It Can Only Be Sour For So Long Until It Turns Sweet

It Can Only Be Sour for Long Until It Turns Sweet (#SPKSAD)

My fingers tapped restlessly on the greasy table that I currently occupied in the cafeteria. My eyes darted to random people, random couples, and a frown began to pull at my features. It was nearing Valentine's Day, 10 days away to be exact, and my school was filled with pink hearts, disgusting couples, and stupid signs that read, "SIGN UP FOR THE VALENTINE'S DAY DANCE ON THE 14th!"

I wanted to puke my guts up and hibernate until it was over.

If you can't tell, romance isn't my thing. At 18, I've never had a boyfriend, and I'm not complaining. I'm perfectly content with my horrendous outlook on romance, even though my best friend, Janine, thinks otherwise. My eyes jumped towards one of the three lunch lines we had and I searched for fiery red hair. While looking for the red mass, I failed to notice that it was actually walking towards me until it slammed it's tray full of food onto the table.

I jumped at the loud clatter and moved my eyes to my side. Janine greeted me with a wide smile, her unruly red hair curling around her child-like face. "Hey Em! Sorry to keep you waiting. Those lines get longer and longer every day!" Snorting, I turned in my seat until I was facing her profile.

"Why don't you bring your own lunch then?" I glanced at her tray, the greasiest piece of pizza I have ever seen in my life filling my vision. Scrunching up my nose, I asked, "How can you even eat that?"

I watched as she plucked it up from her tray and took a big bite before humming contentedly. Between chewing, she said, "It's the best ever! The dough is soft, the pepperoni isn't charcoal black, and they give me such a big piece!" I stared at her blankly as I handed her a napkin as grease slowly trickled down her chin.

"So you mean you prefer pizza that could land you in the hospital for food poisoning rather than pizza that won't make you puke your intestines out?" Cutting her eyes at me, she snatched the napkin from my hands before wiping at her chin. "Personal preference Ember. Personal preference."

Snorting out a laugh, I shook my head and pulled out an apple out of my bag. Just as I was about to take a bite, Janine asked, "Is that all you're eating?" My teeth bit down into the apple as I bit off a juicy, slightly sour piece, and chewed. "I ate the rest of my lunch in third."

It was true. My math class was two in a half hours long, so I tended to munch on my lunch in order to keep me awake. It failed most of the time, but I'm convinced that if I keep trying, it will work one day. Janine shook her head as she laughed before taking another bite of her pizza.

We ate in silence for a few minutes before Janine let out a low whistle, followed by her saying, "Warning. Dorian Lowell is walking into the canteen. I repeat, Ember's life-long crush who she says she hates is walking into the canteen. Take cover!" I stopped mid-bite, my eyes cutting to the doors of the cafeteria.

Just as Janine said, the one and only Dorian Lowell was walking in, two of his close friends walking and laughing beside him. My eye twitched as I did what I do every time I see him; I quickly scanned him over, trying to find something to use against him one day.

His short black hair was styled perfectly, the sides shaved just right and the top a perfect mix of messy and intentional. Bright hazel eyes twinkled in the sunlight, making me squint. His slightly tight t-shirt clung to his muscled arms and well-sculpted chest and his faded jeans hung a little lower than they should have.

His smile was perfect; white, straight, and worthy of a toothpaste commercial. All in all, he looked perfect, like he did every day, and it made me grit my teeth and focus back on my apple. "You know," Janine started, sounding thoughtful. "I get that he stole your first kiss and said that it tasted like snot to all of your seventh grade class, but I don't get why you hate him so much. That was what, six years ago?"