Page 122 of Debugging Love

“Where are the Hello Kitties?”

“Oh. I have my expensive collectables on the bookshelf. The rest is mostly in my bedroom. Enter at your own risk.”

“Mind if I peek?”

“Nope.”

We set our DIYDepot haul onto the table, she digs into the food again, and I poke my head into her bedroom where everything is pink and white and Hello Kitty, from the pillows on her bed, to the decor on the walls, to the rug on the floor, and the blankets, all of it, surprisingly, tastefully done. I feel like I stepped through a portal into a bedroom in Tokyo.

“What do you think?” she asks when I join her at the table.

I grab a napkin and two samosas and go to work. “I actually like it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“One day I might decide to grow up.”

“Don’t.”

We eat and drink and talk about work, mostly about Christopher leaving and how a crappy boss can wreck the entire vibe of an office. We agree that Bruce should apply for the position and turn the big conference room into a permanent Skittle Pong court.

With our stomachs full, we’re ready to start clearing the bookshelves. Heavy stuff first. Then medium. Then light. That way, nothing gets squashed. I pull the chaise lounge out of the way and then grab a couple of large hardbacks on the bottom shelf. Danni goes straight for her collection of Hello Kitty figurines.

“We should do those last,” I say. “Heavy stuff first.”

“Why?”

“Because stacking things by weight, heaviest first, makes the most sense.”

Her right eyebrow springs up. “I’m putting these in my bedroom on my dresser.”

“Oh. Yeah. You could do that.”

“I know I can.”

She transports the figurines two at a time while I clear the bottom shelves. She moves on to the second shelf but I suggest we do the top next.

“Why?”

“Because we don’t want the bookshelves to get top heavy.”

“You started with the bottom shelf.”

“Because you wisely placed the heaviest stuff on the bottom.”

“And the heaviest stuff goes first.”

I tap the end of her nose. “Bingo.”

Danni grabs her phone and scrolls for some music. She settles on Tom Petty, which is a wise compromise, and then we make good progress on the top two shelves. When we hit the middle shelf, I decide to speed things along by placing several books, notepads, and binders in a pile to carry over to the couch. As I’m headed that way, a binder slides off the top and splays open.

Hearing the thud, Danni glances my way. She runs over, grabs the binder, thwaps it closed, and hugs it to her chest.

“Is that where you keep the recipes for your potions?” I ask.

She hugs the binder tighter. “More embarrassing than that.”

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