The Masshole Strikes Back

Not a call, card, nor package came from him. It had been too ordinary for her liking and now she was anxious. This was very uncharacteristic of the Masshole. 

She paced through the room, the sharp clip of her heels filling the space. This scenario made her more uncomfortable than she'd ever been because of him.

"Dammit, Alexander," She huffed under her breathe. "Why can't you just get back at me already? Is your damn plan to drive me insane?"

Elizabeth looked over at the stack of presents she'd received on the twenty-sixth. New Jersey had bought her the movie '42' and a 'The Family Corleone,' neither of which she had any time on her own to read or watch prior. Connecticut sent her a bunch of gift cards to her favorite stores and some of the 'Wicked' books. The series was a surprise considering he usually just sent her money and tickets for them to go see a show she'd been dying to see on Broadway. A few of the other states had sent her stuff, but it wasn't anything meaningful. 

'It's the thought that counts,' She forcefully reminded herself.

America had sent her some Yankees memorabilia. Shockingly enough, Netherlands had even sent her favorite European blend with a twenty euros. She assumed this was a way of him telling her to put at least some of differences to him. 

'It worked, but he'll never know that,' Her lips turned upward in a wry smile. She couldn't deny that she loved giving him crap. It didn't matter that he was her "vader", he was easily irritated and she was a bitch. Always a bad combination. 

A hard knock on her door brought back her previous worries. She felt her heart drop and she walked nervously towards where her "gift" laid. 

It sat in the doorway and she recognized the New Englanders impatient scribble of her address. She sighed, silently accepting her fate. She had to admit that she brought it on herself. The only satisfaction was seeing him wearing navy blue and white. 

Which was definitely a major plus. 

New York dropped the cardboard box onto the counter, not caring if anything broke. She tore it opened. Better to get her hell over as soon as possible.

The box held two pictures, a set of car keys, and a note. She picked up the paper and quickly began reading, her brown eyes darting across the page and her eyebrows furrowing together. 

It read:

She dropped the letter on floor and took out the two pictures. They were worse than what she imagined. One was the whole Red Sox team holding a sign that sent her a birthday greeting and brought the rivalry on a whole new level of horrible. The next was Yankee Stadium on Opening Day, the winning play visible along with the Red Sox leading score. 

New York felt sick to her stomach and could feel her breakfast about to come up.

She threw the pictures back where they came from and scooped up the keys. She needed to get out of there fast and the only place she could think of going was to see her next gift in the parking garage. 

...

New York wasn't sure if this was worse than the pictures. But she was sure of one thing; of all the things he had done to her this, this was in the top five. 

Oh yeah, if she went out in this she would totally get killed. 

Underneath the windshield wiper was another note. By this point, she had lost all hope in her day and expected some letter from citizen cursing her out and calling her a "fucking disgrace to this fucking state" and that she should "get her Sox loving ass out before they shoot her." 

It actually turned out better than she expected. The smallest of smiles fell across her face as she read it. She was surprised that he could actually treat her semi-decent. 

Elizabeth let the letter fall into a puddle and got into her new car for an hour or so. All she would have to do is make it to her destination and that was about all she could manage. 

...

'Elizabeth,