WET BLUE PAINT
OLIVIA’S APARTMENT DOOR SWINGS OPEN TO REVEAL THE WOMAN HERSELF, CARRYING A CLEAR PLASTIC TOTE. She hauls it into the living room and drops it onto the floor, looking around at the wet paint on the walls.
Bruce hangs around in the doorway, looking around.
“You… painted the walls,” he points out, sounding understandably confused. She nods.
“My landlord offered to buy the paint as an apology for the wall taking so long,” she confirms with a small shrug. “I figured that was a good enough reason for me; why, don’t like blue?”
“No, no,” he denies quickly, “I like it. I was just confused. I mean, y’know, since you can’t… see color yet.” Olivia redirects her attention back to the wall; a pretty, pastel blue that reminds her a little bit of the sky.
“Alright, alright,” she sighs, dusting off her hands and turning to cross her arms at him. “Did you come to help, or gawk?” He blinks twice.
“Right,” he recalls, coming fully into the room. “Sorry, yeah— helping.” He pulls open a box, and the two of them start going through it. This one seems to be full of books and movies.
“Ooh, this is a good one,” she claims, holding up The Dark Knight. “Sequel comes out next month.” Bruce glances at it, and an amused smile forms on his face.
“I can’t believe you can still enjoy superhero movies,” he chuckles. She shrugs, putting it off to the side in a stack of movies to put away.
“They’re cool,” she claims. “It doesn’t feel as cool when it’s us, y’know?” He nods, putting a copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone off to the side.
“Yeah, that’s true,” he confirms. “I mean, I can’t even remember most of what happens when I’m uh… the other guy.” His expression turns somber. Olivia sighs.
“You’re not missing much,” she claims. “I mean, unless you’re super into dropping me on the floor. In that case I’ve got some bad news.” Bruce laughs, startled by the unexpected joke. She chuckles too, and Bruce picks up a book.
“Bleeding Colors,” he reads fondly. “God, I used to love this book. It drove me crazy when I—,“ he cuts himself off, staring blankly at his name scrawled on the inside cover. “This is my book.”
“What?” Olivia hums, looking up from the box at him. He turns the book so she can see his name on the inside cover.
“This is my book,” he repeats, now with a tone of disbelief.
“Uh, I guess,” she shrugs. “I think you gave it to me before you moved out.” His mouth drops open in indignation.
“I did not,” he denies. “I was looking for this for a week before I left, I thought I lost it. I was devastated— you stole my book!”
“Come on, be reasonable. I didn’t steal it,” she denies. “I was, like, 6 years old.” He shakes his head, not listening to her anymore.
“You told me you didn’t even like books,” he scoffs in disbelief. “I looked everywhere and you said you hadn’t seen it, but you stole it!” Olivia rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the box.
“It was 20 years ago, Bruce,” she reminds him, “I was a kid. I probably didn’t even realize I had it. Can we get back to unpacking?”
“I’m taking this,” he decides. Olivia’s head shoots up.
“Absolutely no you are not,” she refuses vehemently. “You cannot have it, it’s my favorite book.” He turns the book towards her again.
“It’s my book, you stole it from me, and now I’m taking it back,” he declares. “My name is on the inside cover, Liv.” She shakes her head.
“I don’t care whose name is on the inside cover. I’ve had that book for years, it’s mine, and I’m keeping it,” she states firmly, glaring at him.
“Call mom,” he replies. “She’ll tell you it’s absolutely my book.” She laughs disbelievingly, pulling out her phone.
“Maybe I will,” she huffs, “so she can tell you that you’re being completely ridiculous!” The phone rings three times, and then picks up.
“Olivia?” their mother greets, sounding a little confused. “What’s up honey, I thought you were supposed to be unpacking right now?”
“Mom, tell Olivia that she can’t just keep the book she stole from me,” Bruce sighs, shooting his sister a look.
“Or tell Bruce he’s being stupid, and it’s my book! I’ve had it for 20 years, you can’t just take it,” Olivia huffs. He throws his hands up.
“It’s my favorite book! You can’t just steal my stuff,” he protests. “You told me you didn’t even like it!”
“Careful Bruce,” Olivia huffs, “don’t get too worked up over a fucking book.” He shoots her a look.
“Don’t even go there,” he replies, annoyed. “I can control myself perfectly fine, I just want my book back.”
“Well it’s my book, and it’s my favorite, so you can’t have it,” she shoots back, sticking her tongue out at him at the end.
“Oh yeah,” Bruce scoff-laughs, “real mature Olivia. I guess I really didn’t miss anything, since you’re apparently still 5 years old.” Their argument is cut off by their mother’s laughter filtering through the phone.
“It’s nice to hear you two fighting like you used to,” she chuckles, “but the two of you are adults now. You don’t need to call your mother to settle every little dispute.”
“…we seriously called Mom over who gets to have a book,” Olivia recognizes, sighing. Bruce settles down, looking thoroughly chastised.
“Uh, sorry Mom,” he apologizes. “We’ll let you go. Uh, I’ll… call you to talk later.”
“Yeah. Bye,” Olivia calls out, an embarrassed smile on her face. After a still-amused “bye” from their mother, Olivia hangs up.
Bruce reluctantly offers the book to Olivia with a small, equally embarrassed smile.
“I, uh… already bought a new copy, to be honest,” he admits. “Sorry for kicking up such a fuss about it.” She takes it back, putting it in the stack with the other copies.
“It’s a good book,” she dismisses. “Let’s just get back to unpacking. If we have any more arguments like that, we’re gonna need to pick up the pace to make Tony’s party.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Wouldn’t wanna miss that.”