Across the Brooklyn Bridge

5

4:28 PM - 18th February 2015

"We're playing what?"

IN THE COMFORT OF THE apartment's cozy living room, Arielle vocalizes her unvarnished detestation against Remy's suggestion for the afternoon's choice of activity. It's a tradition for apartment 12B to host a certain leisure venture, once a month, for any enthusiastic volunteers. Arielle, however, doesn't seem to be one of them.

"Dodge ball," Remy repeats, impassive to the rigid reluctance radiating off Arielle's, conventionally, calm exterior. She looks like she's ready to shove a red dodgeball in a place that even Remy won't like. "I live with three girls. Every month, I welcome your choice of activity whether it's laser tag or getting a manicure. Now it's my turn". In the corner of the room, sunken deep into a leather love seat, Sutton grumbles indistinct words of disagreement towards Remy's stereotypical declaration. They've never gone to get a manicure, regardless of Arielle's incessant proposals.

"Why on Earth, would I voluntarily play dodge ball?" Arielle exclaims and out of pure exasperation, drops backwards on the couch with a loud huff. She folds her arms over her chest and scowls, like a stubborn five year old being denied her favoruite doll. "For crying out loud, they used to call me blues clues because I bruised so easily". At that, even Jules can't help a small humored smile. Remy, theatrically, howls with laughter, slapping his knee. Jules can never really understand if Remy's responses to Arielle are sarcastic or just unfeigned amusement.

At that moment, Billie saunters into the room. Remy's attention span is immediately cut to its minimum as he swings his arms around the girl's legs, dragging her onto the couch with him. Arielle's scowl deepens and she's, shockingly, accepted the bitter conclusion of the monthly roommate gathering.

"I used to be a gymnast in school," Billie mumbles, possibly to herself. Whilst these words leave the room in a momentary stillness, Jules watches Remy's face contort with impudence.

"That's why I'm getting cirque-de-so-laid," finding himself funnier than any existing meme on the Internet, Remy doubles over with laughter. Billie rolls her eyes, seemingly used to the cheeky remarks that embody Remy's character. Anyone who has spend 30, regretful minutes of their lives alongside the infamous Casanova would know not to lay any un-intentional innuendoes on a table. But with him, anything really, can be transformed for improper jokes.

"God, you watch too much tv," Sutton sighs and pushes herself from the seat, satiated by her roommate's predictability. Even she knows that Remy isn't that funny. Taking from her little knowledge on television series, Jules assumes that Remy's latest obsession with a certain fictional character has started to exert influence on his behavior. Thus, before smacking him on the back of his head, Jules voices her reaction.

"We need a douchebag jar."

She departs to her room, with Remy's yells of complaint echoing after her, as she falls backwards onto the consolation of her bed. Seconds later, Sutton slips through the agape bedroom door and matches Julianne's position on the bed. The two girls lie silently next to each other, until Sutton abruptly jerks to her side to face Jules her profile.

"You should invite Charlie," she states, decidedly. Her suggestion is, in every respect, random and entirely anomalous. Jules had barely even mentioned the existence of her newest associate and Sutton is already musing on an invitation to their monthly activities.

"To play dodge ball?"

"No, to go fishing," Sutton says, her eyes displaying monotony, her voice laced in sarcasm, "Yes, of course to play dodge ball, it'll be fun." But what truly defines the phrase 'fun'. Sutton's naivety is founded in good-intentions. She means no harm. Yet inviting the person that has sent Julianne's mindset into a thoroughgoing madhouse doesn't give the impression of being delightful. Thus, Jules embarks on a venture of excuses to sabotage this horrid idea.