Tiny Tina's Teacake
By James Milne
()
About this ebook
Tina meets an artist whose dress hides a surprise, and changes her world.
Read more from James Milne
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Tiny Tina's Teacake - James Milne
Tiny Tina's Teacake
James Milne.
Tiny Tina’s Teacake
Author’s Note: Slow. Girl with dick. Self-discovery. Not interested? Look elsewhere.
%5%9%6%5%
Tina never exactly meant to burst into tears.
She’d sat down at the local bakery because she wanted a big and hot chocolate chip cookie, accompanied by a milkshake with a crazy number of mini marshmallows on top. She’d managed to place the order, but before it could arrive, her heart had given out and she dissolved into silent tears.
Several people twisted in their chairs so they weren’t looking in her direction, but she couldn’t stop the shaking of her shoulders as she completely fell apart. Weeping dead silently, not even a sniffle.
She jerked in surprise at the sound of the plate landing in front of her, Thanks. Sorry.
Chill.
The waitress replied, jumping into the seat across from her, and leaning back to flop their feet into the other chair. The woman didn’t prompt her, just relaxed and sipped at a straw in her own milkshake.
Tina wiped angrily at her face, I... I’m fine. You don’t need to -
Hate it when people lie.
The blonde interrupted her, I don’t actually care if you talk to me or not. Feel free to ignore me, or tell me to piss off. But don’t lie.
She stared at the woman in surprise, at the casual attitude that didn’t normally get to stick around in the service industry. The blonde idly stirred her drink, before sucking at it a little more. Beads of perspiration sliding down the steel vessel.
Tina smiled sheepishly, and gave a little suck at her own, Th-thanks. I think. I... Had a rough day.
Happens.
She took a deep and ragged breath, Are you... Asking me to talk? Or just keeping me company?
Either. Neither. Whatever.
The woman shrugged, giving away absolutely nothing.
I’m Tina.
She half-whispered, feeling utterly embarrassed.
The woman nodded, pausing to stir her drink, Aliss.
She blinked, the name niggling at the back of her head for some unknown reason. Umm... Worked here long?
Since I was a brat.
She shrugged, Orphanage across the road? That’s where I grew up. Ain’t talking ’bout it. And fuck any pity.
Tina swallowed nervously, Well, I feel worse.
Your problems are yours. I got mine.
The woman sipped her drink, Eat ya cookie, ’fore it sets. The worst that happens is always the worst. Ain’t nobody got a right to compare themselves to anyone else. That’s bullshit.
She broke the gooey biscuit in half, and held out a piece to the waitress, who just shook her head and continued drinking her milkshake. Tina tried to push her guilt down, breaking off a small and warm chunk, popping it into her mouth.
The silky liquid mass coated her tongue, and helped a little. She wiped at her cheeks in irritation, I don’t like... Crying. Or showing it. Not to anyone.
Hurting is hurting. Sticking a bandage on might slow the bleedin’, but you’ll still stain the thing.
Aliss replied stoically.
Tina smiled sadly, You do this for everyone who has a breakdown? You can’t be much older than me, and you’re playing the philosopher.
I’m an artist. In my nature.
Aliss shrugged.
Her eyes widened and her head jerked to the massive canvas on the wall. It was the first thing anyone saw when they entered the tiny store, just around the corner from the train station. A rolling landscape scene of the city at night, done in oils. Little apartments lit up, each showing a snapshot of their own story.
Down in the right hand corner, in a large and messy cursive, was the name, Aliss.
The woman nodded, Mmm. That one’s mine. Not exactly a favourite. Wasn’t in a good place when I made it.
I always got the impression... It was about... Abuse.
Aliss shrugged, Kinda. Some stories are that. Others are death. The least sad is probably the birthday party, with absent parents. The shadows, down in that alley? That’s the parent’s car. Like I said, weren’t in a good place. But most folk just think it pretty.
Its... Dark.
Tina said quietly and then sighed, Wish I could express myself that easy. Everything is just... Bad. Words don’t come, and I can’t draw.
The woman looked at her curiously, Naw. That’s bullshit. You might not draw like anyone else, but you can still make a feelin’. Say what. You finish your cookie, ’n I’ll show you to draw. No words needed.
Tina blinked, I’m seriously not an artist.
It’ll feel good, promise.
Aliss sipped at her drink.
She didn’t know this woman. She should probably just stop sulking, catch her train home, and go to bed. Let go of all the crap and try and deal with it tomorrow morning.
You’re sweet. Real sweet.
Tina shook her head.
Aliss stood up, and ruffled Tina’s hair, I’m around if you need me, girl.
That was when Tina realised she’d stopped crying. Her thoughts had even turned away from what had happened, momentarily. Instead, she’d been faced by the growing enigma of the rough and ready woman in front of her.
She almost called out, changing her mind.
But she was too much of a coward for that.
%7%3%2%
Tina stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and roughing up her soaked hair with it. She stepped onto the bathroom scales habitually, gave a small grimace at the ugly number it screamed back at her, and poked at her bloated stomach.
Milkshakes and cookies might make her feel slightly better, but the constipation that came with them due to her lactose intolerance, was a nasty bitch. Always made her feel heavy and fat, for the day or so before the wall dropped and everything escaped again.
She roughly dried herself before wrapping in a towel and stepping out of the bathroom and into the only other space in her apartment. Kitchen, bed, TV. It was all in the one room. The floor was half-carpet, half-linoleum, with a tiny bench you could barely balance a plate on.
She flopped onto the bed and habitually checked her phone.
She’d got a reminder email from her old boss that she was fired, and not to come in. All her private effects were with security, and they would be hand-couriered to her home address. Just to make sure she never set foot on the premises again.
Ignoring that bitch of a problem and turning to social media just made her feel worse. Her brother was celebrating a promotion, with the whole family congratulating him. Acting like he wasn’t a dick to them, most of the year.
Her ex-boyfriend had apparently made public the album of photos that had ended things between them, when she’d found it. Having the time of his life, in the back of more limos than she cared to count, whilst she’d been struggling to pay for their groceries.
He was apparently couch surfing with his party girls, and having the time of his life. More than one or two cumshots had managed to sneak by the useless automatic filters, showing girls who thought the asshole was a sexgod.
She tossed her phone to the floor and screamed into her hands.
%C%2%0%
The next morning found Tina in a quiet corner of the bakery, updating her resume, writing cover letters, and applying for as many jobs as she could from Southern Cross’ WiFi. The signal was somewhat weak and slow, here, but it was free.
A plate with three mini blueberry muffins, steaming, landed at her left wrist.
Those aren’t mine, sorry.
She said, without looking up from the screen.
Yeah, they are.
She looked up, surprised to hear the voice as Aliss sat down beside her. The woman unwrapped one and tossed it into her own mouth, before shrugging.
... I didn’t order them.
Tina said hesitantly.
Aliss shrugged, Gift. Deal with it.
She smiled weakly, taking one and nibbling on it, Th-thankyou.
The woman shrugged, which was when Tina noticed she wasn’t in uniform, today. Aliss was wearing a loose-fitting pair of jeans, and a plain black tank top. One of her elbows had a streak of black paint on it.
W-working on some... Art?
Tina fumbled for words.
Aliss gave a small nod, Mmm. Not that interesting. But if you need a distraction from that wreck, I could show you.
The job search?
Tina said glumly, It wasn’t even my fault. All I did was say the company should stay out of things before the boss’s court thing was settled.
Pricks don’t listen to pretties.
Aliss nodded sympathetically.
Tina’s cheeks went a tinge of red, Eh... Are you...?
That is a more complicated question than you would possibly believe. But I wasn’t flirting. Just pointing it out.
Aliss said with a touch of mirth, It’s also how the jerks would see it. You’re just a pretty to them. You could be the damn CFO and you’d still just be a pretty nothing.
She winced, Sometimes it really sucks that people can generalise and still get it right. I was a legal aide, by the way. I’m the most boring thing in the universe. And completely unemployable once word gets out I was fired.
Not boring to me. Well, law is. But you ain’t.
The woman shook her head, You carry a bit of... A fighter’s vibe.
Tina burst out laughing, Me? A fighter? I cry in stupid cafes. You need to recalibrate your antenna.
Going to sound insensitive, but how long until rent’s a problem, girl?
Aliss jumped conversation tracks.
She winced, Paid up the next two weeks? I’ve got crap-all savings.
Figured.
Aliss rubbed her chin, I’ve got a real crazy offer, if you’re interested. Not just from me, mind. The Museum is running a gallery, next month. A thing on portraits and perspective.
Tina nodded hesitantly, I... I’ve seen the ads. Kinda. Didn’t pay any attention to them. But I’m really, really, not an artist.
They’re looking for models. We are.
Aliss shrugged, Pays kinda crap, but it could tide you over until you find something. Just need to sit, and be pretty, for a couple hours a day.
She frowned, I... Dunno. It’s nice of you to offer, but...
Makes you uncomfortable.
Aliss nodded, unwrapping the final mini muffin and holding it out to her, I’m headed there, next. Just... Think about it? You can come with me, see what it’s like. Could watch me paint. Or disappear into the crowds at any moment, if I’m weirding you out, too much.
Screw it.
Tina sighed and closed her laptop, Not like I’ve got much left to lose.
She took the muffin, eating it slowly as Aliss went to grab a couple things that she needed. The blonde came back with a sports bag slung over one shoulder, and a grey hoodie that was faded from how many times it had been washed.
Apparently the blonde was living at the bakery, upstairs somewhere. Or she had a private art space. Tina wasn’t exactly sure which of the two it was.
They headed down, and got onto the next city loop tram. The thing was as crowded as usual, despite coming every five minutes. It was also loud, with people trying to talk over each other about the business of the day.
Aliss ended up getting an overhead handhold, but Tina didn’t, too many people. So when the tram lurched forward, the blonde instantly caught her by the waist. Not saying anything, even looking out the window and pretending it hadn’t happened.
Tina gave in at the second lurch and stumble, and gratefully held onto the enigmatic artist.
Aliss didn’t seem to mind, and equally didn’t make a big deal of it. All the same, Tina spent the entire time staring at the ground and avoiding looking at the woman at all.
Though, she did have to admit that the blonde was surprisingly solid. Her arms had seemed slightly thin, but now that Tina was cradled in one, the damn thing felt like it was chiselled out of marble. Feeling more like something of an athlete’s, than a dainty girl.
Waitressing had probably left a mark, bussing all those tables.
Being this close, however, did make Tina feel the physical difference between the two of them even more. She knew that Aliss would probably be at least a little self-conscious about it, but the woman was hardly short. She stood at least a couple centimetres above everyone else on the tram.
Whereas, on the other hand, Tina was embarrassingly short. She’d always been shorter than everyone else. Even when she was still growing, she was growing slower than the others. So when she’d stopped growing at a tiny one fifty, that had been a thing of tears. But in private, never public.
She must have been really upset yesterday not to notice that she was two handspans shorter than the artist. Or maybe that was why Aliss had always slumped when she sat down, kicking out her feet. So that nobody realised just how tall she really was.
They arrived outside the museum, it really being only a couple blocks from the train station, and shuffled out with everyone else. As Tina went towards the main entrance, Aliss snagged her wrist, and nodded for her to follow instead.
The woman led her through the garden, to a plain white door with a swipe card locking it. Aliss shuffled with her bag, before producing an ID card and tapping it lazily. She hung the lanyard around her neck, before pushing the door inwards. As she opened it, she waved for Tina to go first, Welcome, to my domain.
The museum give most artists their own access card?
Tina asked in surprise.
Aliss shrugged as they headed in, This way. It’s not unrestricted. But a lot of us like working on stuff at weird hours. They don’t mind, too much. And the night guard are pretty lax about that kind of thing.
As if to demonstrate the point, there was another access door. This time, it was a glass door beside a