Drowning

"You've just reached a new high level in Ignoring Me." Lucy picked an unpopped kernel of popcorn out of the bowl on her lap and launched it at the side of Benjamin's head.

Benjamin shrugged and kept his focus on the TV, where a CGI army under his command attacked a mostly abandoned village. The sound of bullets and barely intelligible radio communication drowned out Lucy's sigh.

This romantic funk--going on two months, based on the last time Benjamin and Lucy went out together to somewhere that didn't have a drive-thru--wasn't how Lucy pictured their relationship progressing, but the oddest part was Benjamin himself wouldn't label it as a funk at all. He would say they were settled into a routine typical of any couple who had been dating long-term.

If Lucy knew that, she would treat it as the first of many red flags.

But Lucy didn't know that, like she didn't know Benjamin's internet search history or the subjects of his recently sent text messages, or of his recently received text messages. All things which would raise several more red flags.

No, what Lucy knew was boredom. And brief forays into anger. And the way the light from a video game made her skin look blue, like she was underwater.

---

 
Funk: A perfect word to work with this week, as it sums up where I'm at mentally.
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The Proposal

Chloe and Franklin drive home from dinner when the subject comes up again.

"I can't believe that guy proposed at a restaurant," Chloe says. "People still do that?"

"Some people really like food? Maybe that's where they met. We don't know." Franklin says from the passenger seat.

"And did you see the ring? A diamond. C'mon dude, it's 2039. Diamonds are so quaint."

"This coming from the girl who still drives a hybrid...besides, he did the whole get down on one knee thing, so why not throw in a diamond?" Franklin shrugs. "Call me old-fashioned, but I thought it was sweet."

Chloe looks over to Franklin, then back at the road. "You are old-fashioned. And don't make fun of my car," she pats the dashboard, "I got a really good deal on this gal."

"Maybe that guy got a good deal on the ring."

"I should hope so. It wasn't even that big."

---

 [Envisioning a near future where things are different, but still the same.]

---

THANKS: blankets. coffee. socks. tea. steamy showers. candles. anything that makes me warmer.

Going Paleo

"Everything on my tray is beige," I said, sitting down across from Lou at our table. Two days in and the school lunches were already getting a little desperate.

Lou continued pulling apart split ends with the concentration of a brain surgeon.

"Hey, Cafeteria to Lou." I swatted her hand away from her hair and she looked up at me like I'd kicked a puppy rather than discouraged her bad habit. "Tell me what happened this morning--why were you late to school again? And what are you eating?"

"Kali forgot to send in my lunch money and this was all I could find at home." Lou stirred the murky contents of the plastic container in front of her. "Leftover pea chowder. I think."

"Your mom cooks the weirdest shit." I took the chicken patty out of my sandwich and handed her the bun. "Here, you can have this. I don't need the carbs and you won't eat the meat. Win-win."

"Can I have your applesauce? You don't need the sugar either." Lou glanced down to my waist and back up again.

"Excuse you?" I pushed my tray across the table. "Whatever. We're going to Big Sammy's after school anyways, right?"

"Can't," Lou said through a mouthful of green soup and applesauce.

I handed her my napkin. "Kinkaide Problems?"

"Yep." Lou disregarded the napkin and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. "He showed up this morning going on about some Miles guy. I think he owes someone money. Or he's someone's brother? He owes Kinkaide's brother money? I'm not sure. Anyways, Kinkaide is bringing this Miles character to dinner so I have to go straight home after school. Besides, I'm going Paleo from now on. No more Sammy's." Lou pushed my now empty tray back to me, keeping the cookie from dessert.

I glanced at the cookie and back to Lou.

"What? Starting after lunch. I can't go on a diet mid-meal."

---

 A continuation of Lou's story. Read more here and here.

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THANKS: Neighbor guy at work, who helped me shovel out my work car and who always greets me with "Hello, Beautiful," in a non-creepy way.

Making an Entrance

Lou was seven minutes late to Swank the Tank’s science class on our first day of school. I could hear her asthmatic wheezing from where I sat in the back of the room, but that didn’t stop her from trying to be sneaky. She waved at me and tiptoed towards the seat I saved for her while Mr. Swank continued scribbling his name on the chalkboard like a six foot, 220-pound kindergartner. She was halfway back when his bicep tensed briefly. His hand, still clenching the chalk, hovered over the board as he boomed out Lou’s full name over his shoulder: “Louise Babcock?”

Lou stopped in her tracks, her face flushing. She hated to be called Louise, particularly by figures of authority (and even more particularly by figures of authority with mullets).

“It’s Lou.” She turned around, hands on hips, to face the front of the room.

“Do you have a note?” Mr. Swank turned as well, crossing his arms over his billboard-size chest.

Reaching down to pick up a non-existent skirt, Lou curtsied. "My apologies, I neglected to ask for one. Please forgive me."

“No need for groveling, I’ll just mark this as a demerit.”

Lou put up her hands in surrender: “Whoa, calm down, Father Brown. We started off on the wrong foot. Cut me some slack on the first day. Let’s put this behind us, shall we?”

Mr. Swank considered this for a moment before nodding. “Fair enough. But this is your only warning.”

“Roger that.” Lou saluted Mr. Swank and turned on one foot to join me in the back. “Hey Duke,” she said to me as she slid into her seat.

“Smooth entrance,” I greeted her.

“Louise? Duke?” Mr. Swank asked.

“It’s Lou,” both she and I answered.

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