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from a dead sleep to a crying hysterical mess. I knew that Josh wanted to give me time to figure it out before working on it with me, but I was terrified. Id put off even looking at it because I didnt know where to start. Now that I saw Id be almost naked, I was even more reluctant.
I tried to argue about the teddy, to no avail. Even Masha sided with the designer. Her name was Sydney, and she was a cute, butchy feminist. We had some friends in common, and she was the last person Id expect to design a needlessly revealing costume.
"Look," Masha said, in Sydneys defense, "it was the 50s. This is what 20-something women slept in."
Still, I whined. I glared at Sydney across the table.
"Rose is young and vibrant," Josh piped in. "Thats the whole point of her—that she escaped from the Holocaust seemingly unscathed. Shes romantic. She wants to live. She wants a man. She wants to look like Marilyn Monroe."
I sighed and rolled my eyes. I looked at Masha, who was trying not to laugh.
"Cant she just wear a nice dress?" I said. "Something with a slit up the side?"
"To sleep in?" said Sydney. I looked at her. She gnawed on her pen.
"Well, what else did women wear to bed in the 50s?" I pleaded.
Sydney pulled her chair around to me and got several sketches out of her portfolio. She sat backwards on it and began to show them to me while the others talked about the rehearsal schedule over Thanksgiving. I realized I was monopolizing the designer, but since no one else had a problem with costumes, I figured it was okay.
"When researching the time period," she began patiently, "I found seven basic styles of sleepwear for women." She flipped through the drawings slowly. She was so close her knees were surrounding me.
I tried to look at her sketches but was noticing her mussed hair, which was black and short. Her eyes were gray, and she was wearing baggy, olive green cargo pants and a white t-shirt. Her forearms were tanned and muscular. I imagined them getting that way from her drawing for hours, propped on her elbows, outdoors somewhere. When she got to the last drawing, she leaned in, her eyes meeting mine.
"I think youll agree," she said quietly, "that none of these other six is anything Rose would wear."
I looked at the pictures. I could hardly think, but knew she was right. All of the other styles were either too old or too masculine. It had to be a teddy. But pink?
"Most teddies were pink," Sydney answered before I asked. "White was also an option, but white works horribly on stage. It gets dirty too easily; it makes a glare with the lights; it tends to be transparent." She met my eyes with a lopsided grin. "Plus," she said, "Rose seemed pink to me."
I knew defeat when I saw it. I thanked Sydney, pushed her knee aside, and got
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up.
"Hey, Kelsey, were not done yet," said Robin.
"I know," I told her. "I have to pee."
Out in the hallway, Sydney found me. I was leaning against the wall, my fingers slowly recovering from the feel of her knee.
"They decided to break for fifteen," she said. "Here, try it on." She handed me the teddy. "Sometimes that helps."
I looked at her doubtfully. She pushed me into the bathroom, followed me into a stall, and started helping me undress. It occurred to me that the situation was getting intense. Sydney, however, was all business, rushing to get me into the teddy, then tucking and pinning and measuring things. She was a whirr of activity, pinning the material at my bust and ass, making notes in her book, her gray eyes flicking here and there. I was impressed with her ability to put so many pins into the teddy without sticking me.
Two minutes later, she pulled me out of the stall and showed me. I had to admit, it was flattering. It was more comfortable than Id expected, and it didnt reveal as much as Id feared. I looked at Sydney behind me in the mirror and smiled.
"Sydney," I murmured, astounded, "this is really nice. Its not nearly as bad as Id thought. In fact, its kind of…classy."
"Good," she said, pulling me back into the stall, "glad you like it. Now we have eleven minutes."
She got me out of the teddy and was trying to get me dressed again. I felt suddenly grateful to her, for her design and her patience. Plus, of course, she was so hot and butch. I wanted to kiss her, but her mouth was full of pins. I reached up and pulled them out of her mouth, pushing them into the toilet paper roll, one by one.
"Its okay," she said, clearly misunderstanding, "I wont swallow them or anything. I do this all the time."
"I know," I whispered, standing on my tiptoes to lick her lips. "Im sure you could do it in your sleep."
I kissed her, pushing my hand up into her shirt. She gasped in surprise. I pressed my tongue into her mouth and moaned, happily anticipating the next nine minutes. I pushed my hand up towards her breast and grazed her nipple with my fingers. She shuddered, and I hurried to unbutton her pants.
I yanked her shirt off and took off her bra, my mouth closing on a nipple. She was panting as I pushed her pants down and slid my fingers into the elastic of her boxers. I continued to tongue her nipple, and I pressed her into the tile wall as my fingers reached her vulva. It had been less than a minute since I kissed her, and I wouldnt have been disappointed to find her still dry, but she was soaked. As I separated her lips and slowly began to flick her clit, she groaned.
"God, you got wet fast," I whispered as I bit softly on her nipple.
"No, Kelsey," she said, pulling
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