Ladder Leads to Like-Like

Word Count: 563

“Marty, it’s way too low!”

“What d’you wan’ me to stand on tiptoes at the top o’ the ladder?”

Astrid was scrutinizing the position of the papermache moon that should be dangling high from the ceiling. The dance committee had assigned her the impossible task of single-handedly decorating the gym for the winter formal. Luckily, she had managed to recruit her neighbor as a helper. Except, he seemed to be giving her more trouble than assistance. She scrunched her nose trying to figure out how to hide the lingering stink of sweat and transform the boring expanse of space into something magical.

Shouting up the ladder, she said, “Oh, Marty, girls are going to be prancing around here in heels. One of them’s gonna hit their head!”

“Oh please, the girls in this school aren’t that tall. I mean, what are you thinking? That they’ll be strapping 5-foot platforms to the bottoms of their feet or something?”

Astrid stuck her hands on her hips and protested. “Honestly, Marty. Do you have to be so difficult? I’ll have you know some girls are very self-conscious about their height.” She sniffed, and looked away indignantly. “And, I mean, aside from that, you’ve seen Grease and movies like Back to the Future II. What if we have someone pulling a fancy dance move, you know,” she paused a second to shrug. “I dunno. With flips and stuff?”

Marty blinked at the girl below him who had her arms stubbornly crossed. This woman is decidedly mad, he decided. “Flips, Astrid? Flips?! The dance team has trouble with the can can. The cheerleading squad refused to do a pyramid because they were afraid of toppling over. Flips? Where did you come up with such a ridiculous ide—ahhhh!!!”

Astrid barely had time to gasp before dodging out of the way of the falling ladder. “Marty!” she screamed. Sliding across the floor towards him. He wasn’t moving. “Oh god! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! Are you alright? Are you—oh, oh! Please, don’t just lie there. Say something, please!” she was kneeling at his side, tears about ready to push their way out of her eyes. She reached out a hand to touch him. “Oh, Marty,” her voice was cracking. “I didn’t even get the chance to ask you to the dance.”

He groaned, “Ow.”

“You’re alive! Oh, Marty. I’m sorry I made you go up there. Who cares about that stupid moon? You were right. It didn’t need to be that high.”

“Oh?” he said, cringing and struggling to sit up. “So, it’ll be fine where it is, then?”
Astrid looked over and saw the moon split open like a pinata on the gym floor. Her jaw dropped.

“The art teacher’s gonna kill me.”

“Well, I’ll be here to pick up the pieces. The broken moon and your body parts after she dismembers you.”

He was sitting up now, grinning, and she was glaring at him. “I can’t believe you! You were just lying there to scare me. You're not hurt.” she gave him a light shove.

He flexed a muscle, "Untouchable. Like a superhero."

"Aagh. You drive me nuts."

"It was worth it, you know. To scare you like that."

Astrid blushed, realizing than in her panic she had admitted she wanted to go to the dance with him. Marty just shrugged. “I mean, it did get you off my back about that moon.”

“Marty!” she started…..

But the kiss he planted on her cheek didn’t let her finish.