Natasha loves the way Sawyer talks about her work. She looks relaxed now, leaning over the box and pointing out where she put the lights for this production, and what a pain it was to move the set around to the different theatres.
On the cabinet next to the TV there are three Barbie dolls all propped up on stands. Natasha wants to make Sawyer laugh so she picks one up and moves her up and down the stage like a model.
Sawyer stands back immediately. She touches her fingers to the bridge of her nose, laughs, and then lets her hand fall back to her side.
"Sorry," says Natasha. "Should I not...?"
"No, no, it's fine!" Says Sawyer, brightly.
Natasha bends the hips of the doll so she can sit on the large dining table with her legs spread.
Sawyer winces and says, "Actually, can you...not?"
Natasha immediately puts the Barbie back on her stand and straightens her dress.
"Childhood favorite?" Natasha asks, feeling vaguely put out by Sawyer assuming she'll break it.
"No, that's the one I got after my first year in college. We could never afford them when I was a kid. After I got my first job I started to save up and buy vintage ones to celebrate things I'd achieved. Oh -" Sawyer interrupts herself, "I've got an idea!"
Sawyer digs into a plastic box near her.
"Do you have a Boston one yet?" Sawyer looks at Natasha for a few seconds before answering, "No, not yet."
Sawyer finally pulls out a zip-lock bag and spills out a vast quantity of tiny plastic dolls. They were nowhere near as pristine as the Barbies. Some had hair that had obviously been butchered by a child, or marker pen scribbled over their clothing.
"When I was small I had these instead, they're from the old Happy Meals."
Natasha holds one up. It's a tiny blonde doll with almost no facial details, and a three tier white and pink plastic wedding dress.
Natasha marvels, "It's hideous!"
"She's not!" whines Sawyer, snatching the doll back and cradling her.
They have a childish few minutes where they try and put together a girl band featuring themselves, and fit them on the stage. Natasha can't quite believe she's doing this on a date, but she likes the way that Sawyer's laugh rings around the empty flat. Sawyer is lying on her front with her legs crossed at the angles. She's a 90s dream girl, her big breasts pressed in between her elbows.
For herself, Natasha picks a Barbie wearing a blue jumpsuit on ice-skates, while Sawyer goes for a Barbie in a tropical print bikini top and pink wrap. Natasha likes to think their band has a bit of a Le Tigre vibe.
Sawyer phones a Thai takeaway and orders two portions of pad thai, one king prawn and one tofu. She tosses Natasha her iPhone and shouts, "Go on, pick us something!"
Natasha picks her favorite Kate Bush album and skips to the second song. She can't resist springing up and mouthing along to the 'It's in the trees! It's coming!' intro.
Sawyer takes her phone back and exclaims, "Oh, this album cover is so beautiful! Look what I can make my lights do!"
She swipes on her phone a couple of times, and the uplighters against the white wall turn rose and lilac. They match the colors of the album precisely. Natasha shimmies over to where the light fans out. She hams it up, miming throwing shoes into a lake; then lets herself fall into a back-bend only to spring back up again. She twirls and twirls and twirls, jumps across her make-shift stage. She clutches her chest and grabs the air as she squats down and whirls around.
Sawyer sits on her kitchen stool, whooping and clapping. The apartment is again ringing with her shrieking laugh.
Natasha is well attuned to how her muscles work. She knows how her joints feel when she comes down from a three-day bender, when her mouth is dry and her muscles shake. She knows how she feels when she's been doing yoga all day, her limbs feel tired but loose and sated. But she isn't ready for the onslaught of Sawyer, seven inches taller and a good few pounds heavier, launching herself at Natasha. She stumbles back with the weight of her and grabs on to Sawyer's back to steady them.
The doorbell goes, and Sawyer puts Natasha down to collect their food. She waves away Natasha's crumpled bills. Natasha levers off the paper lids and her face is hit with both the steam and the fragrant smell of lemongrass.
Neither of them use chopsticks. Natasha adds extra chillies to hers, and flicks all her mushrooms on to Sawyer's. Sawyer's long legs end up thrown over her lap.
After they've eaten, Sawyer disappears for a shower. She showers with the door open, and the smell of her jasmine shower gel gradually fills the apartment. The windows fog up. Natasha's fingers tingle with anticipation.
She reappears in the silk robe she had with her in the hotel room. Her hair is loose, weighed down and straightened by the water. Her face looks pink and scrubbed clean. Sawyer has her thighs pressed together and her foot bent outwards, like Botticelli's Venus re-imagined for a 60s Playboy shoot.
"I didn't invite you over here to play with my Barbie dolls," Sawyer whispers from the doorway. She plucks
