Page 98 of Something Rad
We play this game for thirty or so more seconds, me tickling Cooper, her moaning and groaning, and me adding in my own sound effects where I see fit, until we’re both on the verge of breathless and, much like I predicted, the party outside clearly seems to have gotten bored, the normal hum of scattered mingling and music returning.
Cooper shoves me away once and for all, and I let her, holding my hands up in defeat.
“Satisfied?” she demands.
“Not at all,” I reply. “But I’d say they are.”
“Well, I guess that’s all that matters then,” she quips.
“Isn’t it?” I ask.
She blows out a frustrated breath. “Whatdid I say about enclosed spaces?”
“You say a lot of things, Cooper. Especially complaints and demands. It’s hard to keep up at times.”
I can sense her pacing in front of me. “One closet per week with you is more than enough for me.”
“Oh, so you want to make this a regular thing?” I ask. “What time in your little red diary do you want to pencil me in for next week?”
She stops pacing. I don’t know how I know. I guess I can just feel it. “It’s not a diary,” she says. “Or anagendafor that matter.”
“What is it then?”
“What itisis none of your business,” she snaps.
“What’s the big deal–”
“Let it go.”
I let out a scoff. “Fine.”
“Fine,” Cooper echoes me.
We each step backwards, getting as far apart as two people in one small closet can get from each other. A few seconds go by, and I hear what sounds like Cooper sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. I wait a few seconds, and then do the same, not wanting her to think I did it just because she did because I’m in an immature mood apparently. She huffs out a breath anyways.
We stay quiet for a little bit, and let me tell you, silence in pure darkness seems significantly longer and is much more painful. I try to look at my watch to check how much time we have left, then shake my head at myself, remembering that it’s dark and I can’t.
I’m about to break. I don’t think I’ve ever gone this long without speaking in my life. But surprisingly, I don’t have to. Cooper breaks first.
“Can I ask you a question?” she says, an odd tone to her voice that I can’t place.
“Knock yourself out, Cooper.”
“Why do you even like Denise?”
My mouth falls open, and I’m suddenly thankful we’re sitting in the dark. “What do you mean?” I ask her.
“She’s kinda awful.”
I snort, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Yeah, and you’re a total walk in the park, Cooper.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds, and I find myself swallowing, my throat tight all of the sudden. “Just forget it,” she finally says.
“No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “Look, I…I don’t know. I just do.”
“You just…do?”
“Yeah,” I nod to myself. “I mean, I know she’s not always the most pleasant person to be around. She has basically no filter and is a little full of herself–”
