Jaded

[47] The Roaming Boar

It's been two weeks since Atty and Jay 'talked', and to this day neither of them has given me any details on how it went. The most I got out of Atty was that the talk was 'eye-opening'. I mean, I know it's none of my business, but God I'm so curious.

I blame Mama for this nosy part of me. My entire extended family from her side is a clan of snoops; so, I can't help it, it's literally in my blood.

On the bright side, the outcome of Atty and Jay's talk was spectacular. Jay somehow harassed Atty into agreeing to let him fully pay for one of our dates. Apparently, sending Atty and I off to the "Roaming Boar Carnival" is Jay's way of apologizing. Pfft, I'm not complaining, I love colorful, gaudy, places with a shit ton of distractions and more junk food than I can imagine.

So now here we are, two weeks later, sitting in the parking lot under the scorching sun. The carnival grounds are completely packed, people are bursting from the seams of this place. It's probably because today is the last day the Carnival is in town.

"Crap," Atty mumbles, craning his neck to the right as his eyes trace the constantly growing line of people snaking out from the entrance. "It's wrapping around the corner. My feet hurt just looking at it, holy shit. I'm so sorry we couldn't come earlier."

I pat his shoulder, grinning. "You had a deadline coming up, I had three massive tests. It happens. But what are we going to-" I instantly stop mid-sentence, my words getting caught in my mouth as I fixate on the far-right corner of this parking lot.

There is a pigeon perched at the edge of one of the overflowing tin dumpsters scattered around the premises. This pigeon, in all of its tiny-bodied glory, is fighting a seagull dwelling on the ground.

"Oh my god, look," I exclaim, grabbing Atty's chin and turning his head towards the clash.

His eyes go wide, a smile instantly forming. "That pigeon's fighting a losing battle."

"That's ridiculous, Pidge clearly has the higher ground- that seagull bastard is going to get his ass handed to him."

Atty scoffs, "in that case, want to bet on it?"

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. He continues, "since this is you I'm dealing with, we'll make it worthwhile. Loser gets the winner an entire box of cookies."

This time I'm the one who scoffs. "Coward. Make it 10."

"What in the hell are you going to do with 10 boxes of cookies?! You live in a bakery!"

"Ah, so you admit it, I'm going to win." Before Atty can respond, I add, "and also, I don't live in a bakery, my house just constantly smells like one. And also, Mama's book club ladies got into her head about the dangers of sugar, so my cookie intake has been compromised- 10 boxes is the least I'm willing to bet on. Which reminds me, you'll have to store them for me too."

Atty leans his head against the passenger side window and laughs for a good minute. When he's finally simmered down, he says, "Sure, okay. If the pigeon wins, I'll get you 10 boxes. But when the seagull wins, you'll get me a coffee maker."

I nod, "deal." Little does he know, I already got him a coffee maker, courtesy of a series of mildly-unfortunate events at dad's station.

We both watch intently, holding our breath as the pigeon and the seagull peck and shove each other. The pigeon gets a really good wing swipe in, but the seagull counters with what can only be described as the perfect marriage of a classic wrestling flip and Auntie Julietta's drunk dancing. It goes back and forth for a bit, but eventually the seagull lands a solid peck to the neck (it was really more of a stab) and the pigeon stumbles back, then flies away- taking my victory away with him.