"Small Talk"

"Small Talk"

The room is austere in its plainness. The walls are unadorned with windows and a couple high ceiling fans. Christine, or CJ, as her friends call her, is lying in bed with her boyfriend, Nick. CJ is the stereotypical young woman in college: young, single, pretty, popular and extremely intelligent and responsible for her age. She is a vibrant 19 year old.

Nick, on the other hand, is at a crossroads. Dark haired, muscular, and aloof. He is the type of guy that scares the daylights out of people, but attracts attention anyway and knows how to keep friends and lovers through a combination of charm, a dry, biting sense of humor, and emotional sabotage.

Nick and CJ have been going out as a couple for eight months now, although CJ has been distant lately, which makes her typically morose boyfriend stand up and take notice. The time for small talk has ended. Reality is poised too take its toll.

CJ awoke the the blare of the alarm clock. "Eight o'clock already? Fuck," she said. She pushed Nick on the back several times. "Time to get up, sleepyhead," she said. She got up and ran her fingers through her blonde hair.

"Whuu..?," came the response. CJ rolled her eyes and stood beside the bed, arms folded. "C'mon, it's Monday morning. I need to get ready for work." Nick sat up in bed and rubbed his eys sleepily. "You still have an hour, honey. Why don't you come back to bed?," he replied slyly.

CJ laughed, "Why do guys always have to have their minds in the gutter?," she asked half jokingly. Nick smiled and raised a questioning eyebrow. "What's a matter with a little quality time with the woman I love?," he asked with mock cynicism.

CJ went to the bathroom and quietly undressed and turned the shower on. "You don't really love me like that, Nick. You just love my ass," she yelled back at him with a hearty laugh. Nick frowned and yelled, "You know, I wasn't always that way," he said discouraged. At that moment, CJ looked down at her breasts and muttered, "Ain't that the truth. At least he's got his hand if he ever gets lonely."

Copyright: 2009, by Raymund Diaz Delizo