“So it is a top on your lap?”
I hesitate as I realize that I have absolutely no idea how to explain this and then say, “Yes, a large phone.”
“Ah. Is that video of me riding on your back on this as well?” He pokes the screen a bit, obviously having no idea what he’s doing.
“Nope. That has been erased from existence.”
“Interesting. What is this?” he asks, picking up a stapler.
“It like… attaches papers together.”
He presses down and a staple pops out. So I take the stapler from him and staple two pages in a notebook together. This seems to delight him for some reason.
“I see,” he says as Imani returns with the papers for us to sign and Torin immediately staples them together. “I like this.” And then he staples them again on the other side.
“Can you believe the media coverage on Torin worked?” Imani asks me.
“There’s absolutely no way that mess worked.” I vaguely remember Lt. Lindsey said something about it, but I thought she just meant it wasn’t a complete dumpster fire.
“People loved it. They thought Quill was adorable. They’re all over the way Torin was ‘protecting’ you. This stunt worked better than if he’d stood up there and given a speech.”
I stare at her, rather suspicious how any part of what happened yesterday could have won anyone over. Before I can get more details, Imani notices that Torin has placed staples about an inch apart all the way around the papers he’s supposed to sign.
“No, no, you have to be able to sign both of those,” she says as she takes the papers from him. It deters him very little since he begins trying to staple my mouse pad.
“I love this thing and will take it home with me,” he declares.
“You can have it,” I say.
After much struggle—and procuring a staple remover which Torin also decides to take home—Imani sets the newly separated papers down and gives him a pen. “So you’re just signing your name here and here.”
Torin swiftly writes down “Torin, God of War and Love” as Imani and I stare at the papers and question at what point “God of War and Love” became his last name. And the date he puts down is foreign to both of us.
“He has nothing else on here, so how do we fill these out? He has no identification numbers, no address. Like what do I put? Door in the middle of a field?” I ask, although the Doorhasbeen moved.
Imani just shrugs and walks away, making it my problem. I stare at the form for a while before deciding to just put my information for everything else.
“What is this?” Torin asks as he holds it in front of my face.
“That’s a highlighter. You use it to color things you don’t want to forget.”
“Ah,” he says, running the highlighter across my cheek. “I will not forget you.”
“Oh… uh… that’s sweet?” I tell him, rather uncertain. But it also makes me realize that someday, Torin really could forget me because I’ll just be a blip in his life. My lifespan is nothing compared to his.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Did I not use it right?”
“Nothing. You used it just fine.”
Torin puts the highlighter in my hand. “You can mark me as well.”
I run the highlighter down his hand, a part of me considering turning the line into a heart. But what am I? A fourteen-year-old with their first crush? “Trust me. There’s no damn way I’m ever going to forget you.”
He grins at me and then sets his sights on opening every drawer in my desk. Kit, finding all of this far too tempting, leaps from my shoulder to Torin’s and then down on his lap to help. They’re both scurrying around over there like menaces.
Meanwhile, the only thing I can see is the shit they’re getting into, but I leave them to it while Torin asks me what each thing is.
That’s when he hears the whirl of the printer. His chair is flung back and my eyesight goes with it since Kit goes along for the ride.
