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kasihyaWrite for at least 5 minutes about a box of chocolates, and a lock.
‘Come on, come on, just a little bit more …’ Matt mutters to himself as he wriggles the bit of wire in the lock. He has exactly forty-eight minutes left before Simon comes back from the gym and discovers that Matt has repurposed several pieces of copper wiring and his second-best pair of needlenose pliers for his own nefarious ends. Nefarious ends that, yes, here should be taken to mean ‘breaking into Karen’s apartment and leaving her Valentine’s Day chocolates’, but as Simon will point out – stick in the mud, Matt thinks, and smiles – the ‘breaking in’ part is still illegal, whatever certain medical procedural shows might tell him.
(‘That is not a doctor’s job, that is what a nurse would do,’ Simon shouted at the television. ‘And a real doctor would know to ask that straight off, not wait until the patient is about to die dramatically, you overpaid bunch of idiots!’
‘Cool it. We know how screwy it is, because you tell us,’ said Karen.
‘Every week,’ Matt added.)
The memory brings a smile to his face, and he breaks his concentration to sit back and savor it for a moment. That had been a good evening; they’d tried to bake a cake from scratch, and it had turned out horribly lopsided, so they’d filled in the gaps with icing and spent the latter part of the evening sick from all of the sugar.
So chocolates may not be the most tactful thing to leave on her kitchen table, but that’s tradition for you. Matt twiddles the bent wire around inside the lock once more, feeling around for the notches in the metal of the door. Forty-six minutes left. He can totally do this, get back to the house, put everything back, and have twenty pages of cat pictures in his browser history before Simon so much as locks up his bike.
‘Hi, what the hell are you doing?’ asks a woman behind him.
Matt whirls around, springs to his feet, and plasters on a winning smile in the same instant, hiding the pliers and wire behind his back. So close. ‘I am, well, it’s funny you should ask that, because a lot of people, upon viewing this scene for the first time, would make the assumption that I am attempting to pick the locks on this door right here.’
The woman – short, stocky, and wearing a hat with a little purple bobble on top, crosses her arms. ‘Yeah, I’d say that looks about right.’
‘But, as a matter of fact, I am actually attempting to deliver a gift!’ Matt ducks down to pick up the pink, heart-shaped box. ‘It just so happened that I, ah, don’t live here, so I needed to use alternative keys.’ He waves the wires at her, careful to keep the needlenose pliers out of sight because Simon would kill him if he lost those to an angry twenty-something.
‘You’re breaking into my apartment to give me chocolate?’ The woman raises her eyebrows. She manages to look quite threatening, despite the bobbly hat. Maybe because of it.
The pieces click into place: Matt remembers Karen telling him about her scary roommate, the one who hasn’t just walked out of an Edith Wharton novel. ‘Oh hi! Sharon? This is uncomfortable. I’m actually here for Karen.’
‘Photo ID.’ She holds out her hand.
Matt starts off questioning it, then decides it’s a valid point – man breaking into woman’s apartment, man pretends to be someone familiar, woman turns up missing. He’d like to personally punch in the face everyone who thinks that is at all a good idea, but suspects that now is not the time to voice his opinions on the subject. Instead, he pulls out his driver’s license and holds it out for inspection. ‘I had a lot less hair then; don’t laugh.’
Sharon squints at it. ‘Where’s the other one? Simon.’
‘Gym. He … doesn’t know I’m here. Of my own initiative.’ He grins and flicks his hair out of his face. ‘So.’
She makes a face. ‘You’re not coming in. Give me the goods, I’ll make sure she gets them when she gets back.’
Matt hesitates. ‘You’re sure that’s a good idea, because I know how tempting chocolate can be, I mean, I even had to buy an extra little box for myself so I wouldn’t eat these on the way over …’
‘I promise.’ She scowls, but Matt detects a whiff of a smile at the corners of her mouth. He decides that he likes her, after all. She’s the good kind of scary, who will come after him and Simon in the middle of the night if one of them breaks Karen’s heart, and not the bad kind of scary, where she’ll destroy the box of chocolates and attempt to break up their relationship, just in case.
‘Thank you.’ He bows to her, surreptitiously pocketing the pliers as he does so, and hovers.
‘You should go now,’ says Sharon. ‘You’ll probably be around later to get Karen, yes or no?’
Matt goes completely blank, because he can plan out romantic evenings at restaurants they can’t afford, and walks in the park to look up at the stars that aren’t blotted out by light pollution, but getting to and from those places is a mystery. That’s why he keeps Simon around (general adorableness and sexual prowess aside), to handle the mundane things. ‘Um. Yes. Probably?’
‘Yes,’ she tells him. ‘She’s been taking taxis everywhere while they ship in the parts for her car or something stupid like that, don’t make the girl do that tonight.’
‘You’re the boss.’ He salutes her. ‘I’ll be leaving now.’
(When he and Simon show up at the apartment later that night to take Karen out to dinner, she throws her arms around his neck and laughs. ‘You are the worst boyfriend ever,’ she says.
‘Does this mean I should leave him on the street before we get to the restaurant?’ asks Simon. Too hopefully, smug little bastard.
‘Oh, yes, I went out of my way to surprise you with chocolates, let’s ditch this terrible person!’ Matt throws up his hands.
‘I meant the picking my locks. The chocolate was sweet, and you are buying me new jeans when I stop fitting into these.’ Karen kisses him and steps back.
‘Oh, you – you – oh,’ says Simon eloquently. ‘You know what? I still love you. Let’s go have dinner.’)
The End
‘Come on, come on, just a little bit more …’ Matt mutters to himself as he wriggles the bit of wire in the lock. He has exactly forty-eight minutes left before Simon comes back from the gym and discovers that Matt has repurposed several pieces of copper wiring and his second-best pair of needlenose pliers for his own nefarious ends. Nefarious ends that, yes, here should be taken to mean ‘breaking into Karen’s apartment and leaving her Valentine’s Day chocolates’, but as Simon will point out – stick in the mud, Matt thinks, and smiles – the ‘breaking in’ part is still illegal, whatever certain medical procedural shows might tell him.
(‘That is not a doctor’s job, that is what a nurse would do,’ Simon shouted at the television. ‘And a real doctor would know to ask that straight off, not wait until the patient is about to die dramatically, you overpaid bunch of idiots!’
‘Cool it. We know how screwy it is, because you tell us,’ said Karen.
‘Every week,’ Matt added.)
The memory brings a smile to his face, and he breaks his concentration to sit back and savor it for a moment. That had been a good evening; they’d tried to bake a cake from scratch, and it had turned out horribly lopsided, so they’d filled in the gaps with icing and spent the latter part of the evening sick from all of the sugar.
So chocolates may not be the most tactful thing to leave on her kitchen table, but that’s tradition for you. Matt twiddles the bent wire around inside the lock once more, feeling around for the notches in the metal of the door. Forty-six minutes left. He can totally do this, get back to the house, put everything back, and have twenty pages of cat pictures in his browser history before Simon so much as locks up his bike.
‘Hi, what the hell are you doing?’ asks a woman behind him.
Matt whirls around, springs to his feet, and plasters on a winning smile in the same instant, hiding the pliers and wire behind his back. So close. ‘I am, well, it’s funny you should ask that, because a lot of people, upon viewing this scene for the first time, would make the assumption that I am attempting to pick the locks on this door right here.’
The woman – short, stocky, and wearing a hat with a little purple bobble on top, crosses her arms. ‘Yeah, I’d say that looks about right.’
‘But, as a matter of fact, I am actually attempting to deliver a gift!’ Matt ducks down to pick up the pink, heart-shaped box. ‘It just so happened that I, ah, don’t live here, so I needed to use alternative keys.’ He waves the wires at her, careful to keep the needlenose pliers out of sight because Simon would kill him if he lost those to an angry twenty-something.
‘You’re breaking into my apartment to give me chocolate?’ The woman raises her eyebrows. She manages to look quite threatening, despite the bobbly hat. Maybe because of it.
The pieces click into place: Matt remembers Karen telling him about her scary roommate, the one who hasn’t just walked out of an Edith Wharton novel. ‘Oh hi! Sharon? This is uncomfortable. I’m actually here for Karen.’
‘Photo ID.’ She holds out her hand.
Matt starts off questioning it, then decides it’s a valid point – man breaking into woman’s apartment, man pretends to be someone familiar, woman turns up missing. He’d like to personally punch in the face everyone who thinks that is at all a good idea, but suspects that now is not the time to voice his opinions on the subject. Instead, he pulls out his driver’s license and holds it out for inspection. ‘I had a lot less hair then; don’t laugh.’
Sharon squints at it. ‘Where’s the other one? Simon.’
‘Gym. He … doesn’t know I’m here. Of my own initiative.’ He grins and flicks his hair out of his face. ‘So.’
She makes a face. ‘You’re not coming in. Give me the goods, I’ll make sure she gets them when she gets back.’
Matt hesitates. ‘You’re sure that’s a good idea, because I know how tempting chocolate can be, I mean, I even had to buy an extra little box for myself so I wouldn’t eat these on the way over …’
‘I promise.’ She scowls, but Matt detects a whiff of a smile at the corners of her mouth. He decides that he likes her, after all. She’s the good kind of scary, who will come after him and Simon in the middle of the night if one of them breaks Karen’s heart, and not the bad kind of scary, where she’ll destroy the box of chocolates and attempt to break up their relationship, just in case.
‘Thank you.’ He bows to her, surreptitiously pocketing the pliers as he does so, and hovers.
‘You should go now,’ says Sharon. ‘You’ll probably be around later to get Karen, yes or no?’
Matt goes completely blank, because he can plan out romantic evenings at restaurants they can’t afford, and walks in the park to look up at the stars that aren’t blotted out by light pollution, but getting to and from those places is a mystery. That’s why he keeps Simon around (general adorableness and sexual prowess aside), to handle the mundane things. ‘Um. Yes. Probably?’
‘Yes,’ she tells him. ‘She’s been taking taxis everywhere while they ship in the parts for her car or something stupid like that, don’t make the girl do that tonight.’
‘You’re the boss.’ He salutes her. ‘I’ll be leaving now.’
(When he and Simon show up at the apartment later that night to take Karen out to dinner, she throws her arms around his neck and laughs. ‘You are the worst boyfriend ever,’ she says.
‘Does this mean I should leave him on the street before we get to the restaurant?’ asks Simon. Too hopefully, smug little bastard.
‘Oh, yes, I went out of my way to surprise you with chocolates, let’s ditch this terrible person!’ Matt throws up his hands.
‘I meant the picking my locks. The chocolate was sweet, and you are buying me new jeans when I stop fitting into these.’ Karen kisses him and steps back.
‘Oh, you – you – oh,’ says Simon eloquently. ‘You know what? I still love you. Let’s go have dinner.’)
The End
