A Chance Encounter

This week I combined two prompts.  Trifecta gave us the word tush - as in buttocks - and Write at the Merge gave us a quote about parties from The Great Gatsby.  This is what I came up with.  It's a scene from a short story I started (but haven't finished yet) for this year's NaNo - which I did not win.  But that's okay.  As always concrit is welcome and be sure to check out both sites for some great stories!

            Two days later Nick found himself escorting Rachel to some big party she got invited to for her job.  He didn’t really feel like partying still, but she hadn’t left him much choice.  He was no closer to solving the mystery of the old passkey.  Rachel still wouldn’t leave him alone about it.  And he’d been having weird dreams about trees and open spaces.  At first Nick thought that was just because of the argument he and Rachel had gotten in about the stupid key and his daydreaming after that.  But, the dreams lingered long after any other dream he’d had was forgotten.

Worse yet, once they’d gotten there Rachel decided she needed to hook him up with someone there.  Her catty comments were about to drive him up the wall.

            “What about her?  She has a nice tush at least.”

            “What!  Did you really just use the word tush?”

            “Why?  What’s wrong with tush?”

            “This is the twenty-fifth century, Rachel.  People just don’t use words like that anymore.”

            “Whatever.  I like the word.  Besides, you’re trying to get out of answering my question.  What do you think of her?”

            “Rachel.  She’s like twice my age at least.  And so much of her is fake I’m not sure she’s human anymore.”

            “So now you have a thing against body modification now, too?”

            “Ah.  I prefer a date to be at least mostly real flesh and blood.  Not synth modifications.”

            “You are never going to get laid.”

            With that Rachel stomped off.  At least stomped as much as she could in five inch stiletto heels.  Nick made his way to the balcony overlooking the city.  He stared out past the massive generators and imagined whole forests of trees and wished for the millionth time he could see a real, live tree.

            “Kind of a depressing sight, isn’t it?”
             Nick turned to see a drop dead gorgeous young woman swirling wine in a glass leaning on the balcony rail.