xoxox OMAR xoxox
Lindsay hated choices. Because it required her to make decisions. And any decision that couldn't be solved by buying all the sales was nerve-racking. There was just so much at stake. What if she cost her team the challenge? What if the universe exploded into a jillion pieces? What if the toenail polish didn't match her fingernails? Or worse...what if Heather disapproved? Oh, if only she were here right now. How else could she make such a life-changing decision?
"What about the banana parfait? Is it high in potassium, because my nutritionist says not to eat anything with preservatives."
The cute guy working the tuck shop placed his elbow on the counter and rested a hand on his cheek. His eyes were heavy and he took a long breath. He was obviously checking her out.
He groaned. "Ma'am could you please hurry up and order? You're holding up the line."
Or not.
"Sorry," Lindsay sputtered, pointing a wavering finger at the menu. "I'll have, um, how about-"
"Hey there, Lindsay! Something wrong?"
The girl in crisis looked up to see a big ball of fun named Owen smiling down at her. She knew where he had come from. His repugnant body odor told her ten minutes ago that he was supposed to be next in line. Oops.
"Nothing," she replied, feeling greatly at ease in his stinky presence. "I'm just not sure what to buy."
"I know, there's just so much to choose from!" He laughed his signature laugh, and Lindsay couldn't help but smile. She doesn't think he totally understood her, but maybe that's her problem. Maybe she wasn't looking at things the way she should be.
Owen continued. "You mind if I order first? All this standing is making me hungry." He said this more with eagerness than anything else. She instantly felt guilty.
"Sure." Lindsay stepped aside and leaned against the wall as Owen took her spot up front. She took too long. Again.
"What can I getcha', big guy?" The cashier straightened up with renewed interest.
Owen's eyes lit up as he spoke. "I'll have three boxes of Nanaimo bars, four trays of pizza bagels, a plate of poutine, and a diet cola." He turned his attention to Lindsay and whispered. "I'm trying to cut down."
Lindsay gasped and covered her mouth, very much scandalized.
"Sorry, man. Out of cola," the cute tuck shop boy shrugged apologetically. "All we have left is Raspcherry Soda Pop."
Owen's stomach growled. "I'll take it!"
A crate of bottles were slammed down on the counter, and Lindsay noticed a line of drool dripping out of Owen's mouth. Ew.
"Ooh, I've never had Raspcherry Soda before." She lifted up a bottle and scrutinized the pink contents inside. "Is it anything like Grape-tastic?"
"Beats me, but who cares? It's free!" Owen proceeded to grab another bottle and chug it down in only a matter of seconds. The scented burp that followed did nothing to help.
Lindsay gagged as Owen proudly wiped his face with his stained T-Shirt. She found his behavior absolutely repulsive, yet oddly comforting in some ways. He was loud, gassy, and didn't care that his sneakers were so last season. The big guy never burdened himself with important matters like forks or soap. How lucky. He was everything Lindsay never was. Everything she couldn't afford to be.
With a shrug of her shoulders, Lindsay brought the bottle to her mouth and took a modest, almost negligible sip.
Oh. My. Gosh.
"So, how is it?" Owen inquired.
"Not bad," Her eyes were fixated on the bottle Owen still had in his grasp. "Uh, are you gonna finish that?"
Fifteen bottles and a puking later, Lindsay regretted nothing.
xoxox
Coming up next...Doug and murder.