I absolutely, positively hate peanut butter. My entire soul sometimes conspires on how to rid the world of the foul, mashed substance. Extra chunky? Creamy? Mixed with jelly? You name it, I despise it. Something about the texture is unnatural. I heard somewhere that when we die, everyone experiences hell differently. Some burn, some relive moments, some wallow in regret. I think I may be the only one sitting there completely tortured because the peanut butter is sticking to the roof of my mouth. That's why Shay cleverly renamed it, "Satan's Spread."
When she gets home she has an enormous grin on her face.
"You'll never guess what TJ said." She bursts. Shay gets in moods, (usually after a night at TJ's) where she's virtually untouchable. Nothing can bring her down. Like he's given her this incredible light that she wants to hold onto for all she's worth. Which he has, I guess. I've never seen anyone as happy as Shay is with TJ. They'd get married if it wasn't for me.
"What?" I sigh, craning my neck away from the TV. I am on hour four of a New Girl marathon and not looking to stop in the near future. The only time I've moved has been to get the cup of blueberries I'm snacking on.
She laughs so hard that she can barely start the story. She is a snort-laugher. Usually it's wildly endearing to me, but I didn't close my eyes last night. Today I'm tired and grumpy.
"We were eating take out from that pizza place beneath his apartment, right?" She giggles.
Giggles? Shay actually giggled? Sometimes I consider myself more adult than her. Then I remember she pays the bills while I am on hour four of a TV binge.
"And he goes, 'Oh, Smartie! I just remember something you've gotta try!' And he goes into the cabinet..." At this point she's completely lost it with insane laughter. I do crack a small grin at her. Mostly so she doesn't feel awkward that I'm not as into her story as she is.
"And he grabs a jar of Satan's Spread and slathers it all over my pizza. Literally the whole jar is split between our two slices. Then he grabs another piece and puts it on top and goes, 'it's a sandwich. Try it. You're going to love it.' All the while, I'm staring at him like he's lost his mind, which he clearly has, and he's just enjoying his sandwich. Shilo I literally cried because I laughed so hard." She gasps. I cover my mouth. No way. TJ the perfect guy likes Satans Spread on his pizza? What a joke.
"I don't believe it." I huff, turning back to New Girl. She flops down next to me and snatches a handful of blueberries.
"Hey. Those are mine." I swat her hand away. She shoves them in her mouth.
"You'd better believe it, babe. But hey, less about me, more about you. What you watching?" She chews.
I go on to explain the ridiculous amount of emotional investment I've developed in Nick and Jess' relationship over the past two days. I explain how sexy their first kiss was, even zooming back to the exact scene. Kisses that intense just can't be talked about. She's got to see it for herself. After we watch the scene a few times she bites her lip.
"I wish real life was that steamy." She jokes.
"Right? Now shoo. I'm trying to relax here. Now I've lost my place in the last episode. Thanks a lot." I push her shoulder gently.
She grimaces. I can tell she's about to deliver bad news because her flawless brows crease together, forming a little stress-line in the center of her forehead.
"Yikes. I might have to kick you out. I've got an article to write for work. You can borrow my card and go shopping if you want." She softens her tone slightly. "You could call Chanelle. I'm sure she would go with you."
Immediately I shake my head. I went to that ridiculous art display two nights ago. I'm still recuperating from the whole ordeal. I honestly shouldn't be out in public for another week at least.
"Naw. I'll go down to the lounge and keep up my marathon on my laptop." I protest. Shay lets out a deafening sigh.
"Hey, you're going to hate me... But, Mom called and she really needs to talk to you. She said it's an emergency." She frowns. Mom is a sensitive subject for both of us. She's like a boiling, hot pot of water on the stove that we both pretend to ignore. Every once in a while we have to acknowledge her existence, only when she blows up and causes a scene.
"It's always an emergency with Mom." I growl as I gather up my headphones.
YOU ARE READING
Museums
Teen Fiction"we are all museums of fear" -charles bukowski Shilo has always faded. Like a small detail in a large painting, she considers herself insignificant in the universe. Noah is full of confidence. He's always been on exhibit for the world to see. When...
