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„I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be." - Douglas Adams |from „The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul"
•••
Clean up the sports utility closet coach said. It'll be easy extra credit he said.
What he didn't say was that the door to the closet was old and janky. What he didn't say was that the door had a habit of not opening once it had been shut. All she had to say was fuck the coach and fuck this goddamn door.
"Hello?!" she yells, pounding on the door with both of her fists. Unfortunately the only shitty part of the door was the lock. The rest of it was strong as steel.
„Lara?" a voice asks, moving closer to the door.
"Monty?" she asks in surprise, pressing her ear against the door. This was just fantastic.
Montgomery De La Cruz of all people. Her on-again-off-again on-the-down-low hook up of all people.
"What're you doing?" he inquires, tapping on the door with his fingers. "I'm stuck! Help me!" she shouts, hitting the door with her fist. She reels back fast, the impact hurting a lot more than she thought it would.
"Why are you in there in the first place?" his voice rings through. He's muffled because of the barrier, but she can still make out a mischievous undertone laced in his words.
"I didn't do so great on the last test, so coach said he'd give me extra credit if I cleaned out the sports utility closet," she sighs, kicking at the door this time to give her fists a break.
"Why didn't you do so great? You're smart, you always do well," he smirks, knowing exactly why she didn't do well.
"Because the only thing I was studying was your anatomy you ass hat!" she yells impulsively, instantly covering her mouth. She can't see what's going on outside.
Half the baseball team could be there for all she knows, but thankfully the only laugh she hears is Monty's, so he must be alone. "That means it's half your fault that I'm stuck in here."
"That's fair," he shrugs, "What do I get if I get you out?"
"I'm gonna slap that smirk off of your face," she snaps.
"You really shouldn't be getting temperamental with the person who can save your ass," he tsks, jiggling the handle with his hand, "And you know, my lips won't kiss themselves."
"Pick up lines only work when I'm drunk," she rolls her eyes.
"Oh I remember," he grins, unintentionally drawing his bottom lip between his teeth.
