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Kind of dancing. Yet kind of teasing me.
Almost seducing me, which didn’t take much.
I ate my second slice of cold pizza.
“Turn it down,” I growled.
Fiona picked up her phone again and turned the music up louder.
Just like that, it became a game between us.
Me complaining. Her turning up the music.
“This is horrible music!” I yelled out.
Fiona threw her head back and started to sing.
Painting, she’s great at.
Singing? Hell no.
That was not her thing at all.
And she knew it too.
She didn’t pretend to know how to sing.
She also wasn’t afraid to embarrass herself.
“This is torture!” I yelled.
Fiona turned her head and stared at me. “Do you mind? I’m trying to get something done here?”
“Are you going to just torture me all day?”
“You can leave!”
“This is my condo!”
“What? I can’t hear you!”
Fiona screamed more lyrics.
Closing her eyes, going off-key even more.
She wanted to mess with me?
I could mess with her right back.
I stoodup from the couch and approached Fiona.
The damn music pounding from the speakers I installed to watch TV with.
To make movies better.
To make hockey games sound like you were in the arena.
Definitely not to be used for this shit pop music while Fiona painted in my condo.
