Match Me, Matchmaker

Chapter 3: Falling Laptops and Evening Guests

I look for any sign of escape whilst Michael slowing walks towards me.

"If you don't give me that laptop, I will wrestle you for it," he threatens.

I gulp. He could take me down.

Oh, God, really Jersey?

"I can just read the names to you." I smile, hoping my adorableness will make him not tackle me.

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Well, you'll just have to believe me."

"How come I can't read them myself?"

Think, think, think. "Uh..." I trail off. Come on... think!

Carefully, I inch my laptop closed, and try to pull it under my shirt. His ocean, blue orbs suddenly flick away from my eyes and land on my laptop being smothered. His straight face slowly forms into a smile. And then, the worst possible scenario, his perfectly white, straight teeth are revealed, and he's laughing.

Oh, good, God.

"Jersey, are you seriously smothering your laptop?" He says inbetween laughs.

"Hey! What else am I suppose to do?" I try to stay serious, but I can't help. His laugh is so light and happy. I find myself bursting into a fit of laughter.

"You said you would tackle me if I didn't show you your results," I protest as I catch my breath.

His eyes move between the laptop and my eyes. "Oh, yeah," and he lunges forward.

I scream and jump out of his reach. My legs wobble as I try to get to my living room, and right when I regain balance, my foot slips on one of my shirts on my floor, and I fall right on my ass. Whilst falling, I also hit my chin on my laptop and let go of it, making it skid across the hardwood.

"Oh, Lord. I literally almost knocked myself out with my laptop."

I hear Michael's laughter in the back. A small smile erupts on my lips, but then, I realize that this is the bastard's trick. He's all cute and adorable, and then- bang! Like literally. Banging some girl is all he craves, not a relationship. I huff and start crawling towards my best friend, my laptop, laying on the floor. However, as I scoot over to it, I hear the thump of footsteps.

"I don't think so," I hear Michael yell as he comes running up behind me. And, before I can react, the laptop is scooped up in his arms.

"No!" I dive over and catch his leg as he tries running away. I pull the rest of my body to him so that I'm like a monkey wrapped around his leg.

"Jersey, get the f-" He starts, but instead of being able to finish his profanity, another voice and the sound of a fist banging on the door comes into play.

"Jersey! Open this damned door!" Marly.

"Marly? Marly! Help me!" I yell, but as I say help, Michael tries to get away, but my grip is so strong that he loses his grip on my laptop, and- poof, a Humpty Dumpty moment. I scream, and unlatch myself from his leg and throw my body to where my laptop's death awaits. And then, the cold, silver rectangle hits me in the stomach. But, of course, I have to hurt myself in the process.

"Shit, Jersey!" Michael warns as his towering body starts to fall forward from my superman, diving move. Before he even gets anywhere with his fall, I bring one of my legs up to try and stop him from plummeting, which would be on top of me, however.... I aim just a tad too low.

There used to be this show called American's Funniest Home Videos. And in this show, the host would showcase all of these hilarious videos. Therefore, there were a lot of little boys and a lot of dads, and let's just say, the little boy would have a bat. So, these idiot dads would pitch the ball and then- boom, they'd get hit with a line drive right to the nuts. Every single damn time. So, when these idiot men would get hit in the balls, they'd make that 'oof' sound, and grab their jewels-not sure why, but either way, that's exactly what happened, except... with my foot.