Cora was pouring over her computer like a temperamental tea pot. He fingers clicked wildly across the keyboard so that it sounded like a mini hail storm. The glow of the screen was the only light in the living room, casting shadows on her weary face. She bit down on the tip of her tongue as if she were squeezing out thinking juices.
“Cora?”
Her body shook as if somehow had electrocuted her in the dark. The light flicked on and there stood Pete, the same embarrassed look across his face, his hand folded in front of him, resting against his stomach. His hair had made its way into his face like a black wave of feathers. He smiled with the corner of his mouth, but his eyes looked weak and scared.
“Yes? Can I get you something?” She answered, not acknowledging her previous surprise.
“Well, I just…” His eyes were at the floor, there was a hole forming in the toe of his sock.
Cora stood up and waved him into the kitchen. “I’ll make tea.”
“Cool.” He said with his eyes still not looking up.
Cora began running water into the metal teapot. She reached over and flicked the burner on high.
“So, getting some writing done?” She said with her eyes on the teapot.
“You have a tattoo.” He said.
“What?” Cora’s eyes were now on him. He sat at the table, hands folded in front of him on a placemat. His hair was pushed back, showing off his muddy brown eyes.
Her free hand automatically landed on her back, just were her jeans started. She could feel her shirt had ridded up, exposing a butterfly with a pencil for a body pressed onto her skin.
“College does things to you.” She laughed lightly. She switched the water off before it overflowed out of the pot. Her hand got wet.
“Lost your virginity back then?”
She almost braced herself on the burner. “Excuse me?”
“In college?” He said.
“I don’t think we should be talking about this, Pete.”
“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I…it was just. I say stupid things…when I’m nervous.”
Cora shook her head, unsure what else to do.
“What were you writing? Before I mean.”
“Nothing.”
“You’re into it, aren’t you?” He said.
“Huh?”
“Writing. You always look at other peoples stuff, but in all honesty it’s what you want to do.”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Cora said, racing to the door.
“I saw a rabbit in there once.”
She turned to him. “What?”
“In a crack on the tile above the towel rack, I saw a rabbit. I wrote about him last night.”
“Watch the tea for a moment,” and she disappeared into the entry bathroom.
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