Sarah Mlynowski - Monkey Business

From behind the door I hear, “You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth.” He’s watching A Few Good Men . I love that movie. See? We’re made for each other.

He opens the door and I throw my arms around him.

“Hello to you, too,” he says, looking vaguely flabbergasted by my greeting.

“Are you still in love with Kimmy?”

He snorts. “Noooo. Why?”

Before he can say anything else I tilt my head down and kiss him hard on the mouth.

He just stands there.

Oh, no.

He doesn’t want me. What did I do? I didn’t even stop to think, I just did it and…wait a sec. He’s kissing me back. Yes! He’s kissing me back! His tongue explores my lips, my mouth, my tongue. Tingles explode down my face and neck and chest and arms. He tastes sweet, like ice cream.

It’s a perfect kiss. I knew it. I am so clever. I pull away and smile.

He looks shell-shocked. “If that’s how you say hello after a week apart, what will you do after summer vacation?”

“I have no intention of keeping you in suspense,” I say.

Tuesday, March 23, 12:30 a.m.

I’m high and lying on Kimmy’s bed.

“I found a great sublet in the West Village,” Kimmy tells me.

“Yeah?”

“It’s a one-bedroom, and it has large windows, and a rooftop patio with a charcoal barbecue. How amazing is having a barbecue?”

It does sound amazing. I want a charcoal barbecue. I haven’t even looked for an apartment yet. “Wanna shack up for summer?”

I can see the possibility rolling around in her mind. Come on, Kimmy, say yes! I want a barbecue!

“Why not?”

I love how spontaneous she is. And I love that she doesn’t care that she did all the work. Truth is, I’m not sure if I love her. I know I told her I did, but I didn’t mean it. I like her a lot, and I’m in lust with her, but-love?

She kisses me and I forget what I was worried about.

I walk in fifteen minutes late to class, and sit in the spot Kimmy reserved for me.

She points to her watch. Thanks, Mom. She can’t get over the fact that I’m late to every class. I pat her on the knee. She pats back.

The trip was great, except for her excessive how-do-I-look and do-you-think-that-chick-is-hotter-than-me whining. How is someone so awesome so insecure?

Sharon wasn’t insecure. Shouldn’t think about Sharon. Can’t stop thinking about Sharon. Did I make a mistake? No. Kimmy is right for me. We’re moving to the same city. We’re working at the same place.

When there are only a few minutes left of class, Professor Martin pulls out a stack of assignments from his briefcase. “The class average was a seventy-three, which isn’t too im p ressive,” he says. “A pp arently the majority of you failed to understand the difference between synergy and leveraging.”

I don’t even remember the assignment. Not a good sign.

I brace myself for a low sixty. I couldn’t have failed. I assume that if you bother showing up you deserve a passing grade. And I’ve shown up. Some of the time.

Martin hands back the assignments. Hands back every assignment but mine. Kimmy nudges me. She doesn’t get hers back, either. When the bell rings, Martin is out of papers. He returns to the front row and says, “Russ and Kimmy, I’d a pp reciate it if you two could stay after class.”

Did I forget to hand in my assignment? That’s possible. There’s so much to keep track of. After the class empties out, Kimmy and I make our way to the front of the room.

“It has come to my attention that you have both breached the MBA Code of Conduct and Honor Code of Leiser Weiss Business School.”

What?

Kimmy’s face drains of color. “Excuse me, sir?”

“Both of you signed the honor code, which states that as a student of LWBS, you would not p lagiarize another student’s work.”

Oh, man.

He places two papers, side by side, faceup on his desk. Kimmy’s has an A on it that’s scratched out. “Now herein lies the p roblem. I received these two almost identical assignments. According to school rules, p lagiarism must result in disci p linary action, and any p erson found guilty will, at the very least, receive a failure for the course.”

Shit.

Kimmy starts crying. “But…I…”

I give her a look to be quiet. Crying is not going to win us points. “Sir, we discussed the assignment together. It was just a coincidence, a crazy coincidence that the papers look alike. I don’t think it’s unheard of that a couple discusses an assignment.”

Martin stares at us. “I believe this goes way beyond bedtime chatter. The two p a p ers were p ractically identical. I believe one of you p lagiarized off the other, and I suggest that you s p eak u p now.”

Kimmy looks at me with beseeching eyes but doesn’t say a thing.

“I see,” Martin says. “Let me add that by p rotecting the guilty, the innocent is just as cul p able. Both of you can ex p ect a notification from LWBS’s disci p linary committee. They’ll be sending you a notification regarding the day and time you’ll be p leading your cases. You’re dismissed.”

We leave the class, shell-shocked.

“What’s the worst that will happen?” I ask.

She wipes the back of her hand against her eyes. “We’ll both be expelled.”

4:50 p.m.

There’s a knock on my door, which I ignore, as at present I’m in the middle of negotiating a movie deal over the phone.

“We can’t pay much,” says the VP Business Development of Light Productions. “Only a stipend really, but we’d love to have you onboard.”

They want to pay me a thousand-dollar stipend for the four months, but that’s one thousand dollars more then I was expecting. It’s a viable offer, an offer I’m taking. I’m going to use my business skills at a production company. And I’m going to major in Media and Entertainment next year.

Cool.

Another knock. Louder. I kick the door in an attempt to make whoever it is go away. I hope it’s not Layla. I’d hate to piss her off so early in the relationship.

I smile to myself. I can’t wait to be in NY. I get to spend the entire summer with Layla. I can’t get her out of my mind. I’m flying far and beyond cloud nine. Cloud nine teen . I can’t believe the woman of my dreams likes me. Everything happened so quickly and it’s so wonderful.

So wonderful-and scary. She’s somehow got it into her head that I’m her perfect match. I have to admit her tendency to idealize men and then knock them off their pedestals in one swift kick makes me nervous. Kimmy says that one of the reasons she broke up with Kermit was because his penis was too big. While that’s good news for my little friend, I didn’t know that was possible. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t slept with her yet. Not because she’ll think my penis is too small and dump me (although that is a concern), but because I want to make sure she’s really in love with me first. Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy putting her off Sunday night. But I want to take things slowly. I’m already so crazy about her-if we start having sex and then she dumps me, I’ll spiral into another depression.

“When can we expect you?” asks the movie man.

“My final exam is Thursday, April twenty-ninth. I can start work the following Monday.” A piece of paper ripped out of a notebook is shoved under my door. What is their problem? I pick up the paper and read: Huge problem. Come find me. Layla