A Sweeter Side of Mr. VP

"I am vice president. In this I am nothing, but I may be everything." --John Adams

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Roselle stared at Lily, unsure of what to say. What could she say? She wasn't sure if Dylan wanted her to tell anyone about them yet. They weren't exactly at that level.

"Answer the question," Lily said.

"Well, we aren't exactly boyfriend or girlfriend or anything," Roselle said. "Honestly, we're just hanging out."

"Hanging out as in hanging out? Or hanging out as in 'hanging out'?"

She exhaled, exasperated. It was clear she wasn't going to let this go. "We went on a date earlier this evening."

"Oh." Lily narrowed her eyes, but she smiled. Her teeth were gritting and it was clear she was angry and going to great lengths in an attempt to fake it.

"Why do you even care?" Roselle asked, putting her hand on her hip, finding her attitude all of a sudden. "Aren't you engaged to Mr. President Boy?"

She shrugged. "I was just concerned. You know, I dated Dylan for a while. I dumped him, but he begged me to stay. I had to move on though. He's still got a thing for me. Just thought you should know."

"Well I guess he just needs a girl that's a little more loyal then."

Before Lily could retaliate, Armani came back stage and put his hand on Lily's shoulder. "Hey, I see you two are getting along well," he said, oblivious as to what was really going on.

Lily smirked. "Yeah. Great. We were just talking about how Ro-Ro here was getting cozy with the prime minister of Canada."

Armani stared blankly at Roselle for a second. "You mean . . . that was true?"

"Yeah . . ." Roselle said, darting her eyes around. "Kinda."

She expected him to show the same pettiness as Lily, but instead, Armani's smile was pure and friendly. "I'm happy you found someone for yourself." He turned to Lily. "Come on, let's get you back home."

"Yeah," Lily said. She glanced at Roselle. "It was so nice meeting you again. Maybe we could all double date soon." The presidential couple walked off.

Roselle sat in a chair replaying what had just happened. He . . . he really didn't care at all?

"Hey," Eliot said, walking up. "Uhh, thanks again for coming out Rosa--I mean--Rosie--I mean . . . Okay I know it starts with R-O--"

"Yeah, okay. I get it. You're welcome. Can you please just take me back to my hotel room now?"

"Jeez, what's up with you?" He laughed. "Aunt Flo came into town?"

"SHUT UP!"

Everyone around them paused for a moment, and Eliot's smirk was smacked right off his face. The way his eyes were widened, he actually looked . . . petrified?

"Sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know girls are sensitive about that kind of stuff. I was only kidding."

"Yeah? Well it wasn't funny. I'm allowed to be upset and sad without being accused of being on my period."

He blinked. "Oh . . . Are you sad? Why?"

She groaned. "You know what? Never mind. An insensitive jerk like you wouldn't understand. Just get me out of here."

* * *

Roselle and Eliot walked out to the parking lot. He unlocked his bicycle chain and put on his helmet. "Are you ready to go?"

She was staring at something--a giant stick building in the distance. She always saw that building on TV and in movies, but what was it? It was already dark outside, yet it glowed up the night sky next to the stars.

"Uh . . . What are you doing?" asked Eliot.

"What's that giant white stick?"

He chuckled. "That's what she said."

Roselle glared at him.

He gulped. "That's the Washington Monument. It's a pretty popular tourist spot around here."

"Can you take me there? I wanna go inside."

"Gee, I'd love too, but it's pretty far away. By the time we got there it would be closed. You should go there tomorrow with your sister or something."

She pouted. "That's true but . . ." she glanced at it again. "I'm not ready to go home yet. I want to get a few things off my mind." She turned back to him. "Are there any other pretty tourist spots in D.C. that are open this time? Preferably one with pretty lights and colors?"

He scoffed. "Yeah, the casinos. I've been itching to play some poker. You down?"

"Uh, that's not exactly what I had in mind. Never mind. I shouldn't have asked you."

"Well . . . I do know this one other thing."

"You better not suggest something stupid again."

"It's not. I think you'd really like it. I've used it to get laid a bunch of times."

She raised a brow at him.

"I mean, those times were those times. I'm not trying to do that now. If I was, I wouldn't even tell you about it."

She sighed. "Okay then. I guess I'll come along. No funny business though. Got it?"

"Got it. Let me just call my guy and see if he's available."

* * *

Roselle and Eliot were waiting outside the building for about ten minutes. Eventually, a limousine came by and picked them up. They drove for half an hour, and in due course were brought to a building that was a tad remote from the rest of the capital.

"What is this place?" Roselle asked, feeling nervous and suspicious.

"Why don't you find out?" asked Eliot, who popped out of the car.

She sighed and got out of the limo too.

The limo driver escorted them inside. They got in an elevator to which he pressed the button to go on the top floor. It was just the three of them, and awkwardness was prevalent. What on earth was this place? Should she run? Should she escape?

Ding. The Elevator opened, and they were on the roof. It was dark.

"What are we doing here?" Roselle asked.

"Come outside," Eliot said.

"No! Tell me where I am right now!"

He turned to the limo driver. "Lights."

The limo driver nodded and flipped a switch. Lightbulbs in the shapes of multi-colored stars shined, and a walkway was illuminated. Down the walkway was a helicopter.

"Oh my God," Roselle said, widening her mouth.

"Surprise," Eliot said, smirking. He and the limo driver walked down the hallway, but Roselle stood still in the elevator. He turned to her. "You coming, or what?"

"I've never been on a helicopter before. I . . . I . . ."

"Kay. You can just stand there and watch me take off then. And no, you can't ride afterwards. This is a one time deal." He turned back and continued strolling down to the flying machine.

She only had a split second to make up her mind. "Wait up, you jerk!" she said, catching up to him.

Eliot and Roselle both got in the backseat of the helicopter and buckled in their seatbelts. The guy that drove the limo actually so happened to be a pilot, and he turned on the radio to give communications to whoever.

Roselle was looking out the window in anticipation, trembling.

Eliot spotted her. "First time flying?"

"I was on a plane to D.C. before, but this is different." A thought occurred to her. "We're not going to parachute or anything, are we?"

"HAHA!" He roared with laughter. "Maybe next time."

The helicopter took off into the air. Roselle let out a yelp, but Eliot put his hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes as if to say it would all be okay. They took off gradually, then the next thing she knew, they were among the stars touring Washington D.C.

"Woah . . ." Roselle said, staring out the window. "The city is breathtaking up here. I can see all the city lights. I can see so much color. I've seen it on TV before, but in person it's a whole other thing." She laughed. "This is amazing!"

"You said you wanted to see the Washington Monument, right? You can always tour it inside, but you get the best view from above."

The helicopter flew to the Washington monument, spinning in circles around it.

"Oh my gosh!" Roselle cried. "It's beautiful! Look at the water! The water is glowing too! It looks like a fairytale!"

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

They spent more time flying around the capital, viewing all the tourist spots from the sky. No matter how long they were up there, Roselle never grew tired of the scenery. She smiled all throughout.

She put her hands inside her pocket and realized the cookie Eliot gave her earlier was still in there, but it was squashed. She pulled it out. "I guess I'll eat this now," she said.

"Go for it."

She bit into that cookie, and it was literally the most delicious dessert she ever tasted. That soft, sweet, crumble. The melted chocolate. The tenderness. "This is so good," she said. "Your grandma is really good at baking."

He blushed and turned away. "Uh, yeah."

Wait a minute, did she taste cinnamon? Didn't she recall Eliot smelling of cinnamon when she held him on the bike ride?

Roselle widened her eyes. "Your Grandma didn't bake this, did she? You did."