Ice To Meet You

A-dick-ted

"That is not how she sees it," I inform the oblivious man and he shrugs his shoulders in a typical fuck boy manner. How did I forget? Guys like him apparently don't care about feelings that us girls have. They are here to shoot and leave, leaving us hanging behind. Why is it that when a guy is concerned, no matter how pretty, sexy or talented a woman is, she suddenly becomes relatable? 

"You don't care that she cares about you?"  I should be relieved that he isn't emotionally invested in her but somehow I feel worse. Were all the rumors I heard about him, right? He is known for leaving behind an array of broken hearts in his wake. 

"You are grossly misinterpreting the situation," he interjects my sequence of thoughts. What other interpretation is possible of the chaos that I witnessed at the ball? You make a girl meet your mother and bring her to the ball, how is she not supposed to be possessive of you? Why am I ready to go to battle for a girl I did not like 5 minutes ago? 

Is there an unknown bond between women who get played by fuckboys? 

"Sophia clearly has strong feelings towards you that you are disregarding," I can't help but give him a crumb of my mind. How can any guy be so ignorant and cold towards a girl like Sophia? Am I overreacting because deep down, I am petrified that if he can treat a girl like Sophia this way, where do I stand?

"Are you trying to make yourself feel better by assuming you have a chance?" Inner bitch nags and I ignore her. 

Kent's phone buzzes and he parks his car in front of a restaurant that has a cute black bear made out of the stone near the door. A woman in her teens comes out with a huge box of food and hands it to Kent.

"Thank you so much for your order Mr. Kent," she says blushing. Kent smiles at her, and she bites her lips in embarrassment. The effect he has on women is lethal. He should come with a warning label.

"William Kent is an experimental drug known to cure female libido but is yet to receive FDA approval, pending as of 2011. He first entered the market for his loyalty to his frat and his farsightedness to network early on at Wall Street. He is known to reduce the risk of sexiness going extinct." Inner bitch says in a tone that they use in commercials I hear at my grandma's. She is holding up a banner that says 'PROCEED WITH CAUTION, KENT AHEAD' in red. 

I take a deep breath to stop myself from laughing out loud.

"Side effects include

· women falling head over heels in love for his wit, charm, and good looks.

· Not getting replies to texts may lead to low self-esteem, self-doubt, and heartbreak." Inner bitch adds on, and I can't help but giggle a little. She is on a roll today. 

"Don't forget addictive and habit-forming in nature," the inner voice adds. I have missed her tremendously, and I am so glad she is finally is back from her vacation in Hawaii. I wish I could give her a welcome back hug, but she knows she is loved. 

"Mia look at the cigarette pack near the cup holder," inner voice instructs me. I do.

"Pick it up," she commands. I do.

"Look at the warning label," I blink my eyes twice to force my vision into clarity. 

Inner bitch reads out the warning label to me. "Women who are exposed to secondhand Kent are inhaling many of the same habit-forming substances and developing girlfriend like feelings. Non-girlfriends who are exposed to secondhand Kent increase their risk of developing a crush by 80%." Is William Kent the cigarette pack of my life?

"Flip the package, Mia," she states. I do. 

There is another warning label that she reads out to me. Thank god all this is happening in my head or Kent would find out what a psycho I am. 

"Quitting at any age and at any time is beneficial. It's never too late to quit, but the sooner, the better. Quitting gives your heart a chance to heal from the damage caused by William Kent."

What is my inner voice trying to say to me?

"Mia..." William softly purrs my name. I look up from the pack, and there he is, holding a hamburger with lettuce and bacon arching out from the sides. Is there a better accessory a man can don than food? 

I can't resist the temptation the burger or the man pose, and I keep the cigarette pack aside. I take the humongous burger in my hands and open my mouth to take a bite. I fail because of how plump it is, and I press the top of it with my palm to prevent the banana pickles and cheese dripping from the other side. It tastes as good as it looks.

I take three heavenly bites and keep it down, my hands soaked with mayo and oil. I wipe my hands with the tissue and keep the burger down. That is enough calories for the day.

"Can you pass me some fries?" I ask Kent. He is almost done with his burger and man can he stuff his mouth. He can chow down and clean his plate rapidly. 

He passes sweet potato fries and fries that look like hand-cut potato wedges. There is no way I can afford to have 12 of those since 3 of McDonald's fries = I of these. I can have 4 fries, but since sweet potato fries have more calories, I can have 2 of regular fries and one of sweet potato.

"Do you want some buttermilk ranch or ketchup?" he asks while wiping his face. If I pick ranch, I can only have 2 fries, and I want to have 3, so I decline the offer.

The potato fries still have their skin on and are blazing hot; I am so glad I picked to have two of these. The sweet potato fry melts in my mouth and if only I had taken one less bite of the burger...

The sweet potato fry is so succulent that I want to eat all the fries in the brown bag and then lick the grease stains on it too.

"Behave, Mia, you don't want to be fatter than you already are," inner voice reminds me, and I wish the fries a farewell.

"You won't finish your burger?" Kent asks raising his eyebrow at me.

"Not all of us are undercover pigs. I'll finish it later," or give it to Hannah, I hiss. She'll probably love it.

"You've hardly eaten anything," the blind man comments. I wrap my leftover burger in the silver wrapping and put it back in the box. 

"Tell me more about your's and Sophia's relationship..." I probe. For one it will take the attention away from me and two, I really want to know.

"You don't want to know," he says and starts the engine.

"Have you been to the river here?" he inquires following the protocol of dodging every question ever thrown at him. I won't let him.

"No, I haven't been to the river. Stop ignoring my questions." I scold him.

"Sophia and I met during a threesome. Do you want some ice-cream?" He asks, and he's hell-bent on changing the topic. How does a threesome even work? I know the specification and mechanics but how do you convince someone to hop in your bed and join you for a fuck?