Pumping the Breaks

Chapter 6

[ Summary: A sudden realization helps Odette learn to steer uncomfortable situations. Will her strategy hold out or is she overestimating her ability yet again?]

Odette

Tragedy had been narrowly averted.

Odette’s emergency milking session was—thankfully—more productive than the previous milking attempt. She stood in the tub while Amanda squeezed her massive knockers from behind. Her let down was voluminous, countless streams of her rapidly produced breast milk splashing to the tub below.

One of her heavier flows to be certain. She’d been correct in guessing that today was a high production day. The small blonde wasn’t able to exercise an ounce of control over her huge, glutted mammaries while they were milked. They each took on a life of their own as thick, hot cream made her nipples stretch into sensitive bulbs. Band after band of milk gushed, eager—

. . .—like a crowd standing outside at the midnight release of the Limited Physical Edition Trident Noir Expansion Set for ForeverAge 2.

Or something like that.

An hour had elapsed since then.

Odette had her legs propped up in the backseat of Pari’s car. She tried not to think about the syrupy mess she’d left in her bathroom, or the silly, sudden rush of excitement that had caused said mess: the sight of Janet’s round bottom filling the seat of Pari’s sleek, white sport’s car. But what she tried to avoid most of all was the accidental collision that had brought her about-to-burst boobies against Theo.

She avoided thoughts of messes, unexpected milking sessions, and awkward interactions with a boy that might like her by thinking about games like ForeverAge 2—the “Limited Physical Edition Trident Noir Expansion Set”.

Instead of “limited-but-physical” interactions brought on by her own “expanding sets”.

Was it working?

A little. . .

Okay, not much.

But maybe if she kept at it, it would help.

She scrolled through forums in the backseat while Theo drove and Amanda—who had lost the bet—sat in the passenger seat, tasked with keeping the driver company. Accompanying the three as an extra passenger was an aggravatingly hefty silence, brought on by the need to address what had taken place before the three departed.

While reclined with her head on the armrest of the rear driver's side, Odette replied to texts from Pari, the supposed-to-be-asleep caregiver. Pari asked if Odette had milked her enlarged breasts, wondering if she was an appropriate cupsize when she left the house.

Odette was surprised that Pari—who, again, was supposed to be asleep—knew that Odette had left the house. However, she left her surprise out of the conversation. Instead she reassured her sick friend.

Her breasts were definitely smaller when she left the house. Considering that they had dwarfed her entire waist earlier that same day, the current party balloon size made her look stupendously well-endowed instead of conspicuously ridiculous.

Though, she did leave out that their current size was comparable to the “party balloons” they had been when Pari agreed to let her handle lunch in the first place, back when Pari had instructed her to deal with her milk before she did anything else because they looked so, so full.

But mentioning that would have worried Pari, and the last thing a sick person needed was to be worried. So, Odette left that out too.

Lastly, for the same reason, Odette left a certain concerning memory out of her text messages:

How her milk-producing titties had caused a panicked rush toward the bathroom, and how that rush had run her right into Theo’s unexpecting arms. Her boobs had laid against him for longer than she was comfortable admitting. They’d yearned to be touched, and in the heat of the moment, Odette didn’t think it would be so bad to have Theo rid her of her gallons of heavy cream—then, or ever.

She didn’t think Pari would care all that much, but the thoughts that had bubbled up while she threatened a wardrobe malfunction in front of Theo—and how it might not be all that bad to not be wearing a shirt while pressed up against a friend—were so embarrassing that she just couldn’t put them to words.

He’d just stood there with her, watching her like a puppy that knew its owner was sick. She wished he would have just moved.

But she felt pleasant flutters in her chest when she remembered that he hadn’t. . .

And all of that was too much to say in a text message, even if Odette could find a way to make sense of how vexed she was about it.

She did manage to mention that the milking had gone a little rough, hunting for sympathy. Pari replied seconds later with a “Call me?” message, to which Odette replied, “Not that rough. I’m fine, but thx”, and felt a little better even though she had been the one to ask for a rougher second milking.

A milking that still left her boobies full and wanting.

A milking that had happened because she couldn’t keep from being impressed by Janet’s large buttocks.

A milking that a tiny piece of her wished had been at Theo’s hand—not because of the like-like, but because he was there, and he cared about her, and she cared about him, and she always felt closer to people that milked her—

—and she was already thinking about it again.

So much for distracting herself with ForeverAge 2.

Theo put the car in park and killed the engine. They’d reached their destination. Odette’s musings had preoccupied her so much that she didn’t remember to feel anxious about riding in the car with someone that wasn’t Pari.

Amanda spoke just as the engine noise retreated. “Alright, you two. We’ve only got a few minutes to make this work. We’ll need your complete cooperation if we want to succeed in our mission.”

Theo worked himself out of his seatbelt, freeing it and guiding it carefully back rather than letting it reel itself in. “I didn’t know there was a time limit,” he said, voice uneven.

“There’s a sick person waiting for this meal. Every second we waste is one second closer to starvation.”

“C’mon, Amanda. Things aren’t really that dire? A-Are they—. . .”

Tucked in the sun visor above Amanda was a piece of yellow legal paper torn into thirds. Amanda retrieved them, read over each one, and jabbed a list at Theo to cut him off. “Theo, you’re in the aisles: canned goods, spices, and sides. And Odette, you’re going to be going for fresh ingredients: meats, vegetables, and the like.”

Amanda reached behind Theo’s chair to hand Odette her own slip of paper. Odette skimmed the handwritten list and saw that there wasn’t much to it: cooked chicken, celery, carrots, an onion, and. . . organic, cheesy cheddar zoo animal crackers. When Odette looked up quizzically, Amanda met the unspoken question with a steely, militaristic expression; all seriousness, no compromise.

Theo spoke up. “And what are you going to be doing, Amanda? What’s on your list?”

“Nothing. My paper is blank,” replied Amanda. “I’ll be in the bathroom. I’ve had to pee since we left.”

“What will you be doing after you pee?”

“Gathering ingredients for a special dessert dish.”

“Why the organic cheesy zoo animal crackers?” Odette asked. She sat up from her reclined position and sat in the no-man’s land between the back seats.

Amanda didn’t miss a beat. “Because the organic are made with a more holistic, clean process.”

Odette smiled, sitting up in her seat. “And because they’re yummy.”

“Bingo.”

“Glad you two are having fun,” said Theo, as if he weren’t.

Amanda gave his shoulder a shove. “You ought to be having fun, too. Why can’t you be more like cadet Odette?”

Theo’s gaze rose to the rearview mirror, then. Odette glanced at him through the reflective surface. Even a tiny reflection of Theo was too awkward a vibe for her. His eyes started out cautiously playful, but careened toward pity within just a few seconds of eye contact. The twinge of discomfort roiled in Odette’s tummy and she scooted over to exit the car on Amanda’s side.

At least we’re shopping in different sections.

“Alrighty, then,” Amanda concluded, then hopped out to join Odette. Theo followed, moments behind.

The three exited the car, having received their marching orders. Theo pressed the dongle several times and the car honked thrice behind them as they made for the entrance of the Fresh Farmers.

A wall of awareness brought the three to a complete stop just inside the automatic sliding door.

Buggy carts rattled and squealed. Babies could be heard wailing in far off aisles. The beeping of registers were just enough off key that they produced a dissonant, grating tune too obnoxious to be ignored. The building was a warehouse with bulk items wrapped in cellophane stacked on industrial shelving to the ceiling, looming like dark, environmentally-unfriendly castles. Fresh Farmer patrons scurried in the shadow of such pillars, shoulder to shoulder as they slithered from place to place, the unsteady percussion of their heels on cement flooring like that of thunder.

It was just grocery shopping.

But it was big grocery shopping.

A group of nerds wandering into such a place were immediately made to feel out of place by the sheer scale of the labyrinth.

“This place wasn’t meant for gamers,” Theo said, voicing Odette’s concerns.

Amanda replied with encouragement. “C’mon guys. We’re the flu fighters. We’ve trained for this.”

“At least the people seem nice?” Odette said, gesturing to a smiling woman in a golden apron bagging groceries.

Behind them, a buggy’s rattling grew louder and louder until it clattered over the threshold of the sliding doors. Theo belted a “Hey—. . .” and was thrown forward, his legs barely catching him so that he could dance to the side. He bore an expression of pain and disbelief after finding his footing. His arm was cocked with his hand pressed into his lower back at the source of the pain.

An older woman seated in a motorized, handicap buggy continued on her stampede as if she hadn’t just spent the whole parking lot picking up speed to mow down a skinny, blonde guy.

“You kids need to move! You’re blocking the automatic door—letting all the cool air out!” she crooned, the spitting image of a cartoon villainess. “Some of us need to get our things before they stop honoring the daily deal coupons! Entitled young people. Selfish. Only think of themselves, don’t care one bit if I get twenty-five percent off chicken liver. . .”

Odette, made to feel ashamed, leaned and waved at the woman as her motorized buggy peeled away. “Uh, we’re sorry!”

“But not much,” Amanda mumbled. “Some fictional character just smashed Theo’s ass. I’m not apologizing to it.”

“What universe is this?” Theo groaned, unable to straighten his back, pain clear on his scrunched face. “Is this some shared dream?”

“Not unless I’m your therapist,” answered Amanda.

“Or if we somehow ended up inside a comic book,” Odette tacked on. Talking about it excited her. “There’s a villain in a series I’m reading that can make multiple people fall asleep and have the same dream. It’s really good stuff.”

“Nice,” said Amanda.

“Text it to me,” Theo replied, fighting a smile for Odette’s sake.

“Sure. I think your bookstore has it, but they aren’t up with the latest issue yet.”

“I bet you money that it’s in a box in the storage room, w-waiting to be opened by me in the morning.”

“You can’t work tomorrow—”

“Why not?”

“ —especially not with a bunch of heavy boxes. You have a lower back injury.”

It clearly pained him, but Theo stood just a little taller at the sympathy. He still wasn’t completely without a hunch or hobble, but he made his way closer to Odette. At the mention of his injury, he turned slightly and played his lip between his teeth, removing his hand from the spot near his jean-clad tailbone.

“I’ll be alright. Someone’s gotta do it, and I would miss the money,” he answered. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Why not?” Odette replied.

“Just don’t, okay?”

“I care about all my friends, Theo,” said Odette, not appreciating his brushing off her concern. “And that looked like it really hurt.”

“Odette, no. I’m alright. Really. I’ll text you tomorrow if I see any comics that look like that—. . .”

“Am I not allowed to care about you?”

Theo turned away, but his eyes lingered on Odette, sticking to her with a thick, viscous pity before he tore it away. He never answered her.

This broke the spell that Odette hadn’t noticed was woven between them.

The spell had made Odette ignorant of the fact that there was a conversation going on. Magically, she’d forgotten about the unsettling prologue: the quiet car trip, the messy milking, and the longing she’d felt with her body against Theo’s. All of it had evaporated while she tried to relate to Theo again.

Their exchange had felt like their chat logs, the nights they’d spent working on gaming builds or grinding materials for guild raids; like words that went nowhere and whose origin didn’t matter. Words that didn’t change a thing between them.

But then, Theo turned and ignored her question, denying her the chance, for whatever reason—like she couldn’t or shouldn’t feel bad for him.

After all that awkwardness and silence, she had tried to say something to put them on familiar terms and all he could do was ignore her?

Her frustrations piled higher. She was a moment away from flaming him before she caught herself—which she was only able to do because, well, he was injured, and probably meant well by it, and didn’t mean to make her feel the way she felt.

But still. . .

Really, Theo? Really?! I’m trying to make things better!

She was trying to remind him of times before the like-like.

Amanda stepped in, squeezed Theo’s shoulder, and ran his excuses through like a katana through construction paper.

“Well, if you can chat about comic books, then you must be in good enough shape to get to shopping,” Amanda snarled. Theo had a rebuttal, but she didn’t entertain it. “And if you are in pain, then suck it up. Or grab a buggy and go run that old lady off the road—show her who’s boss. Go! Go! We’re burning daylight.”

Theo hobbled in the direction of her pushing, though he looked relieved to have the subject of his injury brushed off. Odette trailed the two, still peeved and simmering over it.

The indoor cart corral was only a quarter full. They had to walk to the very end of it just to get two carts, both of which were massive, industrial-sized behemoths that cried like banshees when they were moved. Still, Amanda was infinitely encouraging—she’d been way more forthright all day than she usually was, Odette noticed—and Theo was on his way through the aisles with only a small kick of her spurs.

Odette intended to follow right behind him. The handrail for her cart was shoulder height on her. She had to fully extend her arms just to get its rusty wheels to move and would have to do so again if it ever came to a complete stop. The physical effort of moving her tank of a buggy made her entire body move in ways she was more conscious of today; mostly in her titties, which bobbled about underneath her as she shoved, swinging freely and noticeably underneath.

Vaguely in the same milking position as before.

But before Odette could leave the corral, Amanda intercepted her.

“Your face was doing a thing earlier,” she said, already softening the accusation with a hand on Odette’s back.

“What thing?” asked Odette. She was unwilling to come to a complete stop for a one-off comment, but seeing that Amanda had more to say she tilted the cart so that it sat in an empty spot next to a set of soda machines—which were neither “fresh” nor made by “farmers”, now that she thought about it.

“Talking to Theo? It got pretty serious. I’d say you were about to growl at him, but I’ve never seen anyone actually growl at someone before.”

“Oh. Uh, yea. He’s annoying.”

“Is it him or something else?”

“I want it to be him so I can take it out on him,” Odette glanced down and away from her taller, brunette friend, catching Theo’s silhouette as it disappeared behind an oncoming rush of carts and shoppers. “But I know it’s the like-like.”

“The ‘like-like’?”

“Theo possibly maybe like-liking me.”

“I know, but. . . Like-like? What is this, third grade?”

Odette snapped her chin up and pouted at Amanda.

Amanda moved her right shoulder a little closer to her right ear, a half shrug.

“Calling it what it is. . . is worse,” Odette admitted. “Makes my chest feel tight.”

“That’s the last thing we want, given what we’ve been through today,” said Amanda, idly opening and closing her hand as if something substantial had been in it.

“But not addressing it is a problem. I can’t stand Theo when he won’t pick which Theo he wants to be around me.” Odette talked with her hands, a substitute for raising her voice. “Either he’s gamer nerd Theo and I can talk to him about anything, or he’s r-romantic Theo and nothing we talk about is bigger or more important than whether or not he likes me.”

“Oh, he likes you.”

“You can’t prove that.”

“I can’t while you’re wilfully blind about it.” Amanda shot back, though when she saw how Odette recoiled at her words, she returned with a gentleness. Her voice lowered, but she drew closer, using the proximity to preen Odette’s shirt and cardigan, straightening invisible lines and picking invisible lint. “Sorry. I’m a little frustrated, too.”

“At me?”

“The situation. . . but also you.”

“But you’re nice about it.”

“What other way is there to be about it?” Amanda answered. She sounded eerily like Pari when she said it and Odette slid into the hard honesty like a cozy pair of socks. Amanda continued with Odette as her rapt audience. “Remember that day you came to the gaming club? The day you had to go help Mrs. Graham? Whenever I think ‘Odette’, I think of that day—barging into a situation, grabbing the reins, and putting boys in their place. You even inspired me to practice fighting games so that I could compete. You know how much I hate fighting games.”

“You do hate fighting games.”

“But in less than an hour, I’ve learned so much more about you and I haven’t figured out how to reconcile the two yet. Part of me wants gamer girl Odette to stomp over to Theo and demand a 1v1 battle, winner gets to decide how you two get along. But the other part. . . just wants you to be okay—because I can see now that you aren’t exactly ‘okay’.”

“I’m okay.”

“But not okay.”

Odette thought again, thought better. “Okay. I’m not okay.” Just admitting it helped.

“So even though I’m frustrated, I’m supportive. I’m trying to push you, but I love you.”

Amanda offered a full-frontal embrace which Odette accepted with a soft, “I love you, too”. There wasn’t an edge to be felt on Amanda’s body. She was layer after layer of softness, topped off by her big, purple hoodie. It was exactly what Odette needed. She didn’t think once about how hard her boobies were being smashed, or how good they felt at being pressed against someone she loved—even though they were almost flattened and were blasting her brain with quasi-romantic feelings.

But her boobs were second. The connection was first. Romance was a distant memory, floating somewhere beyond the nest that she and Amanda created with their friendship.

She couldn’t help but compare that nest with the bubble that Theo had popped earlier. Why couldn’t he just go back to the way things were? All of Odette’s female friends managed to do so.

Odette sniffled as the two came apart about a minute later, the Fresh Farmer slowly returning to full volume around them.

“If you need help finding anything, call me. I could shop here with my eyes closed,” Amanda said.

“Sure.”

“And, if you need any help with anything,” replied Amanda, though this time she gestured to her chest a few loose taps. “Then let me know. I’ll try to keep the clean stall open in the bathroom.”

“So that’s why you said you needed to pee,” Odette smiled.

“No, I just need to pee. Now go, and don’t worry about Theo. He’s like a car, remember? Boys are like cars.”

Amanda helped sling the cart in the direction of the fresh produce, then went in the opposite direction.

Odette ventured into Fresh Farmer alone. She didn’t usually like doing things on her own. If it could be helped, she invited others or waited so that she could be part of a group. Even with strangers, she felt a little better having someone to relate to, whether it was an errand or a movie. She liked to share.

But now, she had a list and a mission. She wasn’t against it, and would do it if necessary, but didn’t see why, in a building full of people, she had to be so completely independent—especially because she was quite a ways away from working alone now anyway.

She heaved the large, rolling cart along, pacing over the cement ground, eyes on a swivel. The first item on the list was cooked chicken, which she ignored in favor of fresh fruits and veggies since she was already approaching the produce aisles.

Each colorful piece of produce looked like they might have been arranged neatly before. However, as Odette passed, she noticed that the grapefruit had all rolled from their plastic, blue divots and had settled at the bottom of the slanted shelf. Another shelf of red delicious apples had come to the same fate as an elderly gentleman picked up the remaining two dozen apples and set them back gingerly like they weren’t completely bruised and blemished.

The man shook his bald head, distressed at the quality he found the store in. In a clear produce bag, he held two, red delicious apples, the likes of which were probably the only two worth buying. He suddenly looked up and around, mindful of how long he’d been inspecting the fruit, and sensing another buggy nearby. When he saw Odette, he raised a dark hand and waved at her.

Odette smiled and waved back. She walked her buggy beside the man, blocking off both sides of the aisle and making an internal promise to pay attention to traffic while she chatted with the man so as not to block anyone from passing.

“I’m not in your way, am I?” said the old fellow.

“No, you’re alright.”

“Hope you weren’t looking for red delicious. They’ve been picked over pretty good, here.”

“I’m not. I’m looking for onions.”

“Red? Yellow? White?”

“There’s. . . a difference?” Odette glanced down at Amanda’s shopping list and found no color designations. It seemed like a pretty important thing, given that it was the first question asked by a stranger. “I might have to text Amanda and see.”

“Hmm. . .” sounded the man, who looked to be seventy now that Odette was right next to him. “I’d say there isn’t too much a difference, but you’re right. It’s good to be sure. What’s it for?”

“My friend’s sick. We’re making. . . soup, I guess? At least, we started off by making soup, but now we’re shopping for stuff that isn’t soup, so I’m not one-hundred percent sure.”

“May I?”

Odette handed the man the note with the ingredients while she fished out her phone. He brought a pair of glasses he had hanging around his neck up onto his nose. They sat crooked on his face because his nose curved like a “C” but he didn’t let it stop him. He studied the paper with his frosty gray eyes like the words were divinely inspired, then nodded and handed the paper back.

“What do you think?” Odette asked, text message sent.

“You have good penmanship,” said the man, stretching out the “good” part like a lyric in a song. He added a proud, grandfatherly nod that made Odette want to have good penmanship just to receive more praise.

“Sorry, sir, but that’s not my handwriting. That’s Amanda’s. She made the list. I haven’t written anything besides my name since, like, middle school.”

“And how long ago was ‘middle school’?”

According to Amanda? Maybe three minutes.

“Seven or so years?”

“Sweetie, at my age, seven years is nothing. Anyone younger than fifty looks like they could be my grandchild!” The man made a wheezing laugh at his own joke, and Odette was about to join his cackling when the old man looked stricken by a thought. “Oh! I’m sorry, I’m trying not to do that.”

“Do. . . what?”

“I’m trying not to call strangers ‘sweety’. The way I was raised, we would sweetie, honey, and darlin’ just about anyone. But you know, that stuff doesn’t fly now. Last thing I want is to be seen as the ‘grocery store creeper’.”

Odette furrowed her brow. “But you’re not a creep. You’re a nice guy. . .”

“Quinton.”

“You’re a nice guy, Mr. Quinton.”

“Well, thank you. But times are different and I’ve got to stay aware of how I’m comin’ across. And trust me when I say that I’ve got at least one good reason not to look like I’m talkin’ up younger women,” the man said. He held up both hands and used the index finger of one to tap a gold wedding band on the other. “Gotta keep the ladies in our lives happy, you know?”

Odette nodded, thinking of Pari, Amanda, and Janet. “Trust me. I know that way too well.”

“Yes ma’am. Now, you’ll want yellow onions as I think that’s some kind of chicken soup you’re going for. I’ll be on my way.”

“Sure. Thank you, Mr. Quinton. You’re a very sweet man—not creepy at all.”

“Thank you, thank you. Now, don’t go making your boyfriend upset with all’a ‘that.”

Odette was struck by the word, repeating it as if caught in a loop. “Boyfriend? B-Boyfriend?” The older black man tipped his head to the end of the aisle where Theo was standing. Despite her unspoken resolution to monitor both ends of the aisle, Odette hadn’t noticed him. Now that she had, she couldn’t help but feel exasperated by his presence.

Maybe she didn’t want to shop alone, but she also wasn’t ready to shop with her—ugh!—“Boyfriend”.

Mr. Quinton went on his way with his two apples, waving the hand with the wedding ring.

Odette thanked him with a smile, then spun back to snarl at Theo. She held him in an astonished expression and he immediately came over to try to make amends. In his buggy were a great deal of groceries.

Was it possible that he’d gotten them all?

“What are you doing here?” Odette asked.

“Umm. . .”

“Whoops. Okay, I know what you’re doing here.” Odette gestured to his cart, then went over to admire the enormous, industrial basket that was half-full of cans, bottles, and bags from various aisles. “Dang, you’re fast.”

“Turns out all the Fresh Farmers are laid out the same way. I go to the one across town, but since all the aisles are the same, I didn’t have much trouble.”

“Nice,” Odette beamed. Classic Theo, she thought, because Theo always had some reason or logic behind everything. He and Pari were similar like that, always able to hatch a plan and get things done.

When Odette turned to her own buggy and found it empty, however, she immediately felt her cheeks flushing and had to think of something to distract from her lack of success.

“Oh, yea,” she remembered. “What were you doing here? Watching me?”

Theo answered with a non-answer. “Umm. Erm. I just, uh—. . .”

“Well?”

A phone vibrated. Odette retrieved hers but found no reply message from Amanda. However, when Theo reached for his, it was clear by the movement of his eyes that he was reading over some message.

The words didn’t absorb him long, but they seemed to unnerve him a bit. His voice quavered as he replied. “No, I. . . I saw you looking confused and your phone was out. I thought you might be in trouble. I was worried, that's all.”

So he’s allowed to worry about me. . . Hmph!

“Oh. Well, I was confused, but I asked that guy for help and we ended up talking a little bit. I’m alright.”

“Just ‘alright’?”

“Yea, fine.”

“Just ‘fine’?”

“Great,” Odette threw her hands into the air then clapped them against her sides as she groaned. “Fantastic. Swell. Why are you so worried?”

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzzzzzt!

Theo’s attention returned to his phone again. This time, he stopped everything and consumed himself with replying to the message. His fingers nervously twitched and jerked, his eyes darting up every so often to look at Odette apologetically.

And although Odette was annoyed by him, she couldn’t help but feel sympathy. He seemed positively miserable, a bowl full of pent-up nerves all swirled together. He seemed to get even worse when Odette asked him questions, too. Suddenly, trying to get to the bottom of how Theo was treating her felt like bullying—which was unfair, as she felt like the one who’d been mistreated.

Thinking about it all hurt her brain.

She needed to do something. The way that she had gotten answers from Janet earlier, and the way she’d gotten Pari to agree to her taking charge in the first place were what she felt needed to happen now. If she didn’t start walking or talking or anything in the next few seconds, just might scream.

“Who are you texting?” Odette asked.

Theo locked up like a cornered cat at the question.

Whoops. No more questions.

Then, Odette remembered what Amanda had said, the story of gamer girl Odette, the one that marched in and took charge of the gaming club. It sounded a bit like what she’d done with Janet and Pari. It’s what she did all the time in ForeverAge 2 as a leader in her guild, too.

Just taking the lead.

“I-I mean, Theo!” Odette declared. She tried something else, embracing the moment Amanda had alluded to. “Since you’re done with your list, you should accompany me with my list. I don’t shop for groceries—I didn't even know that onions came in different colors.”

Theo started and stopped the same reply almost three times. He kept going back and forth from his phone to Odette, attention split for quite a while. When his message was sent, however, he dropped his phone and replied.

“S-Sure. But, umm, onions don’t come in ‘colors’ exactly. They’re just different types of onions.”

“See? This is why I need your help! C’mon,” Odette replied.

She abandoned her own buggy and started pulling Theo’s by the front, single-minded and already feeling better for doing so. When her legs were moving and her brain was given something to do, she felt more like herself. She went straight over to where Mr. Quinton had pointed and picked up a pair of light-brown onions, thinking they looked yellow enough. She then took a produce bag, tossed the two inside, tied the top of the bag, and set the bag into Theo’s buggy.

Theo had a curious look for her by the end of it.

Don’t lose the moment. You’re epic Gamer Girl Odette right now.

“Why use two buggies?” Odette said. “We can just share the one. Now, let’s get to the second thing.”

Theo’s expression brightened. “What’s gotten into you—. . .”

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzzzzzt!

But just as quickly as it brightened, it dimmed again and he raised his phone to reply to another message. It was yet another one that seemed to swallow him up, that made him stop whatever he was doing to answer. Odette was at a loss as to what could be so important, but knew she would spend the rest of the day shopping for the same, short list of groceries if she continued to have such sudden stops.

And, worse yet, she’d be forced to be alone and stationary with Theo nearby. That alone invited all sorts of uncomfortable thoughts.

If she didn’t get him off the phone, then the Flu Fighters and their mission were as good as done.

Take the reins.

Odette started to say something, but cut it off right away. No more words. . . They got her nowhere with Theo, anyway. Instead, she turned to face the front of the buggy, then climbed up onto the front rail, throwing her torso up and over the lip of the cart. Fortunately the cart was full, meaning that it could support her weight without tilting forward or flipping. Better yet, the extra height gave her extra distance and she was able to snatch the phone from Theo’s distracted fingers before he could react to her.

“. . .—Hey!”

“Mine!” Odette cheered. She held onto the buggy while she looked at the phone screen. She didn’t read the conversation so much as she squinted at the name at the top of the message: Neveah <3. “Now, you can have this back and continue your little chat with Neveah-less-than-three, but only if you promise that we get our shopping done.”

“Odette, gimme my phone.”

“Promise me.”

“Odette!” Theo reached forward over the handlebar of the buggy for a quick swipe.

Odette reared back just in time and grinned. It was a bit like a game of keep away, which was a fantastic way of lifting her spirits. “What?” she asked, innocent.

“I need that.”

“Oh, this?” Odette let the device dangle between her index finger and thumb. “Need your phone, Theo? Why? To chat with Neveah-less-than-three?”

“Yes!”

Theo swiped again. Odette skillfully evaded him. If he’d really wanted his phone back, he easily could have stopped and walked around the buggy to retrieve it, but Odette figured Theo was fine with playing along. He looked a little frazzled by it, but he also wasn’t putting forth much effort at retrieving the device.

“Odette, it’s super important that I have my phone on me,” Theo stated, frowning.

“Then promise you’ll only stop to text every few items. We’ll never get out of here if you have to update Neveah on your every move.”

“Wh-What? I-I would never update anybody on our every move.”

His nerves were back. She didn’t pressure him, though. She simply reinforced the rules of the game she’d started playing. “Promise me, Theo.”

Theo gave the shakiest grin ever, his teeth appearing like popcorn from a kernel: one at a time and with anxiety-inducing oddity. Then he lunged for his phone again.

“Oop! Almost got it that time,” Odette said, holding the device high above her head. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling.

Theo looked around at the other shoppers, most of whom were carrying on with their business. A few kids stood quietly and stared, but nobody dared to interfere. To Odette, it felt like she had remade the friendly bubble that had crumbled when they entered Fresh Farmers. Games with Theo were perfect. He seemed a bit confused by the rapid onset, but his heart was in it.

It wasn’t true normalcy, but normalcy drew nearer and nearer the more Theo reached for his phone.

Even his way of watching Odette’s breasts felt normal—and she didn’t expect to feel alright with that for a long while.

It was the way he held them in his gaze, though. When Theo was his old self, he was gentle with his eyes. It was as if Odette’s sweater puppies were just the easiest things to look at, rather than objects to lust over. He innocently glanced their way, almost unconscious, bouncing from them to Odette’s face, engaged with her.

And Odette, at the end of her giggle fit, sighed with relief. She felt seen, not watched.

Theo was back, if only for a moment. He even spared her a smile.

“Y-You are enjoying this way too much,” he said at last, draping himself over the buggy. His will to fight had vanished. His hair danced in his face freely, completely unguarded.

“One of us has to,” Odette replied.

“Fair.”

Odette lowered herself from the front of the buggy, taking an exaggerated step down and waltzing around the massive cage with wheels to extend the phone to Theo. After the minor conflict they’d just had, Theo eyed his own smartphone with doubt, but Odette’s arm remained steady.

“Do you accept my terms, Theo?” Odette smiled.

“I don’t have a choice, do I, Odette?”

“You always have a choice, Theo.”

“I’m not so sure I do, as you’re faster than me, Odette.”

“Looks like you need more training then, don’t you Theo?”

“I humbly request your training, Odette. A-And I request my smartphone,” Theo sighed. “Under the condition that I only text a few times per grocery item.”

“Deal.”

Theo nodded, then came around to share a side of the cart with Odette. With a tentative hand, he reached down to where his phone had been dangled. He paused a few times, looking to Odette for any sneaky changes, then looking down to her breasts again, fixated on them.

His eyes gave Odette an idea.

And thinking quickly, just as Theo’s fingers brushed the plastic siding of his cellphone, Odette ripped it away from him.

“Hey!” Theo barked.

Deftly, Odette opened the neckline of her shirt with her empty hand, tucked the smartphone against her left breast, and pulled her cardigan over the blouse to protect the spot. At Theo’s flushed gawking, she gave the outline of the phone a couple welcoming pats with the flat of her hand.

“There. Nice and snug,” Odette smirked.

“O-Odette. . .”

“When we find the next thing on Amanda’s list, you’ll get two minutes to do as much texting as you want. Until then, your phone is safe with me—. . .” Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzzzzzt! “Mmmh!”

A long series of vibrations rippled through Odette’s sensitive breast flesh. The pleasure from the mini massage was light but sudden and she couldn’t help the whimpering exhale that accompanied the tingling in her boobies.

“Odette! You okay? I-I—. . .”

“F-Fine,” Odette assured, grasping onto composure that had almost slipped. “Your phone just has really nice haptics, that’s all. So! Shall we?”

Theo’s eyes had darkened again, watching Odette instead of seeing her, too aware and thoughtful for her liking.

Fortunately, she was beginning to understand how to steer the situation back to a comfortable, friendly zone. She remounted the buggy, but instead of facing Theo, she faced out with her arms hooked backward to secure herself.

“Hurry! Let’s go!” she said, giddily.

“But Odette—. . .”

“Onward! To the carrots!”

“Gosh. . . you’re too much sometimes,” said Theo.

But from the sound of his voice, he was grinning. And shortly after, the cart shifted and lurched before moving forward at Theo’s pushing. The two were off to continue their shopping adventure, Odette in the driver’s seat of the situation. Now, all she had to do was keep things fun like a game and nothing would be able to throw them off.

Bzzt! Bzzt!

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzzzzzt!

“Mmmh!”

Almost nothing. . .