuckled when Alexander did.

He got out of the car, and I got out of the car. No matter what, I needed my own clothes and my bag.

I lifted the skirt and stopped next to Alexander by the elevator, he had his phone in his hand.

The elevator arrived with a pling and I stepped in before him.

He punched in the code and scrolled down his phone.

Yeah, it was nice talking to you too. I put my arms loosely around myself. I had goosebumps. Damned air-condition. And that even though the air-condition could've been much worse.

We reached the living room. Cold and white.

I went back to the room with my clothes. What would he want to do with the clothes I'd worn tonight?

I put the jewelry back in its boxes. I opened the shoes and stepped out of them. I removed the hair pins from my hair, went and locked the door, before changing into my own clothes. Including the underwear.

What time was it even?

I found my phone. Dad had sent a mail, but that would have to wait.

One.

It was one in the morning.

I had all my stuff. Alright. My next goal would be to find Mr. Greene and hear if I could get a lift home or if I had to take the subway.

I ran my fingers through my hair and went back to the Livingroom.

Greene was on the coach, his gaze directed at the hallway from which I came.

I stopped when I entered the room. "Can I have a ride home or do I have to take the metro?" I asked.

His eyebrows put his eyes in shadow. "Stay." He said quietly.

"No," I said in the same tone.

He looked at me. He worked his jaw back and forth, tense tremendously. "Fine!" he said and stood. "Jazz!" he called and then looked at me. "Clothes and shoes are yours," he said, directed to me. "As thank you."

I sighed. Why didn't we talk? Short and brief commandos didn't lead us anywhere. Nor did glowering.

It appeared as if it caused him great trouble to swallow the commando he would've given me. "Will you please bring the clothes before Jazz takes you home?"

"Yes," I said. Ask nicely and I'll answer politely. I turned and went back to the room. Lingerie, dress and shoes. Not that I was sure what I'd use that dress for. Would I ever be invited to parties that required that kind of nice clothes?

Nah.

I put the clothes and shoes in the bag, grabbed the bag and went back to the living room.

Greene was sitting, the butterfly in his hand. It was untied. "Thank you for going." He said and looked at me.

Did I say thank you for asking? Or you're welcome? It felt so lame, especially because neither of us wanted to involve the other in anything.

He stood and went to the elevator. He pressed the button and looked at me.

I didn't say anything. My Dad wasn't good at filling out long, awkward silences, but even he knew how to direct his attention towards me as if he wanted to hear what I said.

Greene?

He didn't look at me. His gaze was on the butterfly he had between his hands.

The pling announced the elevator's arrival.

"Have a nice weekend," he said and looked at me.

"You too," I said and stepped into the elevator.

The doors shut. This wasn't some Fifty Shades scene in which we said each other's names and then longed for the other.

Nah.

The doors shut, I leaned back in relief. He wasn't scary, and I didn't think he'd ever flip out or anything, but it was a little terrifying how he almost commanded me and then halfway got mad if I said no to him. With exception to that, it had been a fine night. Well, except that we didn't exchange one word with one another.

I wanted to go home and sleep and see if I could find any classes on economy. Yes, reading and grammar was fun, but I wanted a challenge. Grammar wasn't a challenge any longer. Weird and abstract satires that hardly made sense, was different. I wanted to do something besides that, understand my buying and selling of stock better than I did now.