Steam curled and swayed out of the mug as Stacy sat back in her rocking chair. "Damn, I hate when shit is too hot to drink."
Jake laughed at her from the couch behind where she sat. "What don't you hate?" he asked. This was an ongoing conversation and, over the course of three years, he was pretty sure she had never had a repeat.
"Nutmeg," she answered, smirking, "best spice ever."
"That doesn't even make sense."
She shrugged and kept her eyes fixed on the computer screen. The facebook page in front of her refreshed and Pamela's new status popped up. "'No more time to make things right'," she read aloud, "think her and Cody broke up again?"
Jake paused his game and turned to her. "Either that or her and her mom got into it again."
"Same old, same old."
"Think we should ask?" She shrugged again. He got up and peered over her shoulder. "Go to her profile page, maybe she changed her status."
Stacy made a few clicks and scanned the screen. "Nah. Not yet at least."
"Well, leave her alone then, I guess. Not worth making drama if she's just gonna get over it." He flopped back onto the couch and picked up the controller. The sounds of yelling and gunfire drowned out the clicks of Stacy's mouse.
The droplet slid painfully slow down Pamela's cheek and dropped onto the 'h' key. Another fell on the 'n'. She sat back in her computer chair and stared into the glow of the screen. "no more time..." her words read back to her sandwiched between Steven's update about his car and Sandy's new pictures of her cat. Insignificant. Lost to more amusing things. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them, waiting. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Her jeans were soon damp with saltwater. Thirty minutes. A new message from Eric jumped open on her screen.
"hey"
Pamela reached out with one hand, "hey".
"what's up?"
"nm"
"you ok?"
she hesitated, hand outstretched. "sure," she typed each key slowly. "ok," his reply zipped back. she sighed. why not just say no? why post a cryptic status? why call out and then refuse to speak? she pressed her face into her knees.
Eric tabbed over to last.fm while Pamela typed. He typed in a new band and turned the volume up, tabbed back to facebook.
"sure" she had sent.
"ok" he typed back with a shrug. If she didn't wanna talk about it that was her problem. He scrolled down through the other updates. "Fucking Farmville" he muttered. Sean's job, Stacy's going shopping, funny video from Josh - nothing new. He clicked open his conversation with Pamela again. She hadn't replied. Sighing, he jabbed, "you sure?" into the blank space. There was always something up with Pamela, her posts were getting obnoxious. Part of him hoped she was okay and it was nothing serious, but most of him was just tired of never knowing what was up with her. Wasn't that what the internet was for? So he could know what everyone was doing and thinking and saying every second? The guesswork was so nineties. He tabbed back to last.fm. He hated this song.
Jake laughed at her from the couch behind where she sat. "What don't you hate?" he asked. This was an ongoing conversation and, over the course of three years, he was pretty sure she had never had a repeat.
"Nutmeg," she answered, smirking, "best spice ever."
"That doesn't even make sense."
She shrugged and kept her eyes fixed on the computer screen. The facebook page in front of her refreshed and Pamela's new status popped up. "'No more time to make things right'," she read aloud, "think her and Cody broke up again?"
Jake paused his game and turned to her. "Either that or her and her mom got into it again."
"Same old, same old."
"Think we should ask?" She shrugged again. He got up and peered over her shoulder. "Go to her profile page, maybe she changed her status."
Stacy made a few clicks and scanned the screen. "Nah. Not yet at least."
"Well, leave her alone then, I guess. Not worth making drama if she's just gonna get over it." He flopped back onto the couch and picked up the controller. The sounds of yelling and gunfire drowned out the clicks of Stacy's mouse.
The droplet slid painfully slow down Pamela's cheek and dropped onto the 'h' key. Another fell on the 'n'. She sat back in her computer chair and stared into the glow of the screen. "no more time..." her words read back to her sandwiched between Steven's update about his car and Sandy's new pictures of her cat. Insignificant. Lost to more amusing things. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them, waiting. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Her jeans were soon damp with saltwater. Thirty minutes. A new message from Eric jumped open on her screen.
"hey"
Pamela reached out with one hand, "hey".
"what's up?"
"nm"
"you ok?"
she hesitated, hand outstretched. "sure," she typed each key slowly. "ok," his reply zipped back. she sighed. why not just say no? why post a cryptic status? why call out and then refuse to speak? she pressed her face into her knees.
Eric tabbed over to last.fm while Pamela typed. He typed in a new band and turned the volume up, tabbed back to facebook.
"sure" she had sent.
"ok" he typed back with a shrug. If she didn't wanna talk about it that was her problem. He scrolled down through the other updates. "Fucking Farmville" he muttered. Sean's job, Stacy's going shopping, funny video from Josh - nothing new. He clicked open his conversation with Pamela again. She hadn't replied. Sighing, he jabbed, "you sure?" into the blank space. There was always something up with Pamela, her posts were getting obnoxious. Part of him hoped she was okay and it was nothing serious, but most of him was just tired of never knowing what was up with her. Wasn't that what the internet was for? So he could know what everyone was doing and thinking and saying every second? The guesswork was so nineties. He tabbed back to last.fm. He hated this song.
