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This Shouldn't
Have Happened
Whitney ducked into a dark, empty room. After sweeping it with light for any wild animals or hidden murderers, she called Maria. She had to call three times, but eventually Maria picked up.
“Can this wait? I’m having sex.”
“Please, I am in real trouble and really need your help.”
“Then you have it. What do you need?”
Maria must have driven 100 mph the whole way there. She made it to the gas station in almost half an hour. After confirming to Whitney that Rebecca’s car was gone, Maria walked back through the woods and into the arms of her waiting friend. They cried and hugged in the empty parking lot until the sad sack behind the counter of the store came out and asked them to move their reunion elsewhere.
Eating fries at the King Kong Restaurant by the exit off the interstate, Whitney recounted her whole day while Maria listened encouragingly and held her hand. As she finished the story, Whitney started crying again. Maria placed a second hand on hers.
“I just remembered that I still don’t know where my truck is.”
“Whatever needs to happen, we can handle it tomorrow.”
Driving home, Maria told Whitney about her night; how she had met someone at a poetry reading, gone to drinks, and then gone to bed. She tried to be conscious of her friend’s bad day, but Whitney was glad to hear a hopeful story. It was a reminder that her difficult breakup with Dillon wasn’t the end of meeting new people. And that was for the best, because Maria was doing a bad job of metering her excitement. The night had gone so well so fast that she was going through half a dozen stages of early enamorment all at the same time. At one point, Maria told Whitney that she felt like she was flying. Whitney looked over to see that Maria was going 95 mph.
As Maria arrived in the city streets of Omaha, Whitney had to beg her to slow down to something even remotely close to the speed limit. And thank goodness she did, because on her way to drop Whitney off, Maria drove right by Whitney’s truck parked on the street two blocks away from Dillon’s new apartment.
Whitney tried to unlock the door, but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t press the button. She tried using the key instead, but all that accomplished was scratching the paint by the handle.
Maria jumped into action. She drove Whitney home and then walked back to pick up the truck. When she returned, Whitney was under a blanket on the couch watching an old DVD of It’s Complicated from the thrift store. Maria took her by the hand and led her to bed. Once Whitney was tucked in, Maria grabbed a pair of Whitney’s sweatpants and a clean t-shirt and then crawled in bed with her.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The End
“Can this wait? I’m having sex.”
“Please, I am in real trouble and really need your help.”
“Then you have it. What do you need?”
Maria must have driven 100 mph the whole way there. She made it to the gas station in almost half an hour. After confirming to Whitney that Rebecca’s car was gone, Maria walked back through the woods and into the arms of her waiting friend. They cried and hugged in the empty parking lot until the sad sack behind the counter of the store came out and asked them to move their reunion elsewhere.
Eating fries at the King Kong Restaurant by the exit off the interstate, Whitney recounted her whole day while Maria listened encouragingly and held her hand. As she finished the story, Whitney started crying again. Maria placed a second hand on hers.
“I just remembered that I still don’t know where my truck is.”
“Whatever needs to happen, we can handle it tomorrow.”
Driving home, Maria told Whitney about her night; how she had met someone at a poetry reading, gone to drinks, and then gone to bed. She tried to be conscious of her friend’s bad day, but Whitney was glad to hear a hopeful story. It was a reminder that her difficult breakup with Dillon wasn’t the end of meeting new people. And that was for the best, because Maria was doing a bad job of metering her excitement. The night had gone so well so fast that she was going through half a dozen stages of early enamorment all at the same time. At one point, Maria told Whitney that she felt like she was flying. Whitney looked over to see that Maria was going 95 mph.
As Maria arrived in the city streets of Omaha, Whitney had to beg her to slow down to something even remotely close to the speed limit. And thank goodness she did, because on her way to drop Whitney off, Maria drove right by Whitney’s truck parked on the street two blocks away from Dillon’s new apartment.
Whitney tried to unlock the door, but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t press the button. She tried using the key instead, but all that accomplished was scratching the paint by the handle.
Maria jumped into action. She drove Whitney home and then walked back to pick up the truck. When she returned, Whitney was under a blanket on the couch watching an old DVD of It’s Complicated from the thrift store. Maria took her by the hand and led her to bed. Once Whitney was tucked in, Maria grabbed a pair of Whitney’s sweatpants and a clean t-shirt and then crawled in bed with her.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The End
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