Her First Bite

Fifteen | Blueberry muffins

I have one question. Just one. What is a girl supposed to do when a friend delivers Blueberry Muffins to their apartment?

And not just any random muffins from a random grocery store. No- these were from my soon to be work place. My favorite thing at said workplace. My favorite breakfast snack. Blueberry fucking muffins.

So once again I ask: what's a girl to-do? Do they send him a heart-filled text message? No, I don't think I could if I wanted to anyway. I don't have said friend's number. Do they ask said friend's sister to pass her brothers digits so I could thank him? Maybe, but I still needed to fully think that one out. Or do they wait until they get to school and just plant a big one on him? A big thankful kiss on him? Again, I don't agree with this one either because i needed to remind myself that we were friends and friends don't kiss.

And I had to repeat that same thought over and over inside my head yesterday too, when I saw him at Target. Yes, I went to Target after I was done with my whole introduction, opening process at Right by the Oven. Yes, I only went to see if I could get a peek at Vance. And I was right about my suspicions- he was there, at Target, in the underwear section. I hit it right on the head. And it seemed like something hit him right on the head as he turned his head around to greet me. I spooked him. Maybe it was because I was hiding behind one of the clothes racks? I wasn't being stalker-ish. I was trying to come up with a greeting other than cool. But then he spotted me in the mirror and that started a ten minute conversation. Also, it wasn't awkward as I thought it would be either. We even got in a laugh at some point.

We were officially friends.

And friends don't kiss. Friends don't think about kissing other friends. But do friends send Blueberry muffins to your apartment?

Maybe he was a giving person? A person who liked to give baskets of fruits or sweets? Maybe he was the Easter bunny?

An Easter bunny with a big dick.

Fuck. Okay people, this was the last time I was going to bring up his dick. I needed to cleanse. Cleanse myself of Vance but dammit this Big-Dick-Red-Riding-Hood basket of muffins really fucked with my head. And there I go with the dick shit. . .again.

Luckily, Erin came out her room and distracted me so I could stop these pervy thoughts. Well she didn't really help because when she spotted it on the counter she gave me this look. The it that she spotted was the damn basket.The basket that was full of one of my favorite treats. The basket that had a note that read, Video day today. Eat up. Don't want to hear your stomach say shit when you are in the front of the class.

Oh did I forget to mention the note? That was another reason why I was slightly freaking out about the basket. Yeah it could've been a little nicer. Sure. But this was Vance. The only 'nice' thing I would get out of him was just that apology. Also, he could've added on a baby at the end too but but we are friends. (Once again reminding myself of that title.)

And friends act this way right?

I ignored Erin as she played out a series of kissy faces, moans, and groans and went into my room to take a shower. And don't ask me why I was shaving everywhere. Don't ask me why I put on my most expensive (plus favorite) lotion. Don't ask me why I took a little extra time on preparing my face. Don't ask me why I put on my favorite jeans. Because then I would have to give you answer. An answer I sure didn't want to tell or explain. (The answer was that I wanted to look good for my basket-giving man)

But the main question was: why?

Twenty minutes later, Erin and I found ourselves in the car. A daily occurrence. (I was lucky that she didn't question my overly expressive effort I put into for today. On second thought, I bet she also ready knew). She dropped me off on her way to her job. This time instead of my backpack in my lap though, I had a ziplock of my muffin bag sitting there while my hand gripped around one of delivered muffins. Eating it slowly. Savoring the taste.