Evelyn

Chapter 8 - Melatonin Munchies

Chapter Song: Vulnerable by Selena Gomez

                                           Evelyn
That was the best date of my life. I don't think any date will ever top that; It was perfect.

While we were running from the sprinklers, which honestly was insanely comical, I took one of the irises from the cup.

Now I've set it on my desk and I can't help but feel like it might be my new favorite flower. And maybe, just beyond that, maybe I have a new favorite person. I know it's early, but we've known each other for two months and when I'm with him I just...feel.

I feel joy, comfort, and safety. It's refreshing and, if I'm being completely honest, it's new.

If Wasabi possessed the ability to speak, I'm sure we'd have a long conversation about this. But he doesn't, so I guess my only consultant will be myself. A therapist would be nice, but I don't see myself addressing any deep problems with a one, I'd probably just talk about the people I don't like. I can do that with Wasabi though, so it's kind of like he's my therapist. That's not depressing at all.

Shit, it's cold in my apartment.

I've been told since I was a child that the best cure for being sick is a good night's sleep and Vitamin C. Following that logic, I think I'll eat a few melatonin gummies for some good sleep and eat an orange for the vitamin C. That should work. In theory.

I'm uneducated on the effects of melatonin overdose, so consuming five gummies may not have been the best idea. I probably should've looked at the back of the box. Oh well. At least I'll die happy.

~~~

"Are you okay?" Michael asked. "You said you needed to vent."

"You'll never guess what happened."

"What happened?"

I told Michael I wanted to meet him for lunch. It's been three days since our date and I've never been happier. Except for an hour ago.

"So," I started. "This guy came in to order a coffee, his name is Brad."

"Sounds like a douche."

"Oh for sure. I gave him his order and he said I made his coffee wrong. Which, for the record, was just black coffee, so there is no way I made it wrong. I've been a barista for two years, I think I know how to brew a pot of coffee. But that's beside the point.

"I asked him if he wanted me to remake the drink completely free of charge and he said 'no, but now you have to live with the fact that you messed up my coffee. I hope you sleep restlessly."

"The fuck?"

"I know! And he just walked out after that. I was dumbfounded."

"I don't have words."

"I have quite a few actually, but I'm making an effort to be a good person, so I won't share them."

Michael chuckled. I love his chuckle. It's not a full laugh, but it's enough to show that he has a soul in there somewhere. And the way his lips quirk up into the smallest of smiles is so adorable. He's so-