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“Residential or commercial?” she asked. I couldn’t help but pipe in.
“Residential! There’s an alarm going off, and I’m trying to exit the sixth floor.”
“Do you see the button with the two arrows facing the opposite directions?”
“You mean the one I keep smashing.” Nick and I took turns pecking at it.
“Yes. Stop clicking it.”
Nick rubbed his chin as he spoke patiently. “I’m thinking one of the emergency switches was accidentally triggered.”
“Most likely… do you see the ‘Push Run’ button?”
“Yes.”
“Is it engaged?”
“How can you tell?”
“Before you press anything, let me get your address in case we get disconnected. I can dispatch the fire department over there in seconds.”
Yes, god, send anyone! A firefighter, a construction worker, a deli owner, anyone at all who could free us from this thing. I was thrilled, already leaning onto Nick so the lady could hear me. “Thank you! We’re on the lower east side, 143—”
I could barely get the numbers out, as Nick twisted a knob.
Immediately the alarm went off.
Along with the lights.
“Oh, shit.” Nick whispered.
“Nicholas!”
Full name? Two times in a row?
A red emergency light slowly came on from above, barely illuminating our faces in the dimly lit confines. Nick twisted the knob again, but the lady on the other end was gone, left only with the first three numbers of our address.
I tired not to panic as I turned to Nick with the widest eyes ever.
He grinned apologetically, lifting up the
large Sichuan Garden bag as an offering, “Hungry?”
6
Elena
#6 He’s Generous With His Egg Roll
“I’m not too sure if I want to admit this…” Nick laughed to himself, the both of us sitting on the dark elevator floor, slurping down noodles and sesame chicken. He passed me another crab wonton, his hand and features visible in the cast of the mellow red light above.
“Oh, come on! It can’t be that bad. All Christmas movies are a little silly, anyways. So which one is your favorite?”
“It’s a divisive answer, I swear.”
“What? Christmas with the Kranks?”
Nick held out his hand as if stopping me, “Woah… don’t diss the Kranks.” He stabbed his chopsticks into his takeout container, dividing the assorted vegetables from the picked over meat. “Ok. Here it is. I know it’s not pretty, but try not to judge… promise?”
