It Can Wait Until Tomorrow--Spanna
It was a quiet Saturday night in a small New York apartment. Spencer had several books open on the coffee table and was typing away furiously on her laptop. She had a paper due on Monday, and she had no idea what she was writing about. She enjoyed her criminal justice class, but for some reason she was at a loss with this assignment. It was a strange feeling for her, one that transported her back to her junior year of high school when she’d copied Melissa’s Russian History paper. But now she was on her own, without her older sister’s old assignments. She glanced at her word count and groaned. She was only three hundred words into a two thousand word paper.
She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t hear the front door being opened.
“Hey, babe,” Hanna greeted, making Spencer jump. Apparently crime didn’t mix well with being snuck up on.
“You’ve been working on that all weekend. Aren’t you done yet?” Hanna asked, plopping down on the couch next to her. Spencer glared at her girlfriend, who had put her feet on the coffee table, knocking over one of her books. She bent down to pick up the book. The Art of Criminal Justice. She rolled her eyes at the title. There was nothing artful about criminal justice, at least as far as she could tell.
“No. I’ve had to start over like four times. And get your feet off the table before you break it,” she ordered. Hanna sighed, but moved her feet.
“Can’t you take a break? Just a short one?” she asked. Spencer shook her head and reached for her coffee.
“No way. This is due Monday and I’m only a fourth of the way through it,” she said. Hanna rolled her eyes, then narrowed them as she noticed Spencer’s bouncing foot.
“And what number cup of coffee are you on?” she asked. Spencer shrugged.
“I dunno, it’s the second pot,” she said. Hanna grabbed the cup.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, her voice rising to an extremely high pitch. Hanna raised an eyebrow.
“I’m cutting you off. You’re going to have a heart attack if you keep going at this rate,” she admonished. Spencer gave her a pout.
“I always drink this much coffee. And I need it if I’m going to get through this paper!” she protested.
“You need to take a break. When’s the last time you ate?” she asked. Spencer thought, realizing that she couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten. Breakfast? Or had she just had coffee that morning?
“That’s it, come on,” Hanna ordered, stealing Spencer’s laptop. Spencer squealed in horror, imagining all of her hard work being erased.
“Wait! Be careful! I need to save that!” she exclaimed. Hanna squinted at the screen—she knew she needed to get glasses at some point, but she was still resisting—and pressed the save button.
“Okay, it’s saved. It’s not going anywhere. I’m going to make a couple of grilled cheeses and you’re going to come into the kitchen with me and eat dinner, got it?” she asked, leaving no room for protest. Spencer rolled her eyes.
“You’re overreacting, Han!” she called after her girlfriend. Knowing that the other woman wouldn’t give up until she got her way, Spencer saved her document (just in case Hanna hadn’t done it right) and closed her books before joining her girlfriend in the kitchen.
“I still need to finish that,” she warned. Hanna shook her head, pushing a glass of water to Spencer.
“It can wait until tomorrow,” Hanna said. Spencer pursed her lips, but decided not to argue. After all, she was pretty tired. And maybe she’d have an easier time getting into the writing groove tomorrow. Still, she wasn’t about to let Hanna know she was right.
“Are you going to let me work on it tomorrow?” she asked. Hanna pretended to be offended.
“I always let you work!” she protested. Spencer raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, forgive me for making sure you don’t run yourself into the ground,” she said. Spencer shook her head, amused by the look on Hanna’s face. It was a mixture of guilt and indignation, and it was absolutely adorable.
So maybe she wasn’t going to get any more work done tonight, after all. There was always tomorrow.