Bathroom Conundrum (2 of 4)
Getting to know each other involves some challenges.
part 1 | part 2 (current)
Chapter 3
“Will you let go of me anytime soon?”
When I release my grip, she takes a step back. “Thank you.” Her eyes are still locked on mine.
“No problem.”
“We shouldn’t give up. Let’s try the window again. Can you pass me the towel, please?”
I don’t move. I take in her uniformly tanned body, her perfectly shaped breasts, her flat stomach with a cute navel…
“Want me to turn around so you can admire the view from all angles?" There’s not a hint of embarrassment in her expression.
“Sorry… It was so sudden and… You're not trying to cover yourself in panic.”
“I’m used to strangers seeing me naked.”
“You are?”
“Oh, I’m not a stripper or something. I’m a naturist. I sunbathe and swim at naturist beaches, and don't wear clothes when I can avoid them.”
“A nudist?”
“Naturist. There’s a clear distinction. I don’t do it for the fun of running buck naked. I'm motivated by my love for nature.”
“I see no difference.”
“You won’t until you try it. I can take you to my favorite spot if you like.”
“No, thank you.”
“Afraid to bare it all? Nudity is the norm there, so you stand out if you wear something.”
“It’s not for me.”
Her stare trails downwards, pausing at my zipper. “You have a small dick or something? No one would care. It’s a judgment-free zone. People respect—”
“I don’t have a small… Well, that’s none of your business.”
“Size doesn’t matter.”
“Really?”
“Well, it does. Particularly the girth. But I’m supposed to say it doesn’t. Never mind. Can I have my towel? I’m getting cold.”
It dawns on me she’s been naked this whole time, yet it ceased to faze me at some point. Perhaps she’s right about nudity, and one can get used to it after all.
“The towel? Please?”
I hand it to her. “Never lose your towel. It’s the most useful thing in the universe.”
Her face lights up with a huge grin. “It's from the book.” She wraps the towel around herself, knotting it between her breasts. “Thank you. Want to try the window again?”
“I will. But alone this time.”
“I won’t lose my towel again. Unless…" She steps back, leaning against the sink. "…you want me to.”
"Keep it on."
She laughs. “You must have felt lonely when your parents sent you to England. A young boy with no family.”
“I lived with my aunt.” With both hands on the window, I take a deep breath and brace myself. My muscles strain, trying to force the window open, but it barely budges. “Bloody hell…” I step out of the bathtub.
“It was worth a shot. I guess we’re back to square one. So… visiting your parents? How did it go?”
“They’d left for a holiday.”
“They don’t like you, do they?”
A lump forms in my throat, sealing off any words. I cough to mask it.
“Sorry. I have this knack for blurting out what comes to my mind. I didn’t—”
“That’s ok. I didn’t tell them I was coming. I bet you don’t have this problem. Your parents must adore you.”
“They’re both dead.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“They’ve been dead for three years now. I’m okay.”
“You’re living on your own?”
“I’m twenty-one. I'd better be.”
“Still in college?”
“I dropped out.”
“Oh… What do you do for a living?”
“You’ll laugh at me.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
“I write.”
“Write? Write what?”
“Books. Fiction.”
“That’s… That’s astonishing! Why did you think I would laugh?”
“I write romance.”
“What’s wrong with writing romance?”
“Some people think it’s stupid.”
“Some people are stupid.”
“True.” She beams at me. “I’m thinking of returning to college. To study creative writing.”
“That’s great. Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know yet. Perhaps…” She gives me a long stare. “…Cambridge?”
“It’s expensive. I mean, since your parents—”
“That’s not a problem. I wrote a few bestsellers, and I’m set for life.”
“Set for life? At the age of… Wow. I’ll never say writing romances is stupid.”
She sighs. “My fans won’t help us here. We’re still stuck.”
“So we are.”
Chapter 4
“Do you know any games?” She asks after a few minutes in silence.
“Games?”
“Since we’re destined to spend indefinite time here together, why not make it fun?”
“Right…” As if it wasn’t fun already. I try to recall some games, then say the first thing coming into my mind. “Truth or dare?”
“It’s a classic.”
“I get to ask the first question.”
“Fair enough.”
“Truth or dare?” My intuition says she’ll choose ‘dare’.
“Mmm…Truth.”
Apparently, with her, I can’t rely on my intuition. “All right. Let me think for a moment.” What else would I like to hear about her. Then I remember how she looked in that wet dress, and one question seems to ask itself. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Lame.”
“You’re supposed to answer.”
“I don’t have one. But it’s not only lame. It doesn’t tell you anything. I could have a husband. Or a girlfriend. And you reveal too much about yourself. You wouldn’t ask this question if you weren’t interested in me.”
“I just saw you naked. Everyone would be interested.”
“Not if you find my body repulsive.”
“I don’t find your body repulsive.”
“See? I don’t need the game to learn what I need to know.”
“You needed to know if I found your body repulsive?”
“I didn’t. That I knew the moment I saw your reaction when I lost the towel.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks a second time.
“It’s my turn now.” She gives me a teasing smile. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“What’s the most important thing for you in a relationship?”
“Now you’re revealing yourself.” I point my finger at her. “You’re supposed to ask me something like: what’s the most embarrassing moment in my life?”
“Lame.”
“Okay. The most important thing for me is… balance.”
“Balance?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean?”
I make myself more comfortable on the edge of the bathtub. “Well… I believe both partners need to feel like equals in a relationship. There can’t be only one who has all the power and control. We need to give and take—compromises on both sides. So neither person feels like they’re making all the sacrifices.”
She wrinkles her nose. “That’s so…”
"Lame?"
“...wise. What about passion?”
“Passion?”
“Passion is important, too.”
“Passion is vital, but it can’t overpower everything else. It should exist alongside mutual care, respect, and understanding. Passion without substance is just… infatuation. It won’t last.”
“I disagree. Without passion, the relationship withers and dies.”
“Interesting point.”
“So, one partner shouldn’t dominate the other?”
“Definitely not. A healthy relationship allows both partners to retain their individuality while coming together in harmony. Like two melodies that complement each other to create a beautiful song.”
“How romantic… But what if a partner wants to be dominated?” She winks at me.
“Right. That’s too many questions. My turn. Truth or dare?”
“I’ll stick with the truth.”
“Very well… What are you doing at this party? You don’t seem to enjoy it too much. Who invited you?”
“That’s two questions.”
“But related.”
“My friend invited me.”
“A female or a male friend?”
“That’s another question.”
“Still within the realm of the original one.”
“A female friend. We haven’t seen each other for ages.”
“How come you’re not with her now?”
“She stood me up. I got her text to come here, but when I did, I couldn’t find her anywhere. I retreated to the top floor, hoping she’d turn up later.”
“You ignored the ‘private’ sign.”
“That’s just stupid—it’s all private property, anyway. If you don’t want people to see your house, don’t invite them.”
“Makes sense.”
“And you ignored the sign, too. Truth or dare? My turn.”
I feel if I choose ‘truth’ again, she’ll say ‘lame’. That’s why I risk having to do something stupid. “Dare.”
“Wow. I didn’t expect that from you.”
I raise my hands in an ‘I give up’ gesture. “Dominate me.”
She lights up, her lips forming a huge smile. “Can I?”
“I’ll risk it. Just do it with… passion.”
“What about balance?”
“Well… I'll get to ask another question.”
“Not if I never choose ‘dare’?”
“I bet you will.”
“You know me so well.” She tightens the towel on her breasts. “You even saw me naked.”
“An image I’ll never forget.”
“And you didn’t find my body repulsive.”
“Not in the least.”
“So, if we’re supposed to have balance, I have a perfect task for you.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Take off your clothes.”
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Listen to a cute, romantic story, with one witty, sassy American woman, and a somewhat proper British guy, trapped in the bathroom with nothing to do. What a great example of how to use forced proximity trope to its fullest potential.