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250 Words on: The Brink of Maturity

"I have new wineglasses," she said, "come over and try them with me. They're blue." She selected two CDs that always made her think of him, and set the stereo to repeat them softly on random.

They laughed, standing too close together as they struggled to open the bottle with the corkscrew on her Swiss Army knife. She closed the door, so they would not disturb the neighbors and so no one else would stop by. Finally the cork came loose.

The first glass went quickly. He poured a second glass of wine for each of them, and handed her one as he sat on the bed beside her. She sipped, slowly, then set down her glass and smiled at him. "So this is what it feels like to be an adult," she whispered under her breath.

He tickled her, and she squirmed away from him. He grabbed to catch her arm, so he could prevent retribution. Both arms collided with the glass on the night stand. It tipped backwards, and the wine splashed all over the wall. She laughed. "It's a college dorm room, I'm sure there has been alcohol on the walls before, and will be again." They wiped up what they could reach, and left the rest alone. It smelled faintly of Chardonnay for days.

Lying in his arms later, listening to him snore and pretending to be asleep, she reflected that the evening had nearly followed the script in her mind, aside from spilling the wine.

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