The Fifty-Second Apple Pie

I smiled tiredly as I took orders. Even as a part-time job, working at McDonald's was a pressure.

“lover boy didn't show up?” asked Lilly, my coworker.

"We're just friends,"

"There's chemistry,"

“So? I'll never be more than the waitress from McDonald's.” I muttered.

“Waitress my ass,” she scoffed. “You're friends. He comes for you, writes you letters, and gets you flowers,”

"Whatever," I brushed her off then went to the restroom.

When I was done with my business, I got out and walked back to the counter.

“He dropped by quickly. But left this,” She said, smiling knowingly, handing me an envelope.

“give me,” I snatched the letter. I carefully opened it, my heart beating with anticipation as every time I received one, longing for the fuzzy feeling it left me with. However, this was one sentence.

The apple pie was almost as sweet as you are, Britt.

-Ryland the sexy ninja.

 

I smiled at the signature.

He called me sweet.

Another line was at the bottom.

P.S. Meet me near the library at 5.

It was almost five already. I felt light-headed as I started imagining impossible scenarios.

I need to calm down.

“I have to go,” I said hurriedly. "Bye!"

I walked down the road with my work clothes and my messed up hair. gorgeous.

When I arrived, no one was there.

My eye caught something on the library stair. Relief and excitement rushed through me.

I picked up the envelope and opened it carefully.

my fifty-second letter from Ryland.

Brittany,

Fifty two weeks ago, I walked into McDonald's to get an apple pie. I met this girl. She was broken. Her smile was fake. She looked tired.

Someone treated her wrong and broke her heart. I was never the person who cared. But she was different.

We talked, I visited her at work every week, we became friends, and we got closer. I wanted to do things  just to see her smile. Because her smile was beautiful.

Time passed, and I realized it was something more. This was new. I thought it would go, but it never did.

I remember the day we met. Fifty-two weeks ago. One day before Valentine.

 

Fifty two weeks. It's been a year. I never paid attention to the day we met.

My heart was racing with every word I read. It was beautiful and confusing at the same time.

One year and you changed me. And now I realize why I wanted to make you smile. I fell in love. So, here I am. Overcoming my fears.

Brittany, will you be my Valentine?

be my always, will you be mine?

I'm not a poet, but I hope tonight,

that those couple lines actually rhymed.

 

“What do you think, Britt?” someone's voice snapped me out of my trance and I met his blue eyes, they gleamed with excitement.

Ryland.

He was grinning, strands of dark hair fell over his eyes. And a bunch of roses was in his hand. My tears of happiness were flowing freely, now.

I didn't know what to do or say.

I love him.

What I did next said everything. And it took every ounce of bravery I had.

I hugged him tightly, taking in the scent of cinnamon and honey, before I tip toed and claimed his lips with mine. The feeling of him so close, the feeling of this kiss. It was perfect.

They say falling in love could take years. But love comes any time. Love just happens.

To me, it took fifty two weeks, fifty two letters, and fifty two apple pies.