Xylophone Buggery, Part 1wowthatismintyJuly 21 2010, 01:29:48 UTC
The great thing about school is that after about nine months of it, you get a break. Work? Not so much. The middle of June rolls around and while you loll about in eighty-degree parking lots, sticky with ice cream sandwiches and adolescent debauchery, your parents still have those suits to wear, those shipments to send, those conferences in Canton or Scranton or wherever the hell and they shuttle you to each college visit and the next before senior year begins, but they're out of your hair.
Another great thing about school is the people you meet, each new friend another plausible excuse, a name to throw out when your parents see you leaving for the fourth time in one week with a sleepover bag and a devious grin. You can say "I'm going to Quinn's," and really be going to Brittany's. You can say "I'm going to Mike's," and really be going to Tina's. Your parents know about Mike's grandma and how his place is accessible to you and they don't ask questions. ---
"You made it just in time," Tina says as the clouds loom ominously overhead. "Shoot, I know," Artie says. "Promise me you would have called if you'd gotten stuck in the rain?" Tina asks, pushing Artie's chair up the driveway. "You know it. What's on the agenda?" "I'm making dinner, and then I have to give the dog a bath 'cause he rolled in the garbage, then maybe a round of Awesome Scrabble, then...I don't know, cuddling? I'm really tired." "Tired? Tee, we've been out of school for five weeks and Nationals are over," Artie says as Tina pushes him into the foyer. The air conditioning feels delicious. "I went running this morning...I tried to take a nap...."
Artie pulls on Tina's arm. She kneels down to meet his face. He touches her forehead.
"What are you doing?" "Making sure you're OK. Is there something bugging you?" "I'm....I'm just....tired." "Why?" "I don't really....sleep." "Jesus, Tee, how long has this been going on?" "A couple of weeks...but it's not, you know, solid not sleeping. I get a few good nights here and there."
When you're there, she thinks.
"That's not healthy." "I know," Tina says, pushing Artie into the family room and throwing herself on the couch. "You went running 'cause you were already awake and you wanted to wear yourself out?" "Yeah." "When did you get up?" "Um...4:30?" "Shit, Tee." "Hey, guess what?" "What?" Artie asks.
Tina scoots up to the edge of the couch where her boyfriend is parked and kisses him on the cheek.
"Nice," he says, messing up her hair. "I try," she says sleepily. "Whose name did you use this time?" "For what?" "For explaining why you peaced out on the weekly Abrams family jaunt to the Dairy Queen." "Mike's. I can't go to the DQ after Finn made that shit joke at Kurt's place last year," Artie says, shuddering. "Oh, the one with the hips swiveling," Tina says. "Yeah." "Do my eyes look puffy?" "Kinda. What's for dindin?" "I don't know...it's too hot for soup, I don't know how to operate the grill, my dad hid the George Foreman after the incident..." "What incident?" "Something involving sleepwalking and him thinking it was the toilet seat and certain bits of anatomy getting slammed in it, thank God it wasn't on...." "Oh, Christ on a Vespa Scooter." "I was gonna make an antipasto but I'm pretty pro-pasto." "I think anti means before in Italian." "Well, I'm out of pasto---pasta at any rate. Why are you staring at me?" "Huh? What? I'm..." Artie stammers. Tina smiles. "I think my mom has some of those frozen TGI Friday's appetizers in the garage. We'll do that tonight and tomorrow when I'm, you know, not a zombie...I'll make it up to you." "As long as it involves the bathroom floor and me dressed up like Dr. Who..." Artie suggests saucily. "Well, damn," Tina says, "I was thinking we'd abuse our free meal deal at The Sweet Life, but...you know, bathroom floor and me calling you Doctor...that works too. As long as we fit dinner in there somewhere." "Tee?" "Yeah, Artie?" "I've been meaning to ask you something." "Is it the question you always ask me when you run out of things to ask me? 'Cause the answer is yes..." "No," Artie giggles. "What's Awesome Scrabble?" "It's when you make up the words and you can't advance a turn until you define your word." "Cool."
Xylophone Buggery, Part 2wowthatismintyJuly 21 2010, 02:26:41 UTC
"Do you love me even though I smell like wet dog?" Tina asks as Owen dries himself off by rolling all over her bedroom floor and Artie's sleepover bag. "I love you even more," Artie says. "You're freaky." "No, you are." "Look at him. He's so carefree..." "He's a big doof." "Who knew he would shed so much? You don't think he would, 'cause, you know, short haired dog...but he does! Ugh, I wish he wouldn't fall asleep spread-eagle, he needs a modesty patch or something." "Spread-beagle," Artie says. "He's a basset hound." "Whatever. Come finish your potato skins with me and then we have to play Scrabble."
Tina gets up and throws a towel over her inappropriate dog. She pulls her desk chair over to the little card table she has set up so that Artie can eat and joins him.
"These are so processed and I weep for America's farmlands, but good GODDAMN they're delicious," she says. "Preach," Artie says. "You have a little mustard on your cute chin," Tina says, leaning over the table to wipe it off of him. "Where have I heard that one before?" "Episode six of Felicidad, Emilia says it to Guillermo in the teachers' lounge." "Right."
Artie sticks the potato skin to his front teeth.
"Excuse me, Tina, but do I have something in my teeth?" "Don't make me eat it off of you." "Tasty," Artie says. "I think we're done," Tina says, putting the plates on the floor. She gets up and goes to her shelf and grabs the Scrabble game. She sets it up on the card table as Artie picks his teeth. ---
"LITHODAY?" Tina asks, raising an eyebrow. "It's...a holiday celebrating the achievements of John Lithgow." "Whatever," Tina says, putting down her tiles. "BOINGFEAR?" Artie asks. "The fear of becoming airborne. Duh."
Artie puts down more tiles.
"TOJWOGAN? Now you're just making shit up." "We're both making shit up, it's the point of the game." "Tojwogan..." "Experiencing tojwogery, that feeling you get in your stomach when you remember something painfully embarrassing that, most likely, no one else remembers." "Oh." "Your turn."
Tina puts down more tiles.
"FITSY. When an article of clothing fits enough to warrant its purchase, but requires massive amounts of alterations or adjustments to make it work." "You mean, like, when we had to shoehorn you into your regionals dress last year after your mom put you on the Pill?" "Kind of like that. Thank God for modern medicine," she slurs. "Tee, you need to go to bed." "Artie....it's only, like, 7." "You need to go to bed. I'll occupy myself. I've got comic books and stuff in my backpack." "Fine," she says, pushing herself away from the table. She grabs Artie's backpack and throws it on her bed. She transfers him from his wheelchair to the bed and shuts off the light before climbing into bed herself.
Xylophone Buggery, Part 3wowthatismintyJuly 21 2010, 03:59:10 UTC
Tina's always been slightly morbid and the recent celebrity death trifectas have gotten her musing more than once on the thought of dying in her sleep. She has made it her goal to fall asleep in the weirdest positions possible to confound and amuse anyone who finds her in that state should she expire prematurely. Artie's a bit weirded out by this whole thing, but he can sort of get behind her lastest attempt at the concept, a position she's entitled Demented Barnacle, in which she spends the entire night clinging to the nearest object, often a pillow but mostly him. It does kind of blow that he can't feel her legs wrapped around him, but her arms around his waist feel nice and her head on his chest is just the icing on the cake, even if she occasionally headbutts a cominc book out of his arms. Being July, it's still light out, so he finishes AWESOMESQUAD #16 well before the sun sets, running his fingers through Tina's soft hair and listening to her little whimpers and groans. Or maybe that's the dog on the floor. Sometimes he can't tell.
"That's a bastard zebra," she mumbles. "What?" "Bastard zeeeeebra. ZEBRA. Stealing all my asparaguses. Swat him, swaaaat him."
Artie laughs. What is this? He reaches past her for the backpack to put away his comic book and grab his notebook and accidentally brushes past her breast.
"Oh, love. Love it love you love love it love mmmmm hello, stop it, ya bum!"
He kisses her forehead and reaches into the space between them to pull a pen out of his pocket. He has to write this shit down.
But then of course, she's silent for the next half hour and even though it's a quarter to eight and the sun is only now hiding behind the trees to the west, Artie feels his own eyes starting to shut. His pants are hopeless, what with the limp legs and the girlfriend wrapped around them, but he manages to wriggle his way out of his shirt and throw it on the floor in a ball. He places the notebook next to himself and closes his eyes.
"OH GOD BABY, IT'S IN A TREEEE, IN A TRRREEEEE and it can't GET DOWN. Iguanas!"
She's fallen asleep beside him dozens of times before and she's never this vocal. Not with words at least. He closes his eyes and pulls her in closer to calm her down.
"Shut up with the pop and lock, my man's gonna...I'm kicking you out of the nest. Bus trip!"
Tina headbutts Artie in the chin.
"OW." "Ummmmff, where did we put the hats? The hats for your friend. The full body hats. Raincoats. Your kibbbbbbbbbbbles. Your Hootie-Hooooo. Youuuuu want my pelvis."
Xylophone Buggery, Part 4wowthatismintyJuly 21 2010, 12:20:47 UTC
"MMMMNNN!" Tina whines, scrambling up Artie's body. She wakes up face to face with him.
"Breakfast?" she coos. "Tee, it's nine." "Nine's good for breakfast," she pouts. "Nine at night. You went to bed less than two hours ago," Artie says, petting her hair. She rolls off of him. "Help me with my pants and then go back to sleep."
Tina sits up and futzes with the button on Artie's jeans, undoes it, unzips them and pulls them off of him. She balls them up and throws them on the floor.
"Good," Artie says. "Now back to sleep." "Mmmm." "Tee, don't fall asleep sitting up," he says. He pulls her down beside him. "Better."
She falls asleep almost immediately. Artie closes his eyes. Her room's a little cold, but the driving rain is excellent white noise and Tina's doing a pretty decent job of warming up, so sleep seems imminent. She nuzzles him and he turns his head to kiss her, falling asleep mid-kiss.
"He's not a three year old boy, he's a pile of felt with a forty-nine-year-old's hand up his ass. HE CAN'T TESTIFY IN CONGRESS." "What?" Artie groans. "Elmo. Going to sleep." "Good idea." ---
Tina wakes up refreshed the next morning at half past seven. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and the morning has had certain effects on Artie he doesn't notice because he's still sleeping. Tina wonders if she should take care of the situation, but decides it's a decision better made together. She spots his notebook and reaches across his body for it. She picks it up and scoots herself upright, wrapping her right leg around his left.
The first few pages are notes for class, the next a few dead-on caricatures of Mercedes flipping her shit at Nationals, the next few pages an epic canonical list of movie titles vastly improved by deleting one of the words and replacing it with "vagina" and then...the list.
What IS this shit?
Tina taps Artie on the shoulder.
"Baby, wake up." "Huh?"
Artie looks down at the peak forming in the blanket.
"What? You didn't even do anything." "You're a guy. It happens." "I know," he says, "but...sheesh." "Well, I'm not offended if you're not offended," Tina says, stroking Artie's chest with her free hand, "but...what the hell is this?" "What the hell is what?" Artie says, scooting himself up to a seated position and hiding his situation under the balled-up blanket. "Well, first of all, you don't have to hide, ain't nothing I haven't seen before...but no, I was talking about...this. Iguanas?" "You were...amusing last night," he says, resting his head on her shoulder. "You mean..." "You said all this stuff in your sleep. Yes." "God, I should be sleep-deprived more often," she jokes. "No, not really. I tried to make out with you right before I went to sleep and you went to first base with, like, my ear." "Eep." "It's OK," Artie says, picking up Tina's hand and kissing it. "You always know the right thing to say," Tina says. "And you say things like 'Bastard zeeeeebra. ZEBRA. Stealing all my asparaguses. Swat him, swaaaat him.'" "What? That's not in here!" "That was the first thing you said," Artie giggles. "What's the plan for today?" "I was thinking we'd take advantage of your little situation---" Tina says, pulling back the blanket. "Crap. Seems to have taken care of itself." "It's OK. It's like Jesus or the groundhog. It'll come back," Artie jokes. "OK, then. Plan B. Breakfast. I've been told I make some pretty bangin' Toaster Strudels." "Righteous." "Then maybe we'll go to the library or something or the mall...or Mercedes's house...or something...and then The Sweet Life, 'cause I promised, and then we can...ummm...rock the Tardis....and then you can write down more funny shit I say in my sleep...and then Sunday morning, I'll invite Mike over so he can take you back to your house without your parents being suspicious." "Genius."
Xylophone Buggery, Part 5wowthatismintyJuly 22 2010, 00:46:03 UTC
Tina gets up out of bed.
"Oh no. OH GOD. OH GOD NO." "What happened? Law and Order SVU get cancelled?" "No, Owen threw up in your duffle bag." "Ew." "Do you have a change of clothes here?" "Not for this weather," Artie groans. "Here we go," Tina says, looking through her t-shirt drawer. "It's my dad's old t-shirt from college. It'll be a little big on you, it's big on me, but...it'll work." "Tee, it says 'Chang' on the back and it's got the Cornell logo on the front. If I go home tomorrow wearing that, they'll know what's up." "Mike's dad went to Cornell," Tina says, "and his last name is Chang." "Is THAT why you two hang out so much?" "Yeah, our dads were roommates." "Whoa." "You'll be fine. I'm going to go take a shower."
She throws him the tee-shirt.
Tina always showers first; the daughter of a business major, her showers are quick and efficient and she gets the job done with minimal time and minimal waste. Artie, on the other hand, believes that one is not fully clean unless one has sung "The Ultimate Showdown Of Ultimate Destiny" in its entirety as he or she lathers up. ---
"I have to commend you, Tee. These are some pretty bangin' Toaster Strudels." "I'm sorry about the dog...I'd wash your shirt but my parents got a new steam washer and I haven't figured out how to use it yet. And I'm not handwashing it, 'cause, you know, dog hork." "It's fine." "I just remembered my parents wanted me to take him for a waddle today...but it's too hot. I was thinking I'd just fill up my old kiddie pool and let him gallivant around the yard. We can lounge around like badasses." "That works." "Are you sure? I mean...I kind of thought we'd get out of the house at some point, but...I'm sort of fine just staying here." "Yeah, it's fine. My parents do errands on Saturdays. If we went into town, we'd see them." "Are they upset with me or something? I mean, you keep making excuses for seeing me..." "It's not you, Tee." "Then what's going on? I mean, why do you not want them to know how much you're with me?" "I think they're worried that I've lost interest in everything else I used to do..." "But that's not true! I mean, sure, you peaced out on jazz band, but you still make movies...and you still do your def poetry jams. Did they say that? I mean, did they mention that they thought..."
Artie takes Tina's hand.
"No, Tee. It's just me being...I don't know...paranoid. They really like you. My dad told me never to let you go." "He's a smart guy," Tina says, blushing. "Yeah, he is. Even if he believed up until a year ago that bunnies came out of eggs." "WHAT?" "I don't know...Easter?" "You're Jewish." "I know." "Was I really talking in my sleep?" "Hells yes." "Does...that happen a lot? I'm starting to wonder if that's why everyone looked at me funny for the last two quarters of the school year. I mean, you know, after Mercedes's pre-Sectionals sleepover." "Nobody looked at you funny." "Santana looked at me funny." "Santana looks at everyone funny." "Did you know Santana's dad invented Toaster Strudels?" "You're so full of crap, Tee." "But...do I?" "Do you what?" Artie says, scooping out the inside of his second Toaster Strudel with his finger. "LOOK! BLOODY HAAAAAANDS!" "Hah. Do I talk in my sleep? "I never noticed it before. Maybe you just have to be really tired. You could have done it at the party. I wouldn't know. I fell asleep before you." "You fell asleep ON me. But...I mean...it was cute. You make little kissy noises in your sleep."
Artie consumes the innards of his Toaster Strudel. Tina rolls her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I should have asked if you wanted my strudel-guts." "Sounds like one of those weird German compound nouns." "I wouldn't be surprised if they have a word for the weird cheese remnants on the wrapper after you eat a burger from Mickey D's." "Who?" "The Germans. God, you're really distracted this morning." "I'm a little lost..." "If that sentence ends with 'in your eyes,' I'm gonna have to stop you there. We're getting so sappy, I could tap that and syrup would come out." "Ew." "Yeah, you're right, that is a little ew."
Xylophone Buggery, Part 6wowthatismintyJuly 22 2010, 02:12:44 UTC
Tina grabs Artie's plate and her own and heads towards the dishwasher. She loads the dishes in and throws out the wrappers. She looks under the sink and locates the Resolve.
"I have to be brave and deal with some dog yack, I'll be right back." "That rhymes." "Hah."
Tina heads down the hall into her bedroom. Artie wheels himself to the window. There's a hummingbird at the feeder with a blue splotch the exact color of Tina's extensions. He notices that Tina's parents have purchased some new patio furniture, including an eerily familiar chaise set.
"TEE?" Artie yells. "YEAH, BABE?" "DID YOUR PARENTS BUY THE SAME PATIO SET AS SHARON PUCKERMAN?" "OH FUCK."
Tina cackles from the other room. Artie could listen to her laugh forever. Well, maybe not forever. He'd sort of like to talk with her in between. And make out. And she'd probably need to eat something at some point.
"HOW AMAZING WAS THE SEASON FINALE OF FELICIDAD?" Tina yells from the other room. "I THOUGHT IT WAS KIND OF A COPOUT THAT THE WRITERS HAD FINLANDÉS, NOÉ AND GUILLERMO SAY 'I LOVE YOU' TO GIRLS THAT WEREN'T EVEN THEIR GIRLFRIENDS, AND ALL ARTURO AND VALENTINA GOT WAS SOME ADORABLE HAND TWIDDLING." "DID YOU SEE GUILLERMO DURING 'PARA SEÑOR, CON AMOR,' THOUGH? ARTURO AND VALENTINA TOTALLY BUSTED OUT THEIR LINE AND HE GRINNED LIKE AN IDIOT. HE TOTALLY KNOWS WHAT THEY'RE UP TO!" "TRUE. ARE YOU ALMOST DONE CLEANING UP THE DOG HORK? I WANNA GO OUTSIDE BEFORE IT GETS TOO SUNNY." "WHY, DO YOU SPARKLE IN THE SUNLIGHT? I'M GETTING MY BATHING SUIT ON." "BATHING SUIT?" "YEAH, OWEN WON'T GO IN THE KIDDIE POOL UNLESS SOMEONE'S IN THERE WITH HIM, AND IT'S TOO SLIPPERY FOR YOU TO DO IT." "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID." "FUNNY. SO YEAH, THAT AND I'D DIE OF HEATSTROKE IF I WENT OUTSIDE DRESSING ALL AVRIL LAVIGNE LIKE I NORMALLY DO." "OK." "DONE!"
Tina runs in from her bedroom and slides across the hardwood floor in her socks. She misjudges her trajectory and goes flying into Artie's chair.
"Why are you wearing socks, Tee?" "I just bruised my vagina." "I'm sorry...but why are you wearing socks?" "I wanted to glide across the kitchen floor like a badass. But obviously," she says, "failed." "It's OK. Where did you get this?" he asks, sliding his hand over her hip. "My childbearing hips? Well, Bubbe Chang's got a small butt and...my mom's adopted, so...I don't know." "I meant the bathing suit." "Oh, this is an Evelyn Cohen-Chang 1983 original. I'm not sure if I'm totally into the one-strap-ness...I'm gonna get some weird tan lines." "It looks fine. Allons-y!"
Tina whistles for the dog and the three of them head outside. Tina hands a bottle of sunscreen to Artie.
"Use this. I'm not into lobsters."
Artie pinches Tina's butt.
"Very funny." ---
Tina pulls the kiddie pool out from her father's shed.
"Why haven't we christened the shed?" "Because there's a hornet's nest in there?" "Oh."
Tina places the pool by the edge of the patio and pulls the hose out from behind a shrub.
"Hold my hose for a second?" "That's what he said." "Hold it away from you, we don't want to soak your chair." "That's what she said." "Come on, Artie, I'm trying to do this and you're making it hard." "That's what he said." "Oh God." "That's what she said."
Tina storms off and goes back to the side of the house to turn the water on. When she returns to the patio, Artie has the hose positioned between his legs, because he's classy and mature.
Xylophone Buggery, Part 7wowthatismintyJuly 22 2010, 03:14:17 UTC
"Come on, you big lump," Tina says, wrestling Owen into the kiddie pool. "Mama needs to wash the stink off of you." "Tee, I think he hates it." "No, he just hates getting in. Once he realizes that he's not gonna drown....you see that? There he goes." "He's trying to eat a butterfly." "He's having fun. Good boy. Good puppy."
Tina takes Owen's face in her hands.
"I wuv you. I wuv you sooo sooo much my wittle dwoopy guy, dwoopy dwoopy guy. But quit horking on my boyfriend's clothes, aiight? Good baby. Good doggie." "You're so good with him." "He's my homie, Artie. He's a badass." "Come sit with me when you're done." "I can get out now that he's situated," Tina says, climbing out of the kiddie pool as Owen's tail swishes through the water. "Want to stay in your chair or transfer to the chaise?" "The chaise," he says, unbuckling himself. "I tried to rub all the sunscreen in but I might still be a little slick."
Tina slides Artie onto the chaise and puts out a towel for herself on the other one.
"I'm going to go get some stuff from the fridge so we don't get dehydrated. Any requests?" "Orange juice?" "Ew." "Ew what? Orange juice is good." "I don't trust drinks I can't see through." "You can't see through grape juice, Tee." "Yes, I can. I'm magic." ---
"Tee..." "Yes, love?" Tina says, a glass of orange juice in one hand, a glass of lemonade in the other and a bag of Pirate's Booty under her left arm. "Your seat has been usurped by a wet basset hound." "Go. GO!"
Owen shuffles off dejectedly. Tina hands Artie the drinks and pushes her chaise next to him.
"Hand me the lemonade?"
He does and she drinks it all in one gulp.
"What? I was thirsty."
Artie turns his head towards Tina and greets her eyes with a very concerned look.
"How's your vagina?" "What?" "You bruised it when you Tom Cruised it across the floor." "That rhymes...and....it's fine. Now don't get any ideas, we can't have a repeat of the Puckerman incident. Remember, I could escape from Puck's house. I can't escape from here. Not until I graduate. However, Betty and I appreciate your concern and we would love the company of the Righteous Blade of Equality at some point later tonight."
Tina closes her eyes. Artie grabs her hand and weaves her fingers in between his. He watches her chest rise and fall and unconsciously begins copying her breathing patterns. Her arm goes limp and he realizes she's fallen asleep.
Xylophone Buggery, Part 8wowthatismintyJuly 22 2010, 13:24:22 UTC
On the bright side, Artie's prepared this time with his notebook and pen. On the Dark Side, there's Darth Vader.
Artie reaches down to his right and grabs his backpack. He feels himself falling a little, but even in her sleep Tina's got a pretty good hold on him. He pulls out his notebook and begins a rough sketch of Owen floating about, using his gigantic pendulous ears as a propeller. Tina grips Artie's left hand tightly.
"Giiirrrrrlll," Tina groans, "you a hot mess, you a hot-ass mess."
Into the notebook.
A dragonfly lands on Tina's face. Artie leans over and blows it off of her.
He's been wondering when he was going to get a cameo in her sleep babble. He uses all of his strength to pull himself closer to her and rests his head on her shoulder.
"If weeeeeeeee don't get more duets before we graduate, I'ma fart in Mr. Schue's general direction at commencement. Hee!"
Keep them coming, Artie thinks, pulling the towel over their faces. He doesn't care if his legs get sunburnt, but he's worried that the sunlight might roast his eyes through his glasses like an ant through a magnifying glass.
"I wanna....do nothing for a little while. Get a house, make love, eat peanut butter on apple slices, RAISE BABY TURTLES!" Tina screams, waking herself up. "Tee," Artie says, stroking her arm. "What just happened?" "You yelled at yourself." "Where am I?" "We're still on the patio. It was getting kind of hot so I put the towel over our heads." "What did I say?" "You called someone a hot-ass mess. You were talking about the breeze. You said my name about a bazillion times. You threatened to fart at Mr. Schue if we didn't get more duets. And then you planned for the future," he says, kissing her hand. "The future? What'd I say?" "You suggested we get a house, make love, eat apple slices with peanut butter on them and then raise baby turtles." "Baby turtles?" "You screamed the last part." "I guess I just really like baby turtles." "They grow up, you know. Into big turtles. Maybe we should go inside. I think your dog may have melted." ---
"It seems like whatever we do," Artie says, "we always end up in your bed."
Tina giggles.
"So our activities are a little circuitous, so what? It's not like we don't have fun," she says, poking him in the forehead. "You do know I can transfer myself into your bed, right?" "Yeah," she blushes, "but I like helping. Makes me feel closer to you." "What time is it?"
Tina looks up at the clock on her wall.
"Quarter to 12. Gives us time for a little nap, then lunch, then whatever, then dinner, then you know..." "Nap? Jesus, Tee. You were asleep literally ten minutes ago." "The heat makes me tired." "I'm worried that you might be sick or something. Like mono. If you have mono, I have mono." "You can't get it twice and I had it in the seventh grade." "Who the hell were you kissing in the seventh grade?" "NOBODY! I shared a soda with my friend Heather." "Well, is something upsetting you? I mean, are you worried about getting into college? Is there some sort of family thing? Did I do something wrong?" "No, no and definitely not," Tina says, wrapping her legs around Artie. "We should go to a doctor. Maybe you have, like, a vitamin deficiency. I mean, maybe you need more infusions of Vitamin A, wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more..." "I have a VERY balanced diet," Tina pouts. "I know that," Artie says, "but maybe you're not absorbing all of your nutrients. You're young, you shouldn't be this tired." "I'm fiiiiine," she says, nibbling his shoulder. "Unf...Jesus, Tee." "Wake me up when you want to make lunch. I have some spinach and gorgonzola and walnuts in the fridge....we could make salads," she says before nodding off. "Tee," Artie says, worriedly running his fingers through her hair, "I hope you're OK."
He lies back, feeling her every heartbeat. Five minutes go by, then ten, then fifty. His stomach begins to growl. Tina stirs.
Another great thing about school is the people you meet, each new friend another plausible excuse, a name to throw out when your parents see you leaving for the fourth time in one week with a sleepover bag and a devious grin. You can say "I'm going to Quinn's," and really be going to Brittany's. You can say "I'm going to Mike's," and really be going to Tina's. Your parents know about Mike's grandma and how his place is accessible to you and they don't ask questions.
---
"You made it just in time," Tina says as the clouds loom ominously overhead.
"Shoot, I know," Artie says.
"Promise me you would have called if you'd gotten stuck in the rain?" Tina asks, pushing Artie's chair up the driveway.
"You know it. What's on the agenda?"
"I'm making dinner, and then I have to give the dog a bath 'cause he rolled in the garbage, then maybe a round of Awesome Scrabble, then...I don't know, cuddling? I'm really tired."
"Tired? Tee, we've been out of school for five weeks and Nationals are over," Artie says as Tina pushes him into the foyer. The air conditioning feels delicious.
"I went running this morning...I tried to take a nap...."
Artie pulls on Tina's arm. She kneels down to meet his face. He touches her forehead.
"What are you doing?"
"Making sure you're OK. Is there something bugging you?"
"I'm....I'm just....tired."
"Why?"
"I don't really....sleep."
"Jesus, Tee, how long has this been going on?"
"A couple of weeks...but it's not, you know, solid not sleeping. I get a few good nights here and there."
When you're there, she thinks.
"That's not healthy."
"I know," Tina says, pushing Artie into the family room and throwing herself on the couch.
"You went running 'cause you were already awake and you wanted to wear yourself out?"
"Yeah."
"When did you get up?"
"Um...4:30?"
"Shit, Tee."
"Hey, guess what?"
"What?" Artie asks.
Tina scoots up to the edge of the couch where her boyfriend is parked and kisses him on the cheek.
"Nice," he says, messing up her hair.
"I try," she says sleepily. "Whose name did you use this time?"
"For what?"
"For explaining why you peaced out on the weekly Abrams family jaunt to the Dairy Queen."
"Mike's. I can't go to the DQ after Finn made that shit joke at Kurt's place last year," Artie says, shuddering.
"Oh, the one with the hips swiveling," Tina says.
"Yeah."
"Do my eyes look puffy?"
"Kinda. What's for dindin?"
"I don't know...it's too hot for soup, I don't know how to operate the grill, my dad hid the George Foreman after the incident..."
"What incident?"
"Something involving sleepwalking and him thinking it was the toilet seat and certain bits of anatomy getting slammed in it, thank God it wasn't on...."
"Oh, Christ on a Vespa Scooter."
"I was gonna make an antipasto but I'm pretty pro-pasto."
"I think anti means before in Italian."
"Well, I'm out of pasto---pasta at any rate. Why are you staring at me?"
"Huh? What? I'm..." Artie stammers. Tina smiles.
"I think my mom has some of those frozen TGI Friday's appetizers in the garage. We'll do that tonight and tomorrow when I'm, you know, not a zombie...I'll make it up to you."
"As long as it involves the bathroom floor and me dressed up like Dr. Who..." Artie suggests saucily.
"Well, damn," Tina says, "I was thinking we'd abuse our free meal deal at The Sweet Life, but...you know, bathroom floor and me calling you Doctor...that works too. As long as we fit dinner in there somewhere."
"Tee?"
"Yeah, Artie?"
"I've been meaning to ask you something."
"Is it the question you always ask me when you run out of things to ask me? 'Cause the answer is yes..."
"No," Artie giggles. "What's Awesome Scrabble?"
"It's when you make up the words and you can't advance a turn until you define your word."
"Cool."
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"I love you even more," Artie says.
"You're freaky."
"No, you are."
"Look at him. He's so carefree..."
"He's a big doof."
"Who knew he would shed so much? You don't think he would, 'cause, you know, short haired dog...but he does! Ugh, I wish he wouldn't fall asleep spread-eagle, he needs a modesty patch or something."
"Spread-beagle," Artie says.
"He's a basset hound."
"Whatever. Come finish your potato skins with me and then we have to play Scrabble."
Tina gets up and throws a towel over her inappropriate dog. She pulls her desk chair over to the little card table she has set up so that Artie can eat and joins him.
"These are so processed and I weep for America's farmlands, but good GODDAMN they're delicious," she says.
"Preach," Artie says.
"You have a little mustard on your cute chin," Tina says, leaning over the table to wipe it off of him.
"Where have I heard that one before?"
"Episode six of Felicidad, Emilia says it to Guillermo in the teachers' lounge."
"Right."
Artie sticks the potato skin to his front teeth.
"Excuse me, Tina, but do I have something in my teeth?"
"Don't make me eat it off of you."
"Tasty," Artie says.
"I think we're done," Tina says, putting the plates on the floor. She gets up and goes to her shelf and grabs the Scrabble game. She sets it up on the card table as Artie picks his teeth.
---
"LITHODAY?" Tina asks, raising an eyebrow.
"It's...a holiday celebrating the achievements of John Lithgow."
"Whatever," Tina says, putting down her tiles.
"BOINGFEAR?" Artie asks.
"The fear of becoming airborne. Duh."
Artie puts down more tiles.
"TOJWOGAN? Now you're just making shit up."
"We're both making shit up, it's the point of the game."
"Tojwogan..."
"Experiencing tojwogery, that feeling you get in your stomach when you remember something painfully embarrassing that, most likely, no one else remembers."
"Oh."
"Your turn."
Tina puts down more tiles.
"FITSY. When an article of clothing fits enough to warrant its purchase, but requires massive amounts of alterations or adjustments to make it work."
"You mean, like, when we had to shoehorn you into your regionals dress last year after your mom put you on the Pill?"
"Kind of like that. Thank God for modern medicine," she slurs.
"Tee, you need to go to bed."
"Artie....it's only, like, 7."
"You need to go to bed. I'll occupy myself. I've got comic books and stuff in my backpack."
"Fine," she says, pushing herself away from the table. She grabs Artie's backpack and throws it on her bed. She transfers him from his wheelchair to the bed and shuts off the light before climbing into bed herself.
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"That's a bastard zebra," she mumbles.
"What?"
"Bastard zeeeeebra. ZEBRA. Stealing all my asparaguses. Swat him, swaaaat him."
Artie laughs. What is this? He reaches past her for the backpack to put away his comic book and grab his notebook and accidentally brushes past her breast.
"Oh, love. Love it love you love love it love mmmmm hello, stop it, ya bum!"
He kisses her forehead and reaches into the space between them to pull a pen out of his pocket. He has to write this shit down.
But then of course, she's silent for the next half hour and even though it's a quarter to eight and the sun is only now hiding behind the trees to the west, Artie feels his own eyes starting to shut. His pants are hopeless, what with the limp legs and the girlfriend wrapped around them, but he manages to wriggle his way out of his shirt and throw it on the floor in a ball. He places the notebook next to himself and closes his eyes.
"OH GOD BABY, IT'S IN A TREEEE, IN A TRRREEEEE and it can't GET DOWN. Iguanas!"
She's fallen asleep beside him dozens of times before and she's never this vocal. Not with words at least. He closes his eyes and pulls her in closer to calm her down.
"Shut up with the pop and lock, my man's gonna...I'm kicking you out of the nest. Bus trip!"
Tina headbutts Artie in the chin.
"OW."
"Ummmmff, where did we put the hats? The hats for your friend. The full body hats. Raincoats. Your kibbbbbbbbbbbles. Your Hootie-Hooooo. Youuuuu want my pelvis."
Artie can't really argue with that.
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"Breakfast?" she coos.
"Tee, it's nine."
"Nine's good for breakfast," she pouts.
"Nine at night. You went to bed less than two hours ago," Artie says, petting her hair. She rolls off of him. "Help me with my pants and then go back to sleep."
Tina sits up and futzes with the button on Artie's jeans, undoes it, unzips them and pulls them off of him. She balls them up and throws them on the floor.
"Good," Artie says. "Now back to sleep."
"Mmmm."
"Tee, don't fall asleep sitting up," he says. He pulls her down beside him. "Better."
She falls asleep almost immediately. Artie closes his eyes. Her room's a little cold, but the driving rain is excellent white noise and Tina's doing a pretty decent job of warming up, so sleep seems imminent. She nuzzles him and he turns his head to kiss her, falling asleep mid-kiss.
"He's not a three year old boy, he's a pile of felt with a forty-nine-year-old's hand up his ass. HE CAN'T TESTIFY IN CONGRESS."
"What?" Artie groans.
"Elmo. Going to sleep."
"Good idea."
---
Tina wakes up refreshed the next morning at half past seven. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and the morning has had certain effects on Artie he doesn't notice because he's still sleeping. Tina wonders if she should take care of the situation, but decides it's a decision better made together. She spots his notebook and reaches across his body for it. She picks it up and scoots herself upright, wrapping her right leg around his left.
The first few pages are notes for class, the next a few dead-on caricatures of Mercedes flipping her shit at Nationals, the next few pages an epic canonical list of movie titles vastly improved by deleting one of the words and replacing it with "vagina" and then...the list.
What IS this shit?
Tina taps Artie on the shoulder.
"Baby, wake up."
"Huh?"
Artie looks down at the peak forming in the blanket.
"What? You didn't even do anything."
"You're a guy. It happens."
"I know," he says, "but...sheesh."
"Well, I'm not offended if you're not offended," Tina says, stroking Artie's chest with her free hand, "but...what the hell is this?"
"What the hell is what?" Artie says, scooting himself up to a seated position and hiding his situation under the balled-up blanket.
"Well, first of all, you don't have to hide, ain't nothing I haven't seen before...but no, I was talking about...this. Iguanas?"
"You were...amusing last night," he says, resting his head on her shoulder.
"You mean..."
"You said all this stuff in your sleep. Yes."
"God, I should be sleep-deprived more often," she jokes.
"No, not really. I tried to make out with you right before I went to sleep and you went to first base with, like, my ear."
"Eep."
"It's OK," Artie says, picking up Tina's hand and kissing it.
"You always know the right thing to say," Tina says.
"And you say things like 'Bastard zeeeeebra. ZEBRA. Stealing all my asparaguses. Swat him, swaaaat him.'"
"What? That's not in here!"
"That was the first thing you said," Artie giggles. "What's the plan for today?"
"I was thinking we'd take advantage of your little situation---" Tina says, pulling back the blanket. "Crap. Seems to have taken care of itself."
"It's OK. It's like Jesus or the groundhog. It'll come back," Artie jokes.
"OK, then. Plan B. Breakfast. I've been told I make some pretty bangin' Toaster Strudels."
"Righteous."
"Then maybe we'll go to the library or something or the mall...or Mercedes's house...or something...and then The Sweet Life, 'cause I promised, and then we can...ummm...rock the Tardis....and then you can write down more funny shit I say in my sleep...and then Sunday morning, I'll invite Mike over so he can take you back to your house without your parents being suspicious."
"Genius."
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"Oh no. OH GOD. OH GOD NO."
"What happened? Law and Order SVU get cancelled?"
"No, Owen threw up in your duffle bag."
"Ew."
"Do you have a change of clothes here?"
"Not for this weather," Artie groans.
"Here we go," Tina says, looking through her t-shirt drawer. "It's my dad's old t-shirt from college. It'll be a little big on you, it's big on me, but...it'll work."
"Tee, it says 'Chang' on the back and it's got the Cornell logo on the front. If I go home tomorrow wearing that, they'll know what's up."
"Mike's dad went to Cornell," Tina says, "and his last name is Chang."
"Is THAT why you two hang out so much?"
"Yeah, our dads were roommates."
"Whoa."
"You'll be fine. I'm going to go take a shower."
She throws him the tee-shirt.
Tina always showers first; the daughter of a business major, her showers are quick and efficient and she gets the job done with minimal time and minimal waste. Artie, on the other hand, believes that one is not fully clean unless one has sung "The Ultimate Showdown Of Ultimate Destiny" in its entirety as he or she lathers up.
---
"I have to commend you, Tee. These are some pretty bangin' Toaster Strudels."
"I'm sorry about the dog...I'd wash your shirt but my parents got a new steam washer and I haven't figured out how to use it yet. And I'm not handwashing it, 'cause, you know, dog hork."
"It's fine."
"I just remembered my parents wanted me to take him for a waddle today...but it's too hot. I was thinking I'd just fill up my old kiddie pool and let him gallivant around the yard. We can lounge around like badasses."
"That works."
"Are you sure? I mean...I kind of thought we'd get out of the house at some point, but...I'm sort of fine just staying here."
"Yeah, it's fine. My parents do errands on Saturdays. If we went into town, we'd see them."
"Are they upset with me or something? I mean, you keep making excuses for seeing me..."
"It's not you, Tee."
"Then what's going on? I mean, why do you not want them to know how much you're with me?"
"I think they're worried that I've lost interest in everything else I used to do..."
"But that's not true! I mean, sure, you peaced out on jazz band, but you still make movies...and you still do your def poetry jams. Did they say that? I mean, did they mention that they thought..."
Artie takes Tina's hand.
"No, Tee. It's just me being...I don't know...paranoid. They really like you. My dad told me never to let you go."
"He's a smart guy," Tina says, blushing.
"Yeah, he is. Even if he believed up until a year ago that bunnies came out of eggs."
"WHAT?"
"I don't know...Easter?"
"You're Jewish."
"I know."
"Was I really talking in my sleep?"
"Hells yes."
"Does...that happen a lot? I'm starting to wonder if that's why everyone looked at me funny for the last two quarters of the school year. I mean, you know, after Mercedes's pre-Sectionals sleepover."
"Nobody looked at you funny."
"Santana looked at me funny."
"Santana looks at everyone funny."
"Did you know Santana's dad invented Toaster Strudels?"
"You're so full of crap, Tee."
"But...do I?"
"Do you what?" Artie says, scooping out the inside of his second Toaster Strudel with his finger. "LOOK! BLOODY HAAAAAANDS!"
"Hah. Do I talk in my sleep?
"I never noticed it before. Maybe you just have to be really tired. You could have done it at the party. I wouldn't know. I fell asleep before you."
"You fell asleep ON me. But...I mean...it was cute. You make little kissy noises in your sleep."
Artie consumes the innards of his Toaster Strudel. Tina rolls her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I should have asked if you wanted my strudel-guts."
"Sounds like one of those weird German compound nouns."
"I wouldn't be surprised if they have a word for the weird cheese remnants on the wrapper after you eat a burger from Mickey D's."
"Who?"
"The Germans. God, you're really distracted this morning."
"I'm a little lost..."
"If that sentence ends with 'in your eyes,' I'm gonna have to stop you there. We're getting so sappy, I could tap that and syrup would come out."
"Ew."
"Yeah, you're right, that is a little ew."
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"I have to be brave and deal with some dog yack, I'll be right back."
"That rhymes."
"Hah."
Tina heads down the hall into her bedroom. Artie wheels himself to the window. There's a hummingbird at the feeder with a blue splotch the exact color of Tina's extensions. He notices that Tina's parents have purchased some new patio furniture, including an eerily familiar chaise set.
"TEE?" Artie yells.
"YEAH, BABE?"
"DID YOUR PARENTS BUY THE SAME PATIO SET AS SHARON PUCKERMAN?"
"OH FUCK."
Tina cackles from the other room. Artie could listen to her laugh forever. Well, maybe not forever. He'd sort of like to talk with her in between. And make out. And she'd probably need to eat something at some point.
"HOW AMAZING WAS THE SEASON FINALE OF FELICIDAD?" Tina yells from the other room.
"I THOUGHT IT WAS KIND OF A COPOUT THAT THE WRITERS HAD FINLANDÉS, NOÉ AND GUILLERMO SAY 'I LOVE YOU' TO GIRLS THAT WEREN'T EVEN THEIR GIRLFRIENDS, AND ALL ARTURO AND VALENTINA GOT WAS SOME ADORABLE HAND TWIDDLING."
"DID YOU SEE GUILLERMO DURING 'PARA SEÑOR, CON AMOR,' THOUGH? ARTURO AND VALENTINA TOTALLY BUSTED OUT THEIR LINE AND HE GRINNED LIKE AN IDIOT. HE TOTALLY KNOWS WHAT THEY'RE UP TO!"
"TRUE. ARE YOU ALMOST DONE CLEANING UP THE DOG HORK? I WANNA GO OUTSIDE BEFORE IT GETS TOO SUNNY."
"WHY, DO YOU SPARKLE IN THE SUNLIGHT? I'M GETTING MY BATHING SUIT ON."
"BATHING SUIT?"
"YEAH, OWEN WON'T GO IN THE KIDDIE POOL UNLESS SOMEONE'S IN THERE WITH HIM, AND IT'S TOO SLIPPERY FOR YOU TO DO IT."
"THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID."
"FUNNY. SO YEAH, THAT AND I'D DIE OF HEATSTROKE IF I WENT OUTSIDE DRESSING ALL AVRIL LAVIGNE LIKE I NORMALLY DO."
"OK."
"DONE!"
Tina runs in from her bedroom and slides across the hardwood floor in her socks. She misjudges her trajectory and goes flying into Artie's chair.
"Why are you wearing socks, Tee?"
"I just bruised my vagina."
"I'm sorry...but why are you wearing socks?"
"I wanted to glide across the kitchen floor like a badass. But obviously," she says, "failed."
"It's OK. Where did you get this?" he asks, sliding his hand over her hip.
"My childbearing hips? Well, Bubbe Chang's got a small butt and...my mom's adopted, so...I don't know."
"I meant the bathing suit."
"Oh, this is an Evelyn Cohen-Chang 1983 original. I'm not sure if I'm totally into the one-strap-ness...I'm gonna get some weird tan lines."
"It looks fine. Allons-y!"
Tina whistles for the dog and the three of them head outside. Tina hands a bottle of sunscreen to Artie.
"Use this. I'm not into lobsters."
Artie pinches Tina's butt.
"Very funny."
---
Tina pulls the kiddie pool out from her father's shed.
"Why haven't we christened the shed?"
"Because there's a hornet's nest in there?"
"Oh."
Tina places the pool by the edge of the patio and pulls the hose out from behind a shrub.
"Hold my hose for a second?"
"That's what he said."
"Hold it away from you, we don't want to soak your chair."
"That's what she said."
"Come on, Artie, I'm trying to do this and you're making it hard."
"That's what he said."
"Oh God."
"That's what she said."
Tina storms off and goes back to the side of the house to turn the water on. When she returns to the patio, Artie has the hose positioned between his legs, because he's classy and mature.
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"Tee, I think he hates it."
"No, he just hates getting in. Once he realizes that he's not gonna drown....you see that? There he goes."
"He's trying to eat a butterfly."
"He's having fun. Good boy. Good puppy."
Tina takes Owen's face in her hands.
"I wuv you. I wuv you sooo sooo much my wittle dwoopy guy, dwoopy dwoopy guy. But quit horking on my boyfriend's clothes, aiight? Good baby. Good doggie."
"You're so good with him."
"He's my homie, Artie. He's a badass."
"Come sit with me when you're done."
"I can get out now that he's situated," Tina says, climbing out of the kiddie pool as Owen's tail swishes through the water.
"Want to stay in your chair or transfer to the chaise?"
"The chaise," he says, unbuckling himself. "I tried to rub all the sunscreen in but I might still be a little slick."
Tina slides Artie onto the chaise and puts out a towel for herself on the other one.
"I'm going to go get some stuff from the fridge so we don't get dehydrated. Any requests?"
"Orange juice?"
"Ew."
"Ew what? Orange juice is good."
"I don't trust drinks I can't see through."
"You can't see through grape juice, Tee."
"Yes, I can. I'm magic."
---
"Tee..."
"Yes, love?" Tina says, a glass of orange juice in one hand, a glass of lemonade in the other and a bag of Pirate's Booty under her left arm.
"Your seat has been usurped by a wet basset hound."
"Go. GO!"
Owen shuffles off dejectedly. Tina hands Artie the drinks and pushes her chaise next to him.
"Hand me the lemonade?"
He does and she drinks it all in one gulp.
"What? I was thirsty."
Artie turns his head towards Tina and greets her eyes with a very concerned look.
"How's your vagina?"
"What?"
"You bruised it when you Tom Cruised it across the floor."
"That rhymes...and....it's fine. Now don't get any ideas, we can't have a repeat of the Puckerman incident. Remember, I could escape from Puck's house. I can't escape from here. Not until I graduate. However, Betty and I appreciate your concern and we would love the company of the Righteous Blade of Equality at some point later tonight."
Tina closes her eyes. Artie grabs her hand and weaves her fingers in between his. He watches her chest rise and fall and unconsciously begins copying her breathing patterns. Her arm goes limp and he realizes she's fallen asleep.
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Artie reaches down to his right and grabs his backpack. He feels himself falling a little, but even in her sleep Tina's got a pretty good hold on him. He pulls out his notebook and begins a rough sketch of Owen floating about, using his gigantic pendulous ears as a propeller. Tina grips Artie's left hand tightly.
"Giiirrrrrlll," Tina groans, "you a hot mess, you a hot-ass mess."
Into the notebook.
A dragonfly lands on Tina's face. Artie leans over and blows it off of her.
"Nice breeze. Virgin Islands-y. Bahamanian. Arubian....mmm."
She releases her grip on his hand and begins slapping the side of the chaise.
"Artieartieartieartieartieartieartieartieartieartieartieartieartie."
He's been wondering when he was going to get a cameo in her sleep babble. He uses all of his strength to pull himself closer to her and rests his head on her shoulder.
"If weeeeeeeee don't get more duets before we graduate, I'ma fart in Mr. Schue's general direction at commencement. Hee!"
Keep them coming, Artie thinks, pulling the towel over their faces. He doesn't care if his legs get sunburnt, but he's worried that the sunlight might roast his eyes through his glasses like an ant through a magnifying glass.
"I wanna....do nothing for a little while. Get a house, make love, eat peanut butter on apple slices, RAISE BABY TURTLES!" Tina screams, waking herself up.
"Tee," Artie says, stroking her arm.
"What just happened?"
"You yelled at yourself."
"Where am I?"
"We're still on the patio. It was getting kind of hot so I put the towel over our heads."
"What did I say?"
"You called someone a hot-ass mess. You were talking about the breeze. You said my name about a bazillion times. You threatened to fart at Mr. Schue if we didn't get more duets. And then you planned for the future," he says, kissing her hand.
"The future? What'd I say?"
"You suggested we get a house, make love, eat apple slices with peanut butter on them and then raise baby turtles."
"Baby turtles?"
"You screamed the last part."
"I guess I just really like baby turtles."
"They grow up, you know. Into big turtles. Maybe we should go inside. I think your dog may have melted."
---
"It seems like whatever we do," Artie says, "we always end up in your bed."
Tina giggles.
"So our activities are a little circuitous, so what? It's not like we don't have fun," she says, poking him in the forehead.
"You do know I can transfer myself into your bed, right?"
"Yeah," she blushes, "but I like helping. Makes me feel closer to you."
"What time is it?"
Tina looks up at the clock on her wall.
"Quarter to 12. Gives us time for a little nap, then lunch, then whatever, then dinner, then you know..."
"Nap? Jesus, Tee. You were asleep literally ten minutes ago."
"The heat makes me tired."
"I'm worried that you might be sick or something. Like mono. If you have mono, I have mono."
"You can't get it twice and I had it in the seventh grade."
"Who the hell were you kissing in the seventh grade?"
"NOBODY! I shared a soda with my friend Heather."
"Well, is something upsetting you? I mean, are you worried about getting into college? Is there some sort of family thing? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, no and definitely not," Tina says, wrapping her legs around Artie.
"We should go to a doctor. Maybe you have, like, a vitamin deficiency. I mean, maybe you need more infusions of Vitamin A, wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more..."
"I have a VERY balanced diet," Tina pouts.
"I know that," Artie says, "but maybe you're not absorbing all of your nutrients. You're young, you shouldn't be this tired."
"I'm fiiiiine," she says, nibbling his shoulder.
"Unf...Jesus, Tee."
"Wake me up when you want to make lunch. I have some spinach and gorgonzola and walnuts in the fridge....we could make salads," she says before nodding off.
"Tee," Artie says, worriedly running his fingers through her hair, "I hope you're OK."
He lies back, feeling her every heartbeat. Five minutes go by, then ten, then fifty. His stomach begins to growl. Tina stirs.
"Baby?"
"Yeah, Tee?"
"Xylophone....buggery."
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