[2x16] "table 34" - post-convention

[singsometimes]

It is still all so vivid in her mind.

Sam had punched Nick in the throat - in the throat! - and then he left them there.

The kiss, she told him, hadn't meant anything to her.

(It didn't - really, it didn't.)

But it meant something to him.

She can't believe that they're over - and they're over because of Nick!


And now she's sitting here on the couch, about to pour herself a glass of rosé and listen to Taylor Swift.

It's the classiest, least pathetic way of suffering through a break-up that she can think of. She's a grown-up now. She can't stay cooped up in the apartment for weeks on end, watching Dirty Dancing in her pyjamas anymore.

It's weird though.

Maybe it's because she and Sam hadn't been together for very long, but ... she just doesn't feel like bawling her eyes out or holing herself up in her room with Joni Mitchell.

Honestly, she's tired. Tired and a little sad but not because of Sam.

Comments

[ihatedoors]

Really, Nick can't not recommend getting punched in the throat enough. You can't swallow, you can't talk... which, okay, in this instance is probably a good thing. Him and Schmidt have messed around in the past, but this is the worst he's probably ever felt.

And it has nothing to do with the girl in the next room with mascara rings around her eyes. Rings he put there. Because he's a stupid, impulsive, selfish dickweed.

Nope. Nothing to do with that at all.


So why does it feel like his sole mission in life now is to make her feel better?


"Hey. Hey, Jess, watch this," he says, snatching the broom out of the hall closet. He disappears, and all is quiet for several seconds.

Then, in a Doppler effect of slamming feet, he barrels into view of the living room, broom thrust between his legs, and for two and a half beautiful seconds he is flying. "I'M HARRY POTTER WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEE OHSHI-"

He crashes into the kitchen island and knocks all the pans on the floor.