Poop Shute

"Well, here we are" he said as he turned off the ignition to her car. She had taken down a pint or two too many, so he drove them both in her car to his house. She needed to sober up and he was too tired to handle the bar noise anymore.

"Yes. Here we are" she said a little too demurely for his liking.

As they walked in the door of the house he gave her the "five dollar tour," pointing out bathroom, roommates' rooms, kitchen, etc. She excused herself to the bathroom and he sat down on the couch. He would soon regret not choosing a chair.

She came out of the bathroom, saw where he was and sat down right next to him. Mere inches away. Now what he had been suspecting for a couple hours had become painfully clear. She thought this was more than it was.

Until tonight it had been nearly ten years since the two had seen each other. They shared a few stunted attempts at dating when they were around fourteen. They were twenty-four now, and had taken separate paths for all the years in between. He was a moderately successful actor, and she a pre-med student. The only reason they were seated next to each other at that moment was because after a strange walk down memory lane he had googled her name. And now, here she was.

Right then, as the sound of her too-close breathing made him feel very awkward, and fourteen all over again, he couldn't understand what he had been thinking. When the google search turned up fruit on the first result he emailed. She responded. They talked and agreed to meet for a drink to "catch up." During the conversation at the bar all he could think was "shut up, man" as his own mouth ruled the entirety of the conversation. Seriously, how does one learn anything about an old friend when one does not leave openings to listen?

The creepy method of finding her, and his odious, narcissitic behavior aside, here she was. Drunk and clearly making a pass at him.

All he could think to do was to really drive home the whole "I'm tired" bit and hope she could take a hint. Yawn a lot. Rub the bridge of the nose right where it meets the eyes. Blink rapidly. Yawn. Rub. Blink. Blink. Rub. Yawn.

Nothing.

"Hey, I got some pictures from that movie I did. You wanna' see 'em?" he asked.

"Sure." she said with a smile that faded when he walked over to his computer and sat in the desk chair and brought the pics up on the monitor. Sweet! he thought. Out of the couch, that's good.

"Well, you seem pretty tired. I should let you get to bed." she said glumly.

Finally she got the hint. Or so he thought.

"Yeah. I'm still not fully over this cold, so- you know- rest is a good idea. But hey, it was great seeing you before I left. Keep in touch." He began heading for the door.

"Yeah. You too" she said as she leaned in for a hug. Just a hug, no big deal he thought.

That's when it happened.

He let go and began to step back when he felt her not doing the same. He looked down at her to say something and she just looked at him with this curious expression that he could not identify. In that moment of hesitation she leaned in and kissed him before he even knew what was happening. It was so startling that in the first few seconds he just stood there like a deer in headlights. Sad and a little embarassed, he broke lip contact and leaned back in to the hug, keeping his face over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I can't. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just can't" he said with what was probably an over-dramatic, afterschool-special tone.

She pulled him back to look at him. "Because you're leaving?"

"No, I just can't. I'm gonna go back in now." and with that he took his leave of her.

She would call him the next night and he would see her number pop up on his cell phone screen and just stare at it until it stopped ringing.

She would not leave a message.