Socially Interesting Malfunctionings

First Installment: Man Voice and the Water Heater
Previous Installment: The Zero-eth Date

My sleep schedule can’t be a very healthy one, thought Lia, especially considering the fact that I don’t get any sleep. Those were her last thoughts as she slipped into the cozy warmness of the blanket, and a loud voice shouted, “I’m not a witch, I’m your wife!” in the back of her mind.

Although she was no longer conscious of this fact, Lia was lying on a couch in a boy’s apartment. It had been a long week. Finals were next week, and all of the big papers and projects were coming to be due. She had only been able to catch a grand total of nine hours of sleep over that past three days. It was becoming a bit of a health hazard since she was in danger of falling asleep every time she sat down.

Finding it impossible to focus on writing her paper, Lia had walked down over to apartment 9. Brandon opened the door. He looked rather disappointed with her physical appearance, and the fact that her stomach was growling loudly. Oops. She had forgotten to eat again too. Brandon thought that was a very horrible habit of hers. She needed to eat more. He pulled her inside and sat her down on the couch and covered her with Joey’s school blanket (Warm!). He warmed up some leftover pasta for her (Pasta!) and made her sit and eat while watching The Princess Bride (INCONCEIVABLE!). It was the only girl-approved movie in his collection. Brandon is the nicest person in this whole apartment building!

Lia was finding that sleep was sneaking up on her. Her old, neglected friend sleep. She missed him. She missed sleep like she would miss warm water for showers. Man Voice….she thought. Lia hadn’t thought of him in quite some time. She heard Brandon’s voice talking, saying something. I don’t think he’s Man Voice. He doesn’t sound the same. A door opened somewhere, then closed. Lia stopped paying attention to the noises. Sleep is good. Beauty sleep is important. What if I meet Man Voice and I look like a sleep deprived, book obsessed girl? Sleep. Sleep is good.

Sleep came.

The doorknob was jiggling. Lia stirred on the couch. Why was someone trying to get into her apartment? She ignored the sound and cuddled further into the blue and gold blanket. It was warm in here.

The door opened. She groggily looked up to see Joey confusedly looking back at her. Why was he confused?

“What are you doing in here?” she mumbled out.

“What am I doing here? I live here! What are you doing here?” Joey was still standing in the open doorway, right next to the couch where she was all curled up and comfy in his favored fuzzy school blanket, staring at her.

Lia was more awake, more confused, and more self-conscious by this point. What if she had mascara smudged across her face? “Oh. You do?”

“Yes, actually, I do.”

Trying hard to think of something to say, Lia started surveying the room, taking in her surroundings. “Oh, hmm, I guess you do. It certainly looks like your apartment.”

“Indeed. It doesn’t look very different from when I left this morning.”

“Anything out of place?”

“Just a girl sleeping on my couch while none of my roommates are home and the door is locked.”

“That is out of place.” More looking around. Then looking up at Joey to ask ,“How did I get here?”

“That I couldn’t tell you, Lia,” said Joey with a crooked expression on his face.

That’s kind of a cute facial display. It was as if he couldn’t decide whether to be amused or confused.  “At least they rhyme.”

“What?” Now it was just confusion.

“Oh. Amused and confused. Don’t worry about it.”

++++

Lia had never made it any secret that she couldn’t do squat with technology, or that she was like kryptonite to electronics. It wasn’t her fault. It just happened. A lot. Her laptop was one such victim. Though with the way Lia was banging her head on the keyboard in frustration, who knew whether Lia or the laptop was feeling more victimized at the moment. Lia felt that she had a pretty solid case on her side, however, with plenty of evidence against the laptop. Exhibit A, the computer kept freezing and wouldn’t open Microsoft Word. How the Dickens was she supposed to write her papers if she couldn’t open Word? What in Wordsworth’s name was the worth of a computer if it didn’t have Word? Exhibit B, the freezing became even worse when Lia tried to open the internet browser to do some research for her papers. As the laptop of an English major, this kind of insubordination was intolerable, nigh unto high treason!

Feeling a slight headache coming on, Lia decided to take a break from harassing and being harassed by the evil laptop. Yes, enough of this nonsense for now. Lia would just go over to apartment 9 for a little breather. Her boys could always make her feel better. After that catastrophic date, Amber had lessened her interest in Joey, and decreased her visits to both Lia and Joey. Lia, however, had increased her attendance at the boys’ place because if its happy, drama-free atmosphere and occupants. The boys, led by Brandon, and Lia had rather adopted each other to the mutual satisfaction of all.

Things were normal at the boys’ place when she arrived over there a few minutes later. Ricky was doing his homework on the couch, probably something mathy or sciencey. Joey was working away on his trusty old laptop at the table, ever the responsible engineering student. Brandon bellowed a greeting from the kitchen and Lia responded while looking around. The boys had a very nice set up of television, sound system, and gaming devices right next to her. She pulled a face and took a large sidestep to the left, away from that expensive pile of technology.

That same step brought her closer to Joey. “Hello, Joey,” she said. “How goes the homework?”

“No, I need a break,” Joey responded as he snapped his fully functioning laptop closed. “That neutron flux simulation for my nuclear class is killing me.” He rubbed his eyes.

Brandon came in from the kitchen. “Kinda makes ya just wanna fix something, huh?”

Joey agreed, “It’s nice to do something not for a class.”

Brandon gave Lia a snack. Brandon always fed Lia. She didn’t mind. He made excellent food. Especially these chicken plop things. Culinary brilliance. As she munched on her food, Brandon asked, “And how are things going for ya, Lia?”

Lia lowered her head to inspect the small edible specimen on her plate. She was trying to figure out what was in it it to make it so scrumptious. “Oh, I’ve been trying to work on my papers, but can’t because my computer keeps freezing.”

“Did that just start today?” asked Joey.

Head still down, Lia said, “No, it’s been deteriorating in speed and usability over the past two weeks.”

“Lia!” Brandon shouted incredulously.

She lifted her head to see Brandon, Joey, and Ricky all staring at her in disbelief. “What?” she demanded defensively.

“Young lady, you do realize that all of us are computer whizzes, don’t you?” Brandon asked.

Lia looked around at the boys. Ricky and Micah were both in computer science majors. Joey was in mechanical engineering, and Brandon was enrolled in the same major for when he started school again after a break. Lia looked then at the stack of entertainment equipment she had dodged earlier, and acknowledged its complexity.

“Why yes, I suppose you are,” Lia conceded.

“Why didn’t you ask us for help?” Ricky asked. “Didn’t think we could do it?”

“People ask us to fix stuff for them all the time,” added Joey. “Just a few days ago we fixed some old VCR for the girls down the hall.”

“I know you did. I remember,” Lia said.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Brandon demanded.

“Honestly, it didn’t occur to me,” Lia admitted. She decided by the looks on their faces that she would not share the fact that even if that option had occurred to her, she still might not have asked. Lia really didn’t like inconveniencing or bothering other people, so much so that a problem which could have been solved easily with some help could escalate into something harder to handle.

Joey stood and said, “Up. Come on.”

“Where are we going?” inquired Lia as she rose to join him.

“To your place to see what we can do about that computer.”

And with that she was frog-marched back down the hall to her apartment. Lia wondered about the boys’ reaction to her suffering in silence. She figured that she must have struck some kind of primal man need to fix things to prove manliness, worth, and capability to provide for a cave-full of children. She should tread carefully to not further incite this strange offended behavior any more than she had already done. No further aggravation needed.

As they entered her place, Joey asked, “Where is the computer?”

They sat on the couch Lia had vacated not that long ago, and she handed him her ornery laptop. He began poking around and calling up little black windows with fat blinking cursors, in which he then typed some kind of foreign language. More screens with the same strange hieroglyphics appeared in response. Lia was glad that the symbols meant something to Joey. Maybe it hearkened back to those early days of cave painting. Maybe she couldn’t comprehend what those symbols meant because she had no lurking cavemen deep within the confines of her soul.

Lia gave Joey a look out of the corner of her eye. It was a bit of a stretch imagining him having any caveman tendencies or roots. Except for that time he had frantically shoved a paper in her face, she had never seen him out of control. And while, yes, that was a rather caveman like thing to do, shoving and grunting and all, he was generally well read and well spoken. She liked speaking with him because he was excellent in the witty banter category. He could make it in the Olympics if the higher-ups would bother making a proper sport of it.

And not only was he smart in his ability to learn and converse, he was also smart in his appearance and manners. Lia had never seen Joey without a collared shirt, which was usually a nice button-up, and she honestly doubted whether he owned any t-shirts. With his gentlemanly manners, he never failed to open a door for a girl. No, Joey wasn’t very Neanderthalish in his tendencies. So what was it about technology that brought out this deeper side of him?

Lia realized that while she had carried out her analysis, Joey had been narrating what he was doing and why. She blinked. “Wait, you’re doing what?”

“Your computer needs defragmenting,” Joey repeated.

“I didn’t realize that it was in fragments. Silly me.”

Joey smiled at her and began to explain, “When there are lots of files that are constantly accessed--”

A knock on the door interrupted the computer lesson. It was Lia’s friend Andrea, come bearing gifts in the form of miniature banana cream pies. After a quick chat with Andrea, Lia was on the couch again by Joey, and the two munched happily on the tasty bite-sized morsels.

As the computer was “defragging,” Lia insisted on showing Joey some golden YouTube videos that she knew would make him laugh. While a longer video was playing, Lia felt her body beginning to shut down for the evening. Her mind was wandering as Joey explained the different technical steps he was undertaking with her enemy, erm, nemesis, erm, laptop. Her eyes drooped. Her muscles relaxed. She wondered what time it was. Though she had been doing better lately at getting some sleep, Lia was still prone to nodding off when she was in a comfortable position.

Joey’s voice was suddenly a bit deeper, and her right side was a bit warmer. Lia wondered why these things were so, but then became focused on the happy fact that she had stopped drooping further down. She definitely didn’t want to squash the remaining pies.

Squash. Squash and pie don’t belong together, Lia mused. Unless pumpkins were actually considered a member of the Squash Collectorate. If that were the case, the squash and pie definitely did belong together. In fact, they should be married. But wait. Were any other squash acceptable pie associates? Sweet potato pie was orange, like pumpkin pie. But sweet potatoes could hardly be a part of the Squash Collectorate since they had potatoes as part of the name. But maybe-

“So, did you fix the problem?” came Brandon’s booming voice through Lia’s reverie.

She gasped and sat up straight. “The pies!” she cried. “Potato or not, they deserve life!”

Brandon was giving Joey and Lia a strange look, and for some reason he had stopped short on his way into the apartment. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Getting cozy, were we?”

Lia searched about for the plate of remaining mini-pies while touching her face and hair. “Oh no! Did I snuggle with the poor little pies? Are their innards all over me?” She turned to Joey for an answer, but he was just looking at her. She could tell he was trying to assess something, and she was rather certain it was herself. “What? For a pie, being snuggled to death is a pretty ignominious way to go, don’t you think?”

Joey put his hand on Lia’s arm and said, “Calm down. No pies were slaughtered except the ones we ate before you nodded off.”

Lia furrowed her brow. “Did I fall asleep? I thought I had just zoned out a minute.”

Joey and Brandon both stared at her. Joey stood up. He was still wearing that same expression, like he was attempting to solve a complicated problem, or putting a puzzle together. He said, “Your computer is working now, but you should probably go to bed.”

“Thank you for your help, Joseph. You’re splendid,” Lia said sincerely.

The boys let themselves out. Lia tried to pull herself back together. After struggling in vain for a few moments, she gave up and decided that Joseph was right. She should just go to bed. She got up from the couch, pondering. Why had the boys looked confused? While not an uncommon sensation to experience when they were together, Lia thought this one felt different. Oh well. She must have said something truly bizarre while waking up.

Lia climbed upstairs to her room. Ally was out, so it was just her and her thoughts. Maybe she had drooled, but they were too nice to say anything. Or maybe- she paused. Maybe she had fallen against Joseph’s shoulder. That would explain the warmth, and his voice being so close. And that would also make for potential awkwardness the next time she saw him. This could create problems.

She sighed while jumping inelegantly into bed. She couldn’t do anything about it now. Oh well. He had brown eyes, but he had rather nice resting shoulders. If she had cared for a crush or a boyfriend, that may have been a point in his favor. But she didn’t want a crush, and she definitely didn’t want a boyfriend. After that last dating fiasco, she was content being single for a while. No, all she wanted was sleep, finals to be over, and to go home.

Besides. His eyes were brown.

The Zero-eth Date

First installment: Man Voice and the Water Heater
Previous installment: Wordsworth's First Name Is Not Joey

“Good grief!” shouted Lia. Those boys needed to open that door right now. This moment. Last moment. Two moments ago.

This is one of the most awkward moments of my life, Lia thought as the two girls stood in front of the door to the boys’ apartment. Amber was glaring a little bit. It’s not like I’m going out with HER man. But gee whiz, I sure wish they’d open the door now.

It had been a long walk down the hall to even get to this door. Amber had come over to show Lia her outfit, and ask if she looked alright. This was the long awaited, the anxiously awaited, the overly awaited, the loudly awaited date. It was finally here. Lia looked at Amber’s cute dark curls, striped shirt, and pink jacket and gave her seal of approval. Amber did have some pretty dark eyes, and freckles on her nose. Yes, Joey should be rather pleased with this.

Amber smiled at Lia’s compliments. Life was good for a moment. All tension between the girls was gone, forgotten in favor of the happy present. But from there, things grew rather strained rather quickly. Lia did not go back into her apartment when Amber moved to leave. Lia stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind her.

“Are you going somewhere?” Amber asked.

“Oh, just strolling down the hall a bit,” Lia said in a rather noncommittal way.

As the two continued further down the hall towards the boys’ side, Amber began to assess Lia out of the corner of her eye. Lia could feel the assessment happening, and wished she looked less nice. She had stuck with a simple outfit of her dark goddess jeans and a plain long sleeved white shirt with a pink cami underneath. She hadn’t done anything spectacular with her hair. In fact, she had done hardly anything at all with it. Lia hoped that Amber would notice that her own curled hair was much classier than Lia’s untouched locks.

“How far are you going, exactly?” Amber inquired with suspicion, if not in her voice, then very much in her face, posture, and the air surrounding her.

“Just far enough to meet my friend for lunch.”

“And who are you meeting for lunch?”

Lia had no time to think of an elusive reply. Just then Brandon walked into the apartment complex through the door on the right and said over his shoulder, “Hey, Lia, I’ll see you in a bit,” before continuing out the door on the left.

Now that former tension levels between the two girls had been fully restored, Lia realized that maybe this lunch was going to be even longer than she had previously envisioned. Amber and Lia reached apartment 9 and knocked. There the tension mounted with increasing force until it became practically palpable.

Lia didn’t get what the big deal was. If anything, Amber should be grateful! Lia was the reason Amber was going on this date today. She had bothered Joey into action, and Lia was sick of Joey, and Brandon, and this whole thing, and if those boys didn’t open this door right now they were going to find some molasses all over---

Joey opened the door. He took a small step back- it must have been the great waves of simmering unrest that went crashing into to him- before he opened the door wider to allow the girls entrance. “Hello, Amber. How are you today?” Joey was always very gentlemanly.

“Good.” It was a short, clipped response.

“Oh... Good,” Joey  said slowly, sounding unsure. He turned to Lia. “And you, Lia?”

Joey had made a mistake. At his recognition of Lia’s existence, Amber glared like mad. All of that socio-hormonal tension that Lia had been desperately pushing away came careening into the room. It came in strong and fast, as if it were riding on the backs of the wildebeests that stampeded Mufasa to his death. Lia was beginning to feel like Mufasa’s fate might be her own. She desperately hoped they were taking different cars.

++++

They were not taking different cars. The hoping had been in vain. Brandon had come back to the apartment to meet the others, and, completely oblivious to the chaotic state of social politics, happily ushered the little group out to the street where Joey’s car was parked. Joey and his date were to sit in front, with the other two in back.

Lia noticed that the car was old, but very stately in its large size and gray-blue color. It was a gentleman’s conveyance, she decided as they rode along. The ride was smooth, with a skillful driver who managed to make even sharp turns feel like the gentle yet suave bounce of a boat on the swell. Lia was glad to note that she was not actually out on a lake in a boat at this time. It didn’t look very warm out on this December day.

Joey was making some sort of conversation with Amber up front. Lia and Brandon didn’t talk much. Lia was disgruntled, though not upset, with Brandon for putting her in this situation, and peeved at Joey for speaking to her earlier when it was obvious that Amber wanted his eyes solely on herself. It was a short ride to the sandwich shop, though, and Lia was glad to get out of the car. Even the stately Buick was beginning to feel confining.

The little restaurant itself was a nice place. It had an old time kind of feel, with warm colors on the walls and Beatles posters, and a variety of table setups around the dining area. After ordering, the group sat around the table sipping their drinks. And staring in opposite directions. And sipping their drinks some more.

Lia felt that she had the best seat. The table was next to the window, which meant it was colder, but it afforded Lia with a lovely view of Main Street. Instead of sitting across from her date, she had wound up next to him, and across from Joey and the window. Whenever things got a little too strained to look at another person, and looking at her straw just wasn’t entertaining anymore, Lia just gazed past Joey’s head.

Brandon seemed to have been broken somehow between his congenial greeting in the hallway and lunch. He was certainly lacking his regular jolly and exuberant air. Lia missed his plump little Italian ways. Especially his ability to just talk no matter what the conversation may be canvassing. Right now there was a definite lack of conversation. All attempts were brutally shut down with monosyllabic returns.

“So do you like the snow, Amber?,” Joey struggled on, in what was turning out to be more of a filibuster than a conversation.

“Yes.”  Another curt reply from Amber.

And not for lack of effort on his part, either. “I didn’t grow up with it, so it it’s a new thing to me.  What do you like about it?”

She chewed her sandwich.

Poor Joey, thought Lia. I go over and harass him into this date, and then Amber won’t even talk to him. She’s just poking at her food.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I happen to find this sandwich an absolutely delightful experience for my taste buds,” said Lia. “The slightly spicy mustard and the subdued flavor of the provolone work in sync to create a pleasant harmony.”

“Harmony of food?” asked Joey, an eyebrow raised.

“If pressed, I would tell you that the cheese and mustard are harmonized in thirds.”

“And what richness might the meat be adding to this edible chord?” returned Joey.

“I would have to ask my sister. She’s the one that knows everything about music theory.”

“You’re not educated in theory?”

“The kind of theory I study would tell you that the author is dead, that words denote what the object is not, and that Freud is seriously frightening.”

“I beg your pardon. I will rephrase. You are not a theorist of music?”

“My theory of music is this: Music is good.”

“Just good? You study words and complex sentences, and all you can give me is ‘music is good’?” Joey inclined his head towards her, encouraging her to answer.

Amber’s eyes were flicking back and forth from Lia to Joey. Oh snapdragons!, thought Lia. Don’t get jealous. I’m having a conversation, but I’m no threat. And to prove that silent point, Lia stuffed a huge bite of sandwich into her mouth, chewing somewhat ferociously. Joey sat back, looking amused at Lia’s sudden enthusiasm for eating her food instead of having conversation about it. He then looked to his right at Amber.

“Do you enjoy music, Amber?” Joey asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you play an instrument?”

“No.”

Silence. The sound of chewing. Lia started to think of “Sound of Silence” by Simon and Garfunkel. Who would have thought that the sound of silence would be the sound of teeth working through fat sandwiches of juicy meat, creamy sauces, and crisp lettuce? And who would have thought that such a traumatic event would have inspired such a mellow song?

“What genre do you prefer?” Joey pressed on.

Silence.

Lia took pity. “Classics. British Romanticism. Jane Austen.”

The whole table looked at her. “I just thought that since the music conversation wasn’t working for anyone, we might consider branching out to books.”

Next Installment: Socially Interesting Malfunctionings

Wordworth's First Name Is Not Joey

First installment: Man Voice and the Water Heater
Previous installment: An Unsuccessful Escape

William Wordsworth’s poem “London, 1802” makes a strong statement about Joey the Romantic poet’s opinion on the state of England during this time period of rescheduled dates. He saw problems with cancelling dates that deeply disturbed his elevated spirit. In addition to sticking closely to the natural description that helps Romantic poetry resonate with Romantic sense and make a romantic mood, Wordsworth employs metonymy and overstatement to address the issues that he sees in England. Issues like not getting a date.

Wordsworth couldn’t get a date? Oh. That wasn’t Wordsworth. Lia shook her head, and turned to Amber, who was sitting on the couch next to her, talking about her dating problems.

“It’s just that Joey might think that I’m not interested in him, and I really am!” Amber continued on. “I didn’t want to cancel those two dates. Work called, and I had to go in. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You told Joey that, didn’t you?” Lia asked while looking at the paragraph she had just typed into her laptop. How on earth had Joey and dating wound up in the introduction for her Romantic poetry close reading paper?

“Of course I did. But it’s happened twice.”

“And you explained both times, yes?” Lia asked, slouching down and extending her neck to reach towards her laptop. That paragraph was utter nonsense. She shuddered a little, and looked back and forth from that nonsense and the textbook at her side. Nope. No more of that poem and paper for now.

“But it looks like I’m brushing him off,” Amber worried.

Lia dug about in the stack of books on the floor and retrieved another thick volume, tossing the Romantic English literature anthology she’d been using onto the coffee table. “Young Goodman Brown” seemed like a good reversal to get her mind working in a different way. She’d write that paper instead.

“And I’m not brushing him off. I have to work,” Amber went on.

“If you told him that, then he knows that,” Lia said while flipping open her American literature book to the section on Nathaniel Hawthorne. He was an interesting writer.

“But what if he thinks I’m lying?”

Lia propped the book on her lap, and poised her fingers for typing before answering, “He’s a guy. Guys tend not to overthink things like we do. He probably believes you.”

Lia started her paper while Amber carried on about her concerns.

No one is sinless in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s short story “Young Goodman Brown” about Joey when a thematic climax reveals that the episteme of the dating scene in this apartment complex is not true to the expectations of the woman to my right.

Shoulders drooped, Lia stopped typing again. Maybe this paper wasn’t going to work either. She decided to try the Wordsworth essay again. These were both due tomorrow, and she didn’t have a lot of time to waste. So with Amber still talking, Lia pulled up the document containing her other work in progress. She started typing away, hoping to get some ideas out that she could then form into a coherent paper.

The chance to go on a date with Joey has been corrupted by the gentility’s love of money and the luxuries obtainable by marrying a rich engineer and the power that comes with that money despite the morals and teachings that go against such luxuries. Noblesse oblige seems to be going out of the picture, which is why Joey hasn’t tried to reschedule for the third time. These metonymical examples describe which area of England’s man pool needs improvement, and it seems that to Wordsworth, the damage is widespread. rgrgvloireabn[0vtjhovrnuave;onivahnijavegn;’

Lia slammed her hands down onto the keyboard a few more times to vent her rage. Wordsworth had never written about the man pool or Joey or any other such nonsense! How was she supposed to write her papers with Amber constantly inserting her love woes into her paragraphs about metonymy and episteme?

She turned her head so quickly towards Amber she could hear some bones cracking and her hair hit her the face. She forced a smile onto her face as she placed her laptop onto the coffee table. “Amber. I am very busy. I have papers to write. They’re due tomorrow.”

“I just don’t know what to do about Joey!” Amber lamented.

“Oh, I do,” Lia said determinedly as she rose. “I know exactly what to do. You stay here. I’ll be right back.”

And with that admonition, Lia swooshed out of her apartment and down the hall towards apartment 9. Joey had better be home. Joey had better open the door. Joey had better know what’s good for him. Lia felt that her face didn’t have its usual charming smile, but she was too peeved to worry about that right now. Joey was going to answer for those horrid paragraphs she had typed under duress. This was all his fault!

Apartment 9’s door was before her. She knocked quickly and loudly. A knock that demanded immediate attention. The door was barely opened by Micah before she pushed through the small crack and scanned the room with her eyes.

Joey was sitting on the couch, doing his homework in peace. How dare he?

“YOU! Joey. Pay attention to me,” Lia commanded.

Joey looked up, startled. This was not how Lia generally acted. “Yes?”he asked.

Lia moved to stand right in front of Joey. Since he was seated, she was taller than him for once. Possibly she was even looming over him. That made her feel better already. But she wasn’t done yet. She jabbed a finger so close to him it was almost poking his chest, and said, “You are going to take Amber on a date. You are going to ask her out and take her out. Is that understood?”

Joey blinked.

“I asked, is that UNDERSTOOD?” Lia said in her best nanny drill sergeant voice.

“Yes. Understood. I was planning on it,” Joey assured her.

“Thank you for your time. Carry on with your duties,” Lia said to the two boys. “Micah, the door.”

The door was opened, and a much happier Lia left apartment 9. Her troubles had just decreased dramatically, and she was tickled pink about it all.  Gaily skipping down the hall, she thought about her Wordsworth paper and what she would actually write about without Joey interrupting. She entered her apartment and, smiling grandly, sat down by Amber.

“Amber,” she said, “you don’t have to worry about a thing. Joey will ask you out again.”

Amber smiled and made a girly noise of delight. Lia felt proud that she had done the right thing. Amber was happy and satisfied, and now Lia could be happy and satisfied and intelligent while writing her papers.

Only not exactly, because only a minute later, something truly horrid happened.

...In addition to overstating the problems in England, Wordsworth overpraises Milton’s great accomplishments as a writer and influence on the people. According to Wordsworth, Milton put his own heart under the “lowliest duties” because he was so humble and good. Together the overstatements show that England is a dastardly place that needs an angel like Joey to light a path of redeeming dates for Amber before too long.

“GAH!” Lia shouted. Was this woman never sated? Why couldn’t she stop talking about Joey for five minutes. “Amber, Joey said he was going to ask you out, so what are you worried about now?”

“When will he do it? What if he asks and I have to work again?”

“Give me three minutes,” Lia said gruffly, shoving books and laptop aside and rushing out the door. She practically ran down the hall, the dignified march she had assumed during her last trip a thing of the far distant past. She reached apartment nine, gave half a knock, and burst into the place. Micah and Joey looked up in surprise as Lia came right up to Joey, who was still on the couch, leaned in, and glared at him. A burning, ferocious glare. A frightening glare. A glare only capable by the thwarted English major with papers to be written and a deadline breathing down her neck.

“When.” It came out as a statement. Or a threat.

Joey blinked some more. “When what?”

“When are you going to ask her. When will the date be. Tell me. Now.”

“We were thinking a lunch date for Saturday. We were waiting for Brandon to find a date so we could make it a double.”

Lia leaned back, and looked down her nose at the brunet man on the couch. “Thank you for your cooperation. Make sure that Brandon gets a date soon. Soon, do you hear?”

“I think he has someone in mind.”

“I’ll count on that then,” Lia said while walking to the door. Before she closed the door behind her, she turned and said, “It had better be soon.” And with that, she closed the door and walked grumpily back to her place.

Amber was still sitting in the same place when Lia came back in. Instead of taking her former seat beside Amber, Lia took the other girl by the arm and pulled her to standing, and then brought her towards the door.

“Amber, you’re a wonderful friend, but I have two papers to write and no time in which to accomplish that feat. Joey is going to ask you out soon for a Saturday lunch date. He was waiting on Brandon to find a date so that they could make it a double date. That’s why he hasn’t asked yet,” Lia explained shortly. They were now by the door. She opened it for Amber to leave.

Instead, Amber turned to her and said, “I hope that Brandon doesn’t find a date.”

Lia made a noise halfway between a strangled goat and a dehydrated llama. She retook possession of Amber’s arm and pulled her out of the apartment, and started leading her down to Amber’s place. “Brandon is a nice guy,” she said in an attempt to make the situation seem less hostile.

“Yeah, but I want it to be just me and Joey,” Amber said. “Without Brandon and another girl.”

“Well, that will be up to Brandon and the other girl,” Lia said. She left Amber at the girl’s door, and turned around, making it quickly down the hall and almost back home when she heard her name being called. “WHAT do you want?” she demanded while turning, expecting to see Amber following her.

Only Amber didn’t have a deep, booming bass voice, and didn’t look like an Italian chef or mafia member, and she definitely wasn’t a man. No, Lia had wheeled about to find a confused Brandon behind her.

“Oh. Hi Brandon. Sorry about that,” Lia said. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Um, okay,” replied Brandon. Lia realized how dumb that excuse sounded since Brandon was probably the person least likely to be confused with anyone else in the entire apartment complex. Oh well. It was the truth.

“What can I do for you?” Lia asked, thinking about her papers already.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to go out to lunch on Saturday. At about one?” Brandon asked with his winning smile.

“Sure, sure,” Lia replied absently. “That sounds great. I like lunch.”

“Great!” Brandon boomed. “I’ll see you Saturday!” And then Brandon left.

Lia mumbled some farewell, and then continued to her place while looking at the ground before her, focused intently on what she should write for her conclusion. Conclusions were hard. They had to be good, concise, and leave a good taste in the reader’s mouth, or the whole paper was basically ruined. As she shut the door behind her, Lia paused. She looked up.

Brandon had just asked her to lunch on Saturday. Saturday lunch date. Brandon and Joey. Joey and Amber. Brandon had no date. But now he did. Lia. Lia was Brandon’s date. Lia was going to go on a double date with Amber.

Amber would not be getting her wish of a date alone with Joey.

Lia was toast.

Next installment: The Zero-eth Date