Again

Kit closed the front door behind him, jingling the cheap glass panels that formed a semi-circle near the top. This was it. This was finally it.

The new Rest In Peace game was out, and after a long, repetitive day at work, it was time to play. The worn cushion of his off-brown polyester couch sunk in as he snatched the controller off his glass coffee table and replaced it with the heels of his boots. He booted up the system.

And then the phone rang.

"Dammit! Who the hell is calling right now?" Kit struggled to pull the phone out of his jean pocket, but when he had managed to wrestle it out, he was rewarded with the picture of his girlfriend's face and a Caller ID that read, "Smooch Bug."

"Hey babe! I was just going to call—"

"Are you almost at my parents? They want to start eating soon." Jenna's words held that "I-already-know-the answer-and-this-was-just-a-setup-for-the attack-I'm-preparing-to-launch" tone that Kit was all too familiar with.

He froze, realizing he had to think of an answer quick. "Uhhh…your parents?"

Nice.

"Son of a bitch, Kit. You're at home playing that stupid video game aren't you? You're such a damn child! You promised me two weeks ago that would you come with me to my parents to celebrate Mawmaw's 90th birthday! Now I'm here all by myself again, and my uncle is already drunk and making jokes about my hermit boyfriend." Jenna snarled angrily. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!

Kit sighed. Couldn't he just have one day, though? He chucked the controller onto his designated controller-chucking pillow and pushed himself off the couch. "Fine. Sorry. I'll be over soon—"

"You know what? No. Don't come. My daddy tried to tell me so many times…" She paused and her father's muffled voice sounded off in the background. Jenna sniffed, paused again, and then continued, "It's over, Kit. I can't keep waiting for you to be the man I deserve." Real tears, now.

A pit grew in Kit's gut and he shook his head involuntarily. "Jenna…Smooch Bug…listen, I'm sorry. I just forgot. You can't do this all because I forgot one party."

Her father's warbled voice again. Kit could only pick up the words "same" and "won't change." Man, that guy was an ass.

"No. I'm sorry." A sob, and then the words ran fast, stumbling together. "This isn't the first time! This is so like you! This is you! I can't count on you for anything, you're always late—if you show up at all—and you just…you just don't…you don't make me a priority!"

The pit in his stomach began to grow hot and rise to the back of his skull. Just as his anger began to prepare his defense, he heard a click.

And then she was gone.

He thought about calling her back. About reminding her of how often he had been there for her when she had messed up big. Or all the times he had supported her while she was between jobs and not between shopping sprees. Or how the entire reason that she was at Mawmaw's 90th birthday party was because he had helped patch things up between her and her family after she had nearly burnt that bridge to ashes.

In the end, though, all he did was sit back down, turn his phone on silent, and tuck it under the cushion where his controller sat. He had seen this coming. And he knew when she was like this, there was no talking to her anyhow.

A knock at the door startled him out of his somber introspection and he flinched before standing back up. The delivery guy's brightly-colored hat stuck out through the glass panels in the door. After opening, he grabbed the pizza box and reassured the middle-aged man that he had given a tip when he placed the online order.

As the delivery guy drove off on his scooter, Kit waved and took a step back inside, catching the edge of the cardboard pizza box against the side of his door panel. Slow-motion kicked in as the box opened and tipped out of his hands, flipping the pizza over to land face-down on his doorstep. Miraculously, exactly half of the pie had landed on the inside of his house with the other landing on the dusty concrete half of his porch.

Words were said, pizza was kicked, and a door was slammed.

Kit collapsed back onto his couch, emotionally exhausted and feeling more hungry than he probably was. A warm bundle of fur that he had not noticed originally shifted under his arm as his one-eyed cat announced its presence. "Oh, shoot, Blink, I didn't see you there! Sorry!"

Blink answered by raking a pistol-quick set of claws against his forearm, immediately drawing blood. The growl that broke from Kit's throat sent Blink leaping high above the couch and sprinting out of the room, most likely to hide beneath the bed it would undoubtedly climb onto later that night to nuzzle atop Kit's feet.

With red streaks dripping down his arm, Kit sat, staring at the idle title screen of Rest In Peace. And then he grabbed the controller. At least there was one good thing waiting for him today.

The doorbell rang.

Kit screamed and threw down his controller. He jumped up from his couch and stomped over to the door, ripping it open to see what unfortunate soul had interrupted his last frayed thread of peace.

The soft buzz of a drone sped away. On his doorstep—atop a smear of drying marinara sauce—sat a medium-sized cardboard box with a loose folded piece of white paper stapled to the top. He bent down and narrowed his eyes as he unfolded the note. A single word was written in all capital letters on top of the box.

"Again."

Kit closed the front door behind him, jingling the cheap glass panels that formed a semi-circle near the top. This was it. This was finally it.

The new Rest In Peace game was out, and after a long, repetitive day at work, it was time to play. The worn cushion of his off-brown polyester couch sunk in as he snatched the controller off his glass coffee table and replaced it with the heels of his boots. He booted up the system.

And then the phone rang.

Huh, just got that feeling of deja vú. Weird. I bet that's going to be Jenna.

Kit struggled to pull the phone out of his jean pocket, but when he had managed to wrestle it out, he was rewarded with the picture of his girlfriend's face and a Caller ID that read, "Smooch Bug."

I knew it!

"Hey babe! I was just going to call—"

"Are you almost at my parents? They want to start eating soon." Jenna's words held that "I-already-know-the answer-and-this-was-just-a-setup-for-the attack-I'm-preparing-to-launch" tone that Kit was all too familiar with.

He froze, realizing he had to think of an answer quick. Wait, I know this. "Uhhh…for Mawmaw's 90th, right?"

A pause.

"Well…yeah. You remembered?" Her verbal assault seemed to stall its momentum. "You're not home playing that stupid video game, then?"

Kit sighed. Couldn't he just have one day, though? He chucked the controller onto his designated controller-chucking pillow and pushed himself off the couch. "Nope. I'll be over soon—"

"Did you remember to pick up her cake from that store by your work?" Jenna asked, obviously searching for a sign of weakness.

Kit palmed his forehead. "Jenna, I'm sorry. Work was crazy today and my boss was riding me and I totally forgot. I'll head back and pick it up and meet you—"

"You know what? No. Don't come. My daddy tried to tell me so many times…” She paused and her father's muffled voice sounded off in the background. Jenna sniffed, paused again, and then continued, "It's over, Kit. I can't keep waiting for you to be the man I deserve." Real tears, now.

A pit grew in Kit's gut. Why do I feel like I know where this is going? "Jenna…Smooch Bug…listen, I'm sorry. I just forgot. You can't do this all because I forgot a cake."

Her father's warbled voice again.

"No. I'm sorry." A sob, and then the words ran fast, stumbling together. "This isn't the first time! This is so like you! This is you! I can't count on you for anything, you're always late—if you show up at all—and you just…you just don't…you don't make me a priority!"

She's going to hang up right now.

Click.

And then she was gone.

Why do I feel like I've already had that conversation?

Kit sat back down, turned his phone on silent, and tucked it under the cushion where his controller sat. He had seen this coming.

A knock at the door startled him out of his somber introspection and he flinched before standing back up.

Pizza's here.

As the delivery guy drove off on his scooter, Kit waved and took a step back inside, catching the edge of the cardboard pizza box against the side of his door panel. Slow-motion kicked in as the box opened and tipped out of his hands, flipping the pizza over to land face-down on his doorstep. Miraculously, exactly half of the pie had landed on the inside of his house with the other landing on the dusty concrete half of his porch.

Words were said, pizza was kicked, and a door was slammed.

Kit nearly collapsed back onto his couch, but something caused him to look behind him. A warm bundle of fur that he had not noticed raised its head threateningly from the spot he hovered over. "Oh, shoot, Blink, I didn't see you there! Sorry!" He reached down to lift the one-eyed cat and place her on the cushion beside him.

Blink answered by raking a pistol-quick set of claws against his forearm, immediately drawing blood. The growl that broke from Kit's throat sent Blink leaping high above the couch and sprinting out of the room, most likely to hide beneath the bed it would undoubtedly climb onto later that night to nuzzle atop Kit's feet.

With red streaks dripping down his arm, Kit sat, staring at the idle title screen of Rest In Peace. And then he grabbed the controller. At least there was one good thing waiting for him today.

The doorbell rang.

There's a package at my door.

He slowly stood up from his couch and walked over to the door, gently sliding it open in time to catch the soft buzz of a drone speeding away. On his doorstep—atop a smear of drying marinara sauce—sat a medium-sized cardboard box with a loose folded piece of white paper stapled to the top. He bent down and narrowed his eyes as he unfolded the note. A single word was written in all capital letters on top of the box.

"Again."

Kit closed the front door behind him, jingling the cheap glass panels that formed a semi-circle near the top. This was it. This was finally it.

The new Rest In Peace game was out, and after a long, repetitive day at work, it was time to play. The worn cushion of his off-brown polyester couch sunk in as he snatched the controller off his glass coffee table and replaced it with the heels of his boots. He booted up the system.

And then the phone rang.

Kit struggled to pull the phone out of his jean pocket, but when he had managed to wrestle it out, he was rewarded with the picture of his girlfriend's face and a Caller ID that read, "Smooch Bug."

He ignored the call, and instead sent a short text off to Jenna. "Hey, I'm sorry. I don't think this is working out. Please tell Mawmaw happy 90th for me, and tell your dad he's a bit of an ass."

Then he turned his phone on silent and tucked it under the cushion where his controller sat.

A knock at the door came. The delivery guy's brightly-colored hat stuck out through the glass panels in the door. After opening, he grabbed the pizza box and handed the middle-aged man a twenty even though he had already given a tip when he placed the online order.

As the delivery guy drove off on his scooter, Kit waved and tucked the pizza box under his armpit.

"Blink, git!" he yelled, tossing a slice of pizza on the ground near his one-eyed cat, who leaped from the couch to investigate the cheesy delight. Kit collapsed back onto his couch, feeling a strange sense of calm, and began to attack a greasy slice of pepperoni and black olives while watching the title screen of Rest In Peace on his television.

The doorbell rang.

Kit began kneeling even as he opened the door.

The soft buzz of a drone sped away. On his doorstep sat a medium-sized cardboard box with a loose folded piece of white paper stapled to the top. He bent down and narrowed his eyes as he unfolded the note. A pair of sentences were written in all capital letters on top of the box.

"Congratulations player, you beat level one! Are you ready to move on to level two?"