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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2227139
and a slice of cake ... go a long way. DIALOGU ONLY STORY for Cramp. All Words: 654
"I'm so sorry!"

"Oh, no, that's fine -- er -- now that you're here, come in."

"I really am so sorry."

"That's fine. Listen, please come in and close that door."

"I'm sorry. I'll shut my eyes now."

"If you're okay with me in a towel, open your eyes."

"I thought this was Sam's room. I wanted to surprise him."

"It used to be Sam's room till the day-before-yesterday. We switched rooms because he wanted to be closer to the library, he does tend to carry loads of books."

'He should've told me. Gosh, I'm so embarrassed."

"It's me that should be embarrassed, and I'm not."

"It's me that barged into your room while you were ... were ..."

"Stepping out of the shower, stark naked. So I'm the one that was naked. What've you got to be embarrassed about?"

"You know ... I mean ..."

"Why did you want to surprise Sam, anyway?"

"Just that I'd made his favourite lasagna, and I brought some over."

"Ah. Now if you wanted to make up for the embarrassment you caused me ..."

"Sure, sure, you can have it. I brought cake, too."

"How lovely. And I have plates and spoons and forks. I think we're all set for a great lunch."

"What about Sam?"

"He isn't on campus just now. Some of those brainy ones have been taken for a special conference or seminar or something. If this HAD been Sam's room, you would've found it empty. They're lunching there."

"I should've called him. It's just that I wanted to surprise him."

"You wound up surprising me instead. Or yourself. Oh, that lasagna smells so good."

"Help yourself."

"You first."

"If you insist."

"Ah, now me. Nice big helping. Oh, this so so good. Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"My parents own a restaurant. I've grown up with ingredients and recipes and perfection on a plate."

"Your parents own a restaurant? My goodness, your boyfriend is a lucky guy. TO have a girlfriend like you and free food at her parents' joint."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Why not?"

"It's rude to ask personal questions. And to speak with your mouth full."

"If this is going to be a lesson in manners, it's rude to walk in on a guy when he's stepped out of the shower stark naked."

"Yes, I am to blame for that. Guess I can't teach anyone manners about asking personal questions."

"So -- why don't you have a boyfriend?"

"The right guy just didn't come along."

"What about Sam, whom you were going to surprise with lasagna and cake? Isn't he a candidate?"

"Ah, he's a grade-school friend. He's a dear, but we're not in a romantic relationship. He helps me with studying sometimes. He's brainy."

"And you like the brainy sort?"

"If I liked the brainy sort, Sam would've been my boyfriend."

"One up for me, then, I'm not the brainy sort."

"You?"

"Yeah. I consider myself a candidate to be your boyfriend. Especially after tasting this absolutely divine chocolate cake. What do you do to the chocolate, to make it taste like that?"

"You want to be my boyfriend?"

"Well, I don't have a girlfriend. You don't have a boyfriend. You make the most divine food. Your parents own a restaurant. And unless I'm much mistaken, the combination of the flash and the twinkle in your eyes means that you don't take any nonsense but you have a good sense of humour."

"You're right I don't take any nonsense."

"Good, you'll keep me in check when I do nonsense. Take a shot at being my girlfriend?"

"Ah well, okay, I guess ... HEY, don't take that towel off ..."

"Why not? A girlfriend can see a boyfriend without his towel."

"Listen ... you ... oh what the heck."

"What the heck, what?"

"Far from stopping you doing nonsense, I'm going to join you. My top unzips at the back, if you'll just attend to it ..."

"Sure thing!"
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