So whatchya wanna do now?

That whole day she had said he needed to get out of his comfort zone more, that it’d be for his own good. She seemed to get a kick out of embarrasing him and the more uncomfortable she made him, the more she relished it.

ONE MOMENT TO THE NEXT BY DAVID LANGLINAIS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 122

Jack and Karen walk out of the café into a brisk winter twilight. “Look what I found on the way out,” she says. She hands a bottle of wine to Jack, and then takes off running down the sidewalk.

“Goddamn it, you little shit,” Jack says, and he chases after her. “Why’d you do that?” he asks.

“You said you wanted more wine,” she laughs.

“I didn’t say anything about stealing it,” Jack says.

“This is the thanks I get?”

Jack had met Karen only the night before but he can tell she’s only acting hurt. “So whatchya wanna do now?”

“I don’t know.”

“You hungry yet?”

“Not really. You?”

Drinking wine makes Jack hungry, it always has, and he’s hungry. “Let me know when you get hungry,” he says. “We can go to that sushi place.”

They walk on holding hands. Her hand is the softest hand he’s ever felt. It feels like a baby’s hand might feel, he supposes having never held a baby’s hand.

Karen squeezes Jack’s hand harder than he squeezes hers, but he knows what she’s up to and he squeezes too until the bones under the silky skin of her tiny fingers grind together.

“Ow,” Karen laughs, and she pulls her hand away. She holds it in her other hand and looks at it, as if it’s not her hand, but someone else’s. “That hurt like shit, Jack.”

She pinches him hard on the butt and then runs down the sidewalk, squealing in a way that excites something in Jack. He takes off after her.

He’s laughing hard, laughing out loud. He catches up with her and his head spins. He has a hard time breathing the thin cold air.

After a moment, Karen is on her toes, reaching up for Jack to hold her. “Kiss me, kiss me,” she says.

They kiss for a long time. When they pull apart, they stare at each other and smile.