10 Things I hate About Her (10 Things #1)

15. Lover's Spat

A floating island counter in the kitchen stood between Naomi and the entryway. Shimmering clean plates and cups waited in the dish rack next to the sink. She glanced at the time on the microwave held between two overhead cabinets. Satisfied, she focused on her duty. She had another two hours before her mother got home from work. Steeling herself for battle, she raised the plastic gun, a drop of water slid down her finger frozen on the trigger. The silence was broken only by her gentle breathing. If Val wanted to get her, there was a single entrance, and Naomi would be ready. "Val?" she called.

She waited for the rush of footsteps across the wooden flow but there was none. She knew Val was waiting somewhere out there. Beyond the seemingly empty hallway, Val had prepared the perfect attack. Well, Naomi wouldn't leave, she was far too smart to be pulled out of her position by elementary tactics. "Val?" she said slowly. Hearing nothing, she tiptoed towards the door, slow and steady as to not make any noise.

She was at the edge of the cupboard, any farther and she would be an open target. She peered through the archway, spotting dark shadows of furniture in the hallway. Val had drawn the drapes and turned the lights off to hinder her visibility. Somewhere out there, Val lay in waiting. Like a tiger before it pounced on its prey. 

Another ten minutes passed. Naomi dipped her head and burst into the hallway. She got a glimpse of Val's profile pressed against the wall and cursed herself for being rash. Water hit her back in a powerful jet and soaked her shirt. She turned and found Val pointing the gun at her face. Val's lips twisted into an amused smirk. "Well, well," she said, "what do we have here?"

Naomi pointed the barrel of her gun at Val's head. "You tell me."

"Don't you know it's against the law to trespass into someone else's house?"

Naomi played along. "Joan Watson, FBI, I'm here to arrest you for drug trafficking."

"Really?" Val stepped forward and placed a hand against the wall right next to Naomi's head. "Then I dare you to."

Naomi's pulse slowed for a moment, caught unaware. She quickly recovered and kicked Val's leg, attempting to trip Val. Val stayed upright, her face scrunched up from the effort of withstanding the blow. She tackled Naomi to ground and pinned her to the floor. Naomi's elbows hit the ground hard, her grip on the gun loosening, and then it fell. Val kicked it away, drawing a broken strip of water on the wood. "You're not very good at this," Val said, smiling. She aimed again and fired a fresh stream of water into Naomi's face.

The water was freezing and sent a sudden chill through her bones. It stung her eyes and crawled up her nostrils. "Jerk," Naomi spat and punched Val in the stomach.

She felt the muscle beneath Val's hoody. Val winced and doubled over, gasping. "Damn, that actually hurt," she muttered. While she was recovering, Naomi stole the gun from her slackened grasp.

Val held up her hands in an attempt to block, but the water slapped her face through the gaps. Wet, and clearly pissed, Val tried to recover the gun, but Naomi flipped the brown skinned girl beneath her. She brushed matted hair away from Val's eyes to reveal a piercing glare. Val struggled to sit up, but Naomi pushed her down. "Now, who sucks at this?"

Dark splotches of grey riddled Val's hoody from where the water hit. Val chuckled, the tremors racing down the length of her body to where Naomi sat on her abdomen. She said, "Alright, I surrender." She held her hands up. Naomi squirted the gun once more and Val spread the water across her face, sweeping her hair back to reveal her forehead.

"You look sort of good like that," Naomi noted.

"A young Ryan Gosling?"

"Ew, I prefer David Beckham," Naomi said.