Three-Bean, Four-Cheese Freezer Burrito

The three-bean, four-cheese, freezer-section burrito had been thawing in the fridge overnight. Renée retrieved it and wrapped it in a paper towel, plopped it on a cheap, plastic plate, and tossed it into the microwave. She pressed the number 1, and leaned back against the counter while the appliance worked its magic. It was one of those skimpy, Taco Bell-sized burritos, and "three-bean, four-cheese" might just describe the quantity of filling rather than the variety. But, having slept in until 11 a.m., a zero-effort breakfast is the best kind of breakfast.

The burrito was to be a pleasantly lazy start to a day of freedom. Asher, her roommate was out, and Renée had the place to herself. It was a rare opportunity to really relax. There was no telling when a chance like this would come again. They both worked from home, and they were both practically shut-ins. One would think they'd be perfect for each other. They got along, but there's nothing like moving in together to test a friendship.

Renée woke her phone and tapped on Discord. There were new messages in virtually every channel in each of the dozen serves she was in. She never read them all, and she kept the notifications to a minimum. If someone wanted her attention, they could at her. But Renée liked to lurk and see what everyone was up to, and to share the occasional meme. One of the meme channels had a fresh video compilation of cats falling off of tables. Renée smirked and tapped the link.

Wrong move. The Google Home speaker was on, and it was on loud. A jolt of electricity shot down her back as hisses and meowls screamed forth from somewhere behind her. She tapped the screen again.

God dammit, Asher. Renée liked the quiet, but Asher needed noise. They didn't like to keep the noise to themself, either. Renée didn't always mind the music or the videos playing in the background. She liked that stuff too. She wasn't a psychopath. But sometimes Asher would burst into song at the most annoying moment possible, or absolutely wreck the peace and quiet with a spur of the moment drum solo on the nearest piece of furniture.

Renée sighed and opened the fridge. For that transgression, Asher now owed her a wine cooler. She knew they wouldn't mind, but in the moment it felt good to take something of theirs. She popped the top and took a sip of strawberry. She listened to the whirring of the microwave.

She hadn't actually planned anything for this glorious day off. Let the day be spontaneous, she thought. Her spontaneity said a movie may be in order. Or maybe a show? Almost without thinking, Renée navigated to the HBO Max app she hadn't opened in a year. Yes, she decided, today is the day to reactivate that subscription. The app even remembered her payment information. Done and done.

Before Renée could start browsing the catalog, a Snapchat notification appeared on the screen. The only person Renée communicated with via Snapchat was her sister, Lisa. Sending silly selfies helped them feel connected. However, with both sisters being way older than the app's target demographic, neither of them were very adept at using its other features. Renée tapped the notification.

It was a video message. Lisa had forgotten how to record in the app, so it was only three seconds long. Lisa was outside. It was windy and the sky was cloudy, Renée noticed. It occurred to her that she hadn't checked the weather or even looked out the window since yesterday. Thee three-second video showed Lisa fumbling with the phone while dropping panicked cuss words.

"Shit, shit, shit, Renée!"

Renée giggled. The burrito in the microwave sizzled and made a small pop.

A second video appeared. Eight seconds. She pressed the play button.

"Renée, it's Asher!"

Uh-oh.

Over Lisa's shoulder, red and blue lights flickered ominously.

"They pulled a car from the lake," Lisa continued breathlessly, "It's Asher's car! They said there was a body."

Well, shit. A third video came through. Renée sighed and let it play. Lisa had pulled the phone close to her face to lower her voice, though it didn't look like anyone was near enough to hear.

"What happened, Renée? What the fuck did you do?"

This news had arrived a lot sooner than expected. So much for the day of freedom. Renée pocketed her phone and chugged the wine cooler. The microwave beeped a few times to announce that the burrito was at a consumable temperature. On the heels of the final beep, a distant police siren faded in.

Guess I jumped the gun on that HBO purchase, Renée thought to herself. Could she even get a refund on a streaming subscription? Well, there wasn't time to find out. Not right now.

Fortunately, it would only take another 60 seconds or so to down that shitty, barely cooked, three-bean, four-cheese freezer burrito.