7 of 183

Day 7—Making Headway on the Bonding Project

                        Step 4: Draw Each Other a Nice Picture.

            “Does drawing something potentially obscene count?”

                        No obscene drawings, please, I will be grading this, and I have kids at home.

            “Damn.”

            Leonard drew fighting stick figures. Nikolas gave him the tree he drew the day before.

Step 5: Exchange Phone Numbers

            “Okay, I officially think he’s messing with us,” Leonard announced.

            “We might as well do it,” Nikolas said dully. They swapped phones and created a contact with their information on it. When Nikolas got his phone back, he immediately looked at Leonard’s contact information. “Lenny IsSuperAwesome Astor?” he asked wryly.

            “Because it’s true,” Leonard quipped.

            “Hey Narcissist, smile.” Nikolas used his phone camera to snap the goofiest picture of his partner Leonard could make. “Perfect.”

            “Your turn.” Click. “Aww, too cute,” Leonard cooed.

            Nikolas punched him when he saw the picture.

                        Step 6: Exchange E-Mails.

            “It’s already in the contact stuff, though,” Nikolas said.

            “Then we can skip it.”

                        Step 7: Write Each Other an Interesting Note

            “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, now he’s messing with us,” Nikolas announced.

            They spent the rest of the period doodling and writing strange things in Spanish on a piece of paper.

                        Step 8: Go Home and Write an E-Mail to Each Other

            When Leonard got home, he logged onto his e-mail and tried to write an e-mail to Nikolas.

            He couldn’t think of anything to write, so he wrote about what came across his mind. He leaned back in his chair and thought. Then Henna came home carrying something that looked distinctly drowned.

            “Henna.”

            “Yes?” Henna set her drowned thing gently on the counter and heated up some milk she had found and set it in front of the drowned thing, which seemed to be wiggling and making high-pitched noises.

            “What is that?”

            “It’s a kitten that some douche tried to drown.”

            “You’re such a hippie.”

            “Well, that’s what I am, yes.”

            The bedraggled kitten mewled pathetically and Henna attempted to rub it dry with her long skirt, making small comforting noises to the poor thing.

            “Henna.”

            “Yes?”

            “Tea towels are available if you need to dry something.”

            “Right.” She left and came back with a towel that was patterned with small flowers. The kitten, which was apparently a light bluish grey, lapped quietly at the milk dish, and made a small noise of complaint when it was distracted by the ministrations of the hands that were rubbing it with some soft stuff.

            “Henna.”

            “Yes?”

            “I need a question.”

            “Who are you writing to?”

            “Nikki.”

            “Oh. You mean that guy with the silver headband and the hair that kind of goes like”—her hand made a slash across her face to indicate Nikolas’ jaggedly long bangs and then into a motion that was reminiscent of a rough haircut where the back was cut short and the front was left long.

            “Yeah. That guy.”

            “Well, ask him about music, or something. Your area of expertise, no?”

            “Yes.”


When Nikolas got home and logged onto his laptop, there was spam, a rather large group e-mail from his friends, and an e-mail from Leonard without a subject. He deleted the spam, read and laughed at his friends’ online antics and then clicked open Leonard’s e-mail. While it loaded, he put on music. Then his phone buzzed. It was a text message from Leonard.

                        >>Whatcha doin?

                        >>Well, aren’t you fast?

                        >>Answer q.

                        >>Demanding. Checking email.

                        >>Oh. I’ll stop bthrn u then.

                        >>You do that.

            He looked at Leonard’s e-mail. And laughed.

                        Hi Nikki,

I don’t really know what to say in this e-mail.

I’ll think of something eventually. I’m home alone right now and it’s too quiet. So I’m going to listen to music. Like…Frank Sinatra, or something. Asdfljasof;wofahsdlf. Monster scribble!! Oh. Henna just got home. She has a cat with her. Which is strange because we’ve never had a cat.

Okay. I just asked Henna for a question. Do you listen to music?

Lenny (is freaking awesome)

            His e-mail read like a running commentary of his life. And the question was just perfect. Just Leonard’s perfect, predictable question. He hit the reply button and typed.

                        You’re weird.

I’m home alone, too. I think my mom left to take pictures, or something. Dad’s at work and my sisters are still at school.

Aaakjlasdhfaweoiuthlsdf <<Have a monster scribble, too! 😉

Have you named the cat, yet? Do you know the species? I have a cat, too. He’s fat, lazy and his name is Lykke. We named him after Lykke Li, which is weird, but the name stuck.

And of course I listen to music. Who doesn’t? Do you really listen to Frank Sinatra?

            Lykke, as if typing his name had called him, hopped onto Nikolas’ keyboard and sat on his hands, blinking slowly and insolently.

            “Lykke. Get off. I need to send this e-mail to my project partner,” Nikolas told his cat patiently.

            Lykke meowed.

            “I’ll give you food,” Nikolas said hopefully.

            Lykke blinked.

            “Fooooood,” Nikolas coaxed.

            Lykke shifted his weight and Nikolas took the chance to grab him around the middle and lift him off the keyboard. Lykke meowed loudly in complaint.

            “No,” Nikolas admonished. “I’m busy.”

            Lykke threw him a contemptuous look and slunk out of the room.

                        Nikki (who just had a complete conversation with a fat, lazy tuxedo cat)

            He sent the e-mail.


            When Leonard received the e-mail, the little kitten was starting to explore the apartment on its own while Henna nervously watched its every move.

            “Henna.”

            “Yes?”

            “Relax. It’s not going to kill itself or spontaneously combust. And you are not its mother.”

            Henna immediately fired up. “Well, I very well may be! I found it abandoned and half-drowned next to a river. Whoever abandoned it has long since lost any rights to take care of it!”

            “Mm-hmm. What are you going to name it?”

            This took Henna off-guard a little bit. “I’ll have to think about it,” she said eventually.

            “I’m home!” a new voice called.

            “Hi Burnett!”

            “Whoa! Where’d the cat come from?” Burnett entered, trying not to trip over the little grey kitten that was winding its way around his feet.

            “Henna found it.”

            “Hippie.”

            Thus were the start long, senseless e-mails.

[Next chapter ==>]

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One comment on “7 of 183

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