“Don’t touch that!” Lex exclaimed when Naomi was about to sit on a giant black wooden box.
“What?” she leapt forward in surprised. “What? What is it? What’s wrong with it?”
“That my Portal-In-A-Box!” he snapped, like she’d pointed at the Mona Lisa and asked what it was. “Don’t ever touch it!”
“What the hell is a ‘Portal-In-A-Box’?” Zeph asked, laughing.
It was a lazy post-school afternoon and they were lazing around Lex’s basement, packed with all sorts of strange artifacts all relating to the super/preternatural. All except for McKale, who had a job working as a cashier in a super-crunchy-granola grocery store. Everything was organic, everything was earth-friendly, and everything was expensive. The whole hippie thing was right up McKale’s alley, and she loved working there to better the world one organic food product at a time. And for the 20 percent employee discount, naturally.
“It’s just in case I have to escape into a different dimension,” he said, completely serious. “That beanbag over there is safe; go sit on that.”
“Wait, in case you what?” Angela asked.
“I’ve heard this one before,” Sonnet remarked, rolling her eyes.
“That’s because you basically live here,” Zeph said. “Go on, Lex. Why would you need to escape into a different dimension?”
“Just in case! For anything! Zombies, aliens, vampires, werewolves, you name it. I don’t want to deal with it. This baby is my emergency exit for the apocalypse.”
“Basically if all of Sonnet’s wildest dreams ever came true,” Naomi giggled, stopping the second she got a death-glare from the girl in question.
“Say what you like, just don’t sit on it,” Lex warned them again.
“What kind of dimension would it bring you to?” Angela asked, humoring him.
“Well, that’s just it,” he said, patting it. “No way to tell. I might end up in a land completely dominated by sentient slime mold. Or just a parallel dimension like our current universe except that everyone is wearing newsboy caps.”
They all stared at him blankly as he walked over to the mini-fridge that McKale had drawn a face on and named ‘Trevor.’ “Anyone want a drink?”
“Something not soda, please,” Sonnet said. “I’m trying to cut back. My love-handles are starting to make themselves known.” She squeezed her sides in irritation.
“Please something that is soda,” Naomi begged. “My mom has been so granola lately that it’s killing me!”
“Yeah, but it’s doing wonders for you body,” Sonnet remarked.
“Yeah, I’ve become a human walking stick insect. Thanks.”
“You worry too much about stuff like that,” Zeph said, catching the can that Lex had thrown to him. “Life is way too short.”
“Sonnet, could you not block the fallout shelter entrance?” Lex asked as he chucked a bottle of juice her way.