Monochrome

Round One

"Don't pull that on me," the guy said.

"Pull what on you?" said Ingrid.

"You know I can't fight you for the remote. If I touch you, you'll probably call it sexual harassment."

"If you touch me, I'll punch you in the neck."

"Either way, there's nothing I can do to get the remote back."

"Exactly. So you might as well sit back and enjoy the game."

This was the key moment. Either the guy would make a grab for the remote or he'd give up and walk out. If he was smart, he'd pick the second option. But either was fine with Ingrid.

Instead, though, he just watched her. Thinking. At least, that's what she thought he was doing. She refused to keep looking at him. At some point UT turned the ball over and she heard the guy sigh.

"Okay," he said.

She didn't know what this "okay" meant, but she didn't like the way it sounded. It wasn't the fight she was expecting.

She said, "Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll watch it with you."

"It wasn't an invitation."

"You told me to watch it, and I'm watching it. With you, which means we're watching it together."

She laughed once, without humor. "No, we're not. You're watching it on your half of the couch and I'm watching it on mine." After she said this, though, she realized it wasn't exactly true. His "half" of the couch was more like eighty percent, and she was wedged in between him and the cushion on the end. "Actually, move over, would you?"

He pretended to mull this over. Then he said, "No, I think I like sitting right here. It's cozier."

"Listen, jerk. You'd better move your ass over right now-"

"Hey, you're the one who squeezed in next to me."

Ingrid's jaw clenched. She would have given one of her brothers a pair of purple nurples for behavior like this, but this guy wasn't her brother. She refused to let him get to her, though. Instead, she turned her attention to the football game and very deliberately ignored the geek who had her crammed into the very corner of the couch.

He seemed to be obliging, at first. For a minute or two he was quiet, and that was long enough to get engrossed in the Baylor possession. But right when Baylor reached the red zone, the guy decided it was time to start yakking.

"By the way, I'm Adam."

Ingrid said nothing.

"What's your name?" he said.

"Lorena Bobbitt."

"So, Lorena, what's the deal with that guy in the middle? Do you think he likes having that other guy up behind him like that?"

She had to smile. "Let me save you some trouble. If you're trying to annoy me into giving up the TV, you should know that I have four little brothers. Four. And every one of them smells worse than you."

"Thanks."

"The point is I've had my hair pulled, my nose picked, and my feet licked. I've put up with tickling, screaming, and farting, sometimes all at once. There is nothing you can do to make me walk away from this television."

"What if I told you that Foot Locker was offering a pain-in-the-ass discount for one day only?"

"Then I'd tell you to hurry on down there and take advantage of it."