Coma

“So let me get this straight,” Sebastian said unbelievingly. “You don’t cuss, at all?”

A few days, three to be exact, had passed, and in that time, Emma and Sebastian had hung out every day. Most of the time, Sebastian would get them hot chocolate, and then they would meet in the park. During the time they spent together, they would just simply sit and talk, about anything and everything. Sebastian questioning Emma’s cussing abilities all started because Bass had accidently tripped while they were walking, spilling his steaming hot chocolate all over Emma. Sebastian immediately shrank back, expecting furious yells and select adult words, but nothing came. Emma simply frowned and began cleaning herself up. When Sebastian question her on why she didn’t cuss nor yell at him, she lazily shrugged, and said she really didn’t cuss.

“No, I don’t cuss, not really,” Emma said, still patting herself with napkins.

“But, how?” Bass asked, beyond confused. To him, cursing was a second nature. His parents believe, when he was growing up, that if they allowed him to curse around them, the less likely he would do it. Though, their plan backfired and Bass felt the need to curse like a sailor whenever he felt like it, which was very often.

“I don’t know,” Emma stated, confused as to why Sebastian was so curious about the subject. “There are other ways to express yourself without using foul language.”

“Lies,” Bass hissed, “Cussing is essential to everyday living.”

“Five year olds do not cuss, yet they live day to day,” Emma pointed out smugly.

Sebastian rolled his eyes at her lame attempt of a comeback. “Have you ever cursed?”

“Well, yeah, I think I’ve said ass and hell once,” Emma said, after thinking about it. Sebastian simply nodded, looking very thoughtful. Silently, he led them both to an empty park bench and sat down. Still staying quiet, he absentmindedly petted Gene. Suddenly, he got an amazing idea, well; it was amazing to him at least. Ever so sneakily, Sebastian moved his hand so he inconspicuously unhooked the latch on Eugene’s leash. Like a speeding bullet, Eugene was off, immediately chasing after a Frisbee some teenagers were throwing.

“Eugene! Wait, come back!” Emma yelled, jumping up quickly and following after the puppy. Half way, she turned suddenly and yelled at Bass. “Sebastian,” she called, “come help me, please!” Both Sebastian and Eugene ignored Emma and continued what they were doing; in Eugene’s case, that was running, in Bass’ case, which was laughing loudly at Emma.

After ten, grueling minuets, Emma finally caught Eugene with the help of a cop, who yelled at her for another good ten minuets for not having her dog on a leash. Angrily, Emma walked up to Sebastian, who was still laughing hysterically, dragging a sulking Eugene behind her.

“Thanks for helping me,” Emma said bitterly. Other than a light line of sweat on her forehead, Emma looked like she did before; she wasn’t out of breath or holding her sides in pain from running.

That surprised Bass. “How are you not dying? You just ran a fucking marathon,” he pointed out, still snickering.

“I ran track and cross country in high school,” Emma said, sitting down next to him.

“High school was ages ago.”

“Well, until recently, I used to run every morning,” Emma said. “You know, you could run with me if you want. I need a running partner and you could get rid of that pooch on your tummy,” she joked.

Sebastian laughed with her. “Rock hard abs honey,” he said, and he would have lifted up his shirt if it hadn’t been so cold out. “But seriously, running is lame as hell, sorry.” Emma shrugged, not really expecting Sebastian to run with her. “Do you want to get something to eat?” Bass asked a few minuets later. “I’m starving.” Emma nodded, and they were off to a small café a few blocks down the road.

Throughout lunch, Sebastian continued with his plans to get Emma to cuss. First, he started off subtly by simply spitting spit wads at her, knocking off her silverware five times, and spilling her water on her, twice. But Emma still would not mutter a single curse word. She would look up at him with harsh, pale green eyes and click her tongue. Aggravated, Sebastian brought out all the cards. They were eating in the outdoor part of the café, so Eugene was allowed to be tied up under the table. Once again, Bass set him free and Emma had to chase after him. After catching him, and getting yelled at, again, Emma sat down frustrated. She knew exactly what Sebastian Wallace was doing, but she would not give in. She never really cussed in her entire life, and she wasn’t going to start now.

Sebastian figured Emma had figured his plan out, so instead of simply giving up, he one upped his game. Ever so obvious, Sebastian grabbed his grease covered pepperoni pizza slice and threw it on Emma’s purple V-neck, smearing some of the grease on her black cardigan also. Throwing the pizza was the last straw.

“That’s it Sebastian Wallace,” Emma hissed, narrowing her green eyes, “I know what you are doing, and you better fucking stop. You are annoying the shit out of me. You wanted me to cuss, well here you go, I’m fucking cussing. Happy?” she asked rhetorically, but Bass answered anyways.

“Extremely,” he said, smiling hugely.

Emma sighed, still aggravated. “Do you have another cigarette? You’re stressing me out.”

Sebastian laughed heartedly. “Yeah, I do. Take the rest of the pack,” he said, handing over the cigarettes. Sebastian was extremely please with himself, he just got number two crossed off his list. And the wheels in his head were already turning, already figuring out number three on his list.