Humor Me

Chapter 2

Alberta had the nose of an aardvark, physically and mentally speaking. Obviously I’d never tell her that since I owed her my entire social reputation and fact she was my only acceptable peer.

But whenever we shared a vegetable salad, I was afraid when she leaned down, her cone shaped nose would take a swim with the lettuce.

Plus, it was tempting to not let any steam out when she stuck her nose too far into people’s business, specifically mine.

I watched her face bend into the bowl, nostrils sagging dangerously close to the tomatoes.

“This place is so nice!” Melonie’s blue eyes twinkled in horrible fascination at the coffee shop.

“Perhaps,” Alberta quipped after swallowing a forkful of cucumbers. The beige rice lanterns above us shined a dim light on her sun darkened skin. “The vintage atmosphere is more pleasant than the stupid fast food monstrosity across the street.”

“You mean McBurgers?” she asked with the same amount of enthusiasm.

“Yes.” She served a glance across the quiet, low-key room, expression flat and straight like her hair style choice.

The smooth sound of the cello faded and soft applause bounced off the creaking wooden walls. My other peer, Cleopatra stood up from the mini stage. Her glossy scarlet hair brushed her freckled cheeks as she bowed down and kept a mental tab to tell her to do something about that. Placing the cello aside, her heels clicked off the stage and she sat down beside us. “Hello, ladies.”

My eyes drifted over the menu. “Tie your hair. It’s all over the place.”

Her tucked her bottom lip in and placed her hand on her wrist, a hair tie not in sight. “Here!” Melonie piped and handed the ribbon she untied earlier. “You can use mine!”

She narrowed her eyes and carefully plucked it off her thin fingers. “Who does this child belong to?”

“Me,” I stated and placed the menu down. “She’s in our graduating class, if you must know. Now as respecting my duty as someone with such wisdom, I have chosen to bear my fruits of knowledge and give it to the poor, lower class.”

The ladies gave a two finger applause while Melonie sat there, dumbfounded.

Pity filled my chest and I explained to her, “We are letting you have access to our realm of knowledge and as highly intelligent beings, we will transform you from a little girl into a full grown woman of independence.”

Cleopatra measured Melonie’s big bust in one swift glimpse and pressed her lips together, a lace of envy at the tip of her voice. “I think you used the term ‘little girl’ incorrectly.”

Melonie stuck her hand out. “My name’s Melonie!”

“My name is, is Melonie,” I clarified and she apologized, introducing herself again.

“It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance,” Cleopatra said half-heartedly. Alberta gave a faint wave and occupied her other hand with the salad.

“Be nice, ladies,” I insisted and placed my menu down. A waiter quickly picked it up and I ordered, “A vegan muffin with an

iced coffee in a medium sized cup with extra ice, three pumps of hazelnut, two pumps of classic, an inch of non-fat milk, with a dome lid and no straw

.” I glanced over at Melonie. “And you?”

The deer-like blonde; ignorant innocence packaged within that skinny frame of hers, swept her eyes over the menu and then shrieked, causing the flower centerpiece to shake. “Ten dollars for a glass of orange juice?! Great son of dingleberry!”