Last Night

Part 2

The controller in my hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it scrolled down to his name on my friends list: Monkeyfarts13. The tiniest half-chuckle escaped my lips. It was just as ridiculous of a name now as it was when he'd first created it.

I sighed and clicked on the username: last on more than two years ago.

My heart splintered and tears pushed to the edge of my eyelids.

Of course, it would say that. I don't know why I even looked. Flicking back over to the sign in page, I selected the ridiculous name that evoked my pitiful laugh. I'd been trying to figure out his password for the last year and had nothing to show for it.

Please enter password: _______________

I tried several favorite band names and previous sport team numbers, but each was rejected.

I'd even tried the first password that he created on his own: 1_2_buckle_shoe.

Really I just tried that out of exasperation. I was certain after more than five years of gaming he'd decide to change it, even if there wasn't a massive hack that forced everyone to make a new password. I thought I knew him well enough to figure this out, but I didn't want to lock his account so I stopped trying and shut off the system.

I could probably call the company and get them to help me, but who knew if they'd believe me. They may get bullshit calls all the time with people trying to steal other gamers' accounts or more specifically their credit card information.

Surely I'd figure it out sooner or later.

The doorbell rang and I set the controller on the coffee table before walking over to see who it was.

Peeking through the spyhole, I only saw a big set of slightly crooked teeth, stained from coffee and possibly marred by an errant clump of mushed up chives. It could've been green onions for all I knew though.

A soft chuckle escaped me as I unlocked and opened the door. "You're early, Emily."

"A Perez always arrives precisely when she or he intends." She stood there, one tawny hand defiantly posed on her slim hip that jutted out to appear more substantial. She was a tiny, little thing compared to my towering five feet eight inches, but that never stopped her from bossing me around. "Well, unless we're referring to my little sister. Always expect her at least fifty minutes to an hour late in that case."

"Noted, luckily I don't often deal with her."

Emily swung the Chinese take-out bag from her other hand and smiled, brightly for me. "You're lucky then."

I tried to hold back my snicker, but the prominent evidence of her taste-testing stuck out more. "So, do the crab rangoons meet your approval? Because you wear them well."

Her smile vanished while her tongue proceeded to scour her teeth for the offending flakes of food. "They're delicious, but I'll admit this place is heavy-handed with the chives and pepper. Did I get it all?"

My shoulders shook as I continued to laugh at her now clean smile. "Spotless, more or less."

Leaning back and pushing the door open all the way, I motioned for her to come in. While I shut the door behind her, she made herself at home and dished out our portions evenly.

I glanced over at my recently emptied trashcan. The cream towel from the other night was impossibly stained red so I'd thrown it out, partially because I didn't need anyone, aka Emily, asking me what the stain was from. She would've freaked if she saw how much blood had dripped from my hair onto it.