Nothing Better To Do
It was raining. There was nothing on television. There was nothing to read. Holly despised playing chess, and she wouldn’t be much of an opponent anyway. Artemis was sprawled on the couch, flicking through 112 channels, searching for something even vividly entertaining to watch. Holly was lying back with her legs across him, staring at the white ceiling and humming to herself:
“Rain, rain, go away,
Come again some other day.”
Come again some other day.”
With a sigh, Artemis flicked the television off. Holly looked over at him.
“Nothing?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Nothing,” he replied grumpily.
Holly looked outside wistfully. The sky was grey and thunder rumbled every few minutes. Lightning flashed when appropriate. Rain, rain, rain.
“So, how long are your parents away for?”
Artemis frowned and scratched his head. “Until tomorrow, at least. The rain has made the roads inaccessible.”
“Makes sense,” said Holly, and they both fell silent once again, listening to the rain tap, tap, tap on the windows.
“Bleearrrgh,” said Holly. “I’m bored.”
“So am I,” Artemis replied.
There was a pause.
“So… do you want to…?” Holly shrugged, “Cook something?”
Artemis made a face.
“Okay, no, then. Do you want to make Playdoh?”
Artemis looked at her blankly. “I’m not four years old anymore, Holly.”
“Did you even play with Playdoh when you were four?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“Do you even know how to make Playdoh?”
“No. Are you interested then?”
“No. I was searching for an opportunity to tsk at your lack of Playdoh-making skills.”
“And you found an opportunity to do so,” Holly poked him in the stomach with her toe. “So tsk all you like.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Artemis said, enjoying this playful bantering. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk…”
“That’s enough. Don’t make me hurt you, Arty.”
“It’s difficult to take you seriously when you call me by my pet name.”
“Whatever, Mud Boy. Do you even know how to make Playdoh?”
“No.”
“Tsk right back at you, then.”
The conversation died down, yet again.
“Want to go upstairs?” Artemis asked.
Holly shrugged and swung herself off the couch. “I guess there’s not much more we can do up there than down here.”
And they went upstairs.
Holly flopped face down on Artemis’ bed. Artemis flopped into his chair. They flopped around some more out of boredom. Holly sat up, her hair slightly ruffled.
“Want to make a fort?” she asked.
“A what?”
“You know, a little house made out of pillows and chairs and stuff.”
“Do you really want an answer to that question?”
“Forget it, then, if that’s going to be your attitude.” Holly flopped onto the bed again. “So… we’re here alone until tomorrow, there’s nothing on TV, you don’t want to cook anything, you don’t want to make Playdoh and you don’t want to make a fort.”
“But we don’t even know how to make Playdoh.”
“Whatever. But my point remains valid. What should we do?”
There was silence. And the temperature in the room went up a few degrees.
Holly turned away to hide her reddening face. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” Artemis said quickly. “You?”
“Nothing.”
Silence. Then…
“I can tell you were thinking something,” Holly said.
“I wasn’t thinking anything.”
“You’re Artemis Fowl. You’re always thinking something. Why did you pause?”
“I didn’t. Why did you?”
“I didn’t.”
“Yes you did.”
“No, I didn’t!”
“Did.”
“Didn’t.”
“Did.”
But they knew what they were both thinking.
“So… what do you want to do?” Artemis asked.
“Nothing!” came Holly’s irritated reply.
“Fine! Let’s just sit here and stare at the ceiling, then!”
“Okay then, let’s do that!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
Artemis flopped onto his bed beside her.
Holly sat up and looked at him. Her face was a little flushed.
There was silence. And Holly broke it.
“Do you want to have sex?”