Boys Will Be...
Deb grunted and let out a muffled curse as she had to shove her shoulder into Rob's door a few times to get it open. She hated that door.
"Robbie? It's Deb." Though saying it was her was probably unnecessary, it was borne out of habit. Though she'd never say it to him, she hoped for the day where separate apartments wouldn't even be necessary. But. She shrugged to herself. "Rob?" She turned into the kitchen and stopped short. The kitchen table was strewn with small sticks of plastic. "What the hell?"
"Hey Deb! I discovered something!"
"What, a previously untapped vein of plastic toothpicks in the cupboard?"
"Cute. No, this morning I ended up absorbing part of my keyboard."
"You what?"
"No, it's okay!"
"How the hell is that okay?"
Rob gestured to the toothpicks on the table. it took a moment to click but, "Holy... you...?"
He grinned and nodded. He looked for all the world like a kid with a new toy. "How?"
He shrugged, his smile not dimming. "Dunno, don't care. Watch, I think this will be all the plastic." He held up his index finger and slowly, the tip sharpened and lengthened, all the while, the shiny color fading from his finger. Soon, sure enough, he had a plastic toothpick sticking out of his finger. With a sharp tug, he pulled it off and tossed it to the table. It clattered among the others. "Crazy, huh?"
"That's one word for it. How did you figure how to do that?"
He thought for a second. "As stupid as this sounds, I got some roast beef stuck in my teeth and really wanted a toothpick." He shrugged.
"That's lame, Rob. You know that right?"
"Maybe. It's still cool." He sounded slightly defensive.
Deb rolled her eyes and came up next to him. She picked up one of the sticks and examined it. "Sure does look like a toothpick. Odd. From keyboard keys to toothpicks?"
"Yeah, I know. I haven't tried with my right arm yet. Larry drove me to the hospital after it happened. Marqea was rather insistent that I basically bend over to whoever caused this." He sighed, the frustration evident. Deb's heart went out to him, as it always did.
"What are you going to do?"
"I honestly don't know. I have to do something though. At least I don't feel like I'm in danger of losing myself anymore."
"Oh Robbie, why didn't you tell me you felt that way?"
He waved her concern away. "Didn't want to worry you."
She socked him in the shoulder, "Dumbass. I'm your friend. I worry regardless, just like you would." She slugged him again for good measure.
"You done, Rocky?" She made a face at him. "I appreciate it. I do, but this kinda blew my mind. And now, well..."
"Blown again?"
"Oh yeah," he blew out a sigh.
She sat down and looked up at him. "Sit." He did. "Rob, just take deep breaths. We'll get through this."
He nodded. "Yeah. I know we will, Deb. I know we will."
"Robbie? It's Deb." Though saying it was her was probably unnecessary, it was borne out of habit. Though she'd never say it to him, she hoped for the day where separate apartments wouldn't even be necessary. But. She shrugged to herself. "Rob?" She turned into the kitchen and stopped short. The kitchen table was strewn with small sticks of plastic. "What the hell?"
"Hey Deb! I discovered something!"
"What, a previously untapped vein of plastic toothpicks in the cupboard?"
"Cute. No, this morning I ended up absorbing part of my keyboard."
"You what?"
"No, it's okay!"
"How the hell is that okay?"
Rob gestured to the toothpicks on the table. it took a moment to click but, "Holy... you...?"
He grinned and nodded. He looked for all the world like a kid with a new toy. "How?"
He shrugged, his smile not dimming. "Dunno, don't care. Watch, I think this will be all the plastic." He held up his index finger and slowly, the tip sharpened and lengthened, all the while, the shiny color fading from his finger. Soon, sure enough, he had a plastic toothpick sticking out of his finger. With a sharp tug, he pulled it off and tossed it to the table. It clattered among the others. "Crazy, huh?"
"That's one word for it. How did you figure how to do that?"
He thought for a second. "As stupid as this sounds, I got some roast beef stuck in my teeth and really wanted a toothpick." He shrugged.
"That's lame, Rob. You know that right?"
"Maybe. It's still cool." He sounded slightly defensive.
Deb rolled her eyes and came up next to him. She picked up one of the sticks and examined it. "Sure does look like a toothpick. Odd. From keyboard keys to toothpicks?"
"Yeah, I know. I haven't tried with my right arm yet. Larry drove me to the hospital after it happened. Marqea was rather insistent that I basically bend over to whoever caused this." He sighed, the frustration evident. Deb's heart went out to him, as it always did.
"What are you going to do?"
"I honestly don't know. I have to do something though. At least I don't feel like I'm in danger of losing myself anymore."
"Oh Robbie, why didn't you tell me you felt that way?"
He waved her concern away. "Didn't want to worry you."
She socked him in the shoulder, "Dumbass. I'm your friend. I worry regardless, just like you would." She slugged him again for good measure.
"You done, Rocky?" She made a face at him. "I appreciate it. I do, but this kinda blew my mind. And now, well..."
"Blown again?"
"Oh yeah," he blew out a sigh.
She sat down and looked up at him. "Sit." He did. "Rob, just take deep breaths. We'll get through this."
He nodded. "Yeah. I know we will, Deb. I know we will."
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