The Incident

There was a sort of tranquility in the chilly March air, as the sun dipped below the horizon with a dying orange glow. The porch between dorms 10 and 11 was covered in a soft, fuzzy blanket, and a picnic basket cast wavering wicker shadows by the light of half a dozen heart-shaped candles. It was a special dorm dinner celebrating a special occasion – the one-month dating anniversary of John Dutchman (Dorm 10) and Emily Dutchvoman (Dorm 11). The two lovebirds had met at the beginning of the school year, and after working up the courage to tell each other their feelings - and a DNA test, because John didn't know all of his cousins and impromptu Dutch Bingo is a very real and terrifying thing– they'd finally started going out, to the joy of both their dorms.

Emily was already sitting on the blanket, surrounded by her dormmates. She was literally glowing, as in, the candlelight was orange and making her glow. But she was also glowing emotionally. John's dormmates were there too, on the opposite side of the blanket, all of them either on their phones or watching the grass grow. John was late, but Emily didn't care. She smiled adoringly at him as he ran from the campus building to the porch, one arm tucked behind his back. A hush came over her dormmates, and they all stared at him expectantly as he approached, slowing down and catching his breath. John sat down next to Emily, smiled, and put his free hand in hers. "Happy one month, Em." He took his other hand out from behind him, placing a large cardboard box in her lap. "I got you these."

As Emily stared at the 6-pack of Tim Horton's donuts in her lap, the color slowly drained from her face. She glanced at her dormmates in confusion, then back at John. "Is that it?" She tried unsuccessfully to keep the smile on her face.

"I'm not sure I follow," John said. "They're all Boston Creams. That's your favorite, right?"

Next thing he knew, a Boston Cream had been hurled into his face at full speed. He fell backward and instinctively curled into the fetal position to protect himself. "What was that for?"

Emily jumped to her feet, clutching the box and readying another sugary projectile. "You know darn well what that was for!" Her dormmates gathered around her, forming a half-circle of glaring disapproval.

"I'm not sure I do," John said, wiping the donut out of his eyes and quickly rolling to dodge another. "Wait! Wait. Let me guess. You don't like Boston Creams?" He frowned. "But that doesn't make sense. You just had one yesterday and told me they're your favorite. That's why I-" he rolled to the side as a third donut splattered on the blanket "-why I got these."

Emily glared at him in response.

"What am I missing, guys?" John asked his dormmates. He turned just in time to see the last one shuffle inside and lock the door behind him. Another donut hit the door and slid down the window, leaving a trail of chocolate and cream. "Can you just tell me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Emily asked. She stared daggers at him and slowly drew her arm back to throw another donut, but Gary the security guard misread the gesture and took it from her hand as he walked by on his evening rounds. She used the final donut to nail Gary in the back of the head and turned back to John, who was getting dazedly to his feet. "What month is it?"

John raised an eyebrow. "March."

"Exactly. What season begins in March?"

"Spring."

Emily raised her left hand and pointed to her ring finger. John's eyes widened.

"Wait wait wait, you can't mean-"

"It's almost spring! Where is my ring?" Emily shouted angrily.

"A poet and you didn't even know it?" John said weakly.

Emily brought the donut box down on John's head. "I DON'T EVEN LIKE POETRY!"

"We've only been dating for a month!" John protested. "That's a little early for rings, don't you think?"

Before Emily could respond, likely with an anecdote about her cousins who got married after only two weeks of dating, and conveniently leaving out the part where they split up after only two more weeks, John's dormmate Ben slowly opened the front door and stepped into the conflict, holding something in his hand. "You're not you when you're hungry." He opened his fist to reveal a warm, warped chocolate bar and offered it to Emily. "Snickers satisfies."

John and Emily stopped arguing and stared at Ben in complete confusion. Several minutes of silence followed. Somewhere in the distance, a goat screamed.

"Well, it was worth a shot," Ben said awkwardly, reaching behind his back for the doorknob. "I'm gonna go back inside now."

The door creaked shut, and Emily's confused angry face began to melt a little. A giggle escaped her lips. "What the heck was that about?"

"I honestly have no idea," John replied. "But I'm gonna use this weird break to suggest a truce. We clearly have a lot to talk about, but we should probably sleep on it first." He yawned and looked up at the sky. "And this story's starting to get a bit long, right everyone?"

"Who are you talking to?" Emily asked, following his eyeline.

John shrugged. "Nothing. Just a weird feeling. Let's go to bed. See you tomorrow?"

Emily nodded with a small smile. "Yeah."