thirty.

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                 AFTER A MORNING shift, Lindy had been surprised to learn that she was being allowed to leave early. There hadn't been a very steady flow of customers, so her manager had cut her, wishing her well for the day.

As Lindy had gotten into her car, she considered what she could do now that her day had been freed up of working. There was always the possibility of seeing Jacqueline, who had insisted that they hang out over the summer on move out day.

But then a thought struck her — Kurt was home alone and Krist and Shelli were both at work. Excited, she started her car and headed to their house. She never grew tired of surprising Kurt and considering that he grew excessively bored sitting at home all day, she knew that he would be as pleased as she was that she'd gotten the rest of the day off. 

Once she was at the house, she walked inside and called out his name.

"Kurt? I'm home!"

There was the sound of footsteps thudding down the staircase and Kurt appeared, his grown out hair tangled around his shoulders. He was in pajamas, but Lindy sensed that he had not been sleeping. There was a funny look in his eyes.

"Hey. What are you doing here?" he asked, sounding oddly like he didn't know her, let alone want her in the house.

Lindy held her purse a little tighter at her side, feeling suddenly quite embarrassed. Perhaps she'd interrupted a spark of creativity?

"Oh, well, I got cut," she explained. "My manager told me I could go home. We were having a slow day."

"Oh," Kurt said. That was the only word he uttered — oh. A silence ensued.

Finally, Lindy, who could not stand the strange and unfamiliar weirdness flowing between them both, threw her hands out and let them slap back down at her sides.

"Well, what do ya' wanna' do?"

She tried to sound upbeat, reminding him that they had the whole day ahead to themselves. Wearing a sly smile, she walked over to him, slinking her arms around his neck. 

"We're all alone. We could go upstairs and . . ."

Lindy didn't have to finish her sentence. The heat of her breath and the close proximity in which she held him made it very clear what she wanted to do. Despite her pregnancy scare, she couldn't resist him, especially when he looked so messily surprised to see her advancements. Usually it was him who did that sort of thing.

"Um, I was sort of in the middle of writing something," he confessed awkwardly. His body felt strange against hers; he was standing so still.

Lindy got the message. She took a step back, allowing for a wide, unusual berth between them. Her face felt hot and she was beginning to feel a familiar nausea that had plagued her days earlier.

"Oh. Okay. I'll . . . just go make myself lunch, or something."

She stalked off towards the kitchen. Kurt did not follow her. In fact, she heard his feet pounding against the stairs, telling that he was returning back to his awaiting song.

Lindy opened the freezer door, yanking out a microwaveable dish that she really did not want to eat and throwing it on the counter with a loud clatter.

Her nerves were getting the best of her as she began to imagine what could possibly be wrong with Kurt and why he was displaying a coldness towards her that he had never shown before.

If he wanted to break up . . . well, Lindy would have preferred that he outright tell her instead of acting like such a jerk.

She ripped the bowl out it's box, taking a knife and stabbing three separate holes into the film that concealed it before shoving it into the microwave.

IN THE SUN ↝ kurt cobainWhere stories live. Discover now