The Cupcake Theory

26) Touch My Food. Meet Your Death

26) Touch My Food. Meet Your Death

How did I end up at this crossroad, this decision is too hard to make. How can I choose between two things that I love so dearly?

I love pizza like my unborn child but nuggets will always have a special chicken shaped place in my heart.

"I guess I'll just have to buy both," I say to myself as I open the freezer doors when I realise my next dilemma. "Great now I need to work out which topping I want."
Scanning the different pizzas is the only thing on my mind as I don't want to regret my decision as soon as I leave the store.
This may be a problem as I don't see the person come from behind, ready attack me.

Okay, maybe 'attack' is over exaggerating it a little bit. But if someone taps you on the shoulder when you're listening to music by yourself in an empty supermarket, you have a very good reason to freak out.

See, when I freak out I do one of three things:

1) Curl up in fetal position and hope that the problem will go away.

2) Hit/ kick whatever's freaking me out then make a run for it.

3) Confront the fear and sort it out rationally (there may always be a very slimly minuscule unlikely chance that one day that this might happen.)

Today is not one of them days.

Today I got for 'hit and run for your life'.

I don't think this plan through very well as I find out that trying to run with an arm full of food is harder than you would think. I lose a packet of gummy bears on the way but there will always be casualties in these kinds of situations.

I hear a loud groan behind me but I ignore it and keep shuffling up the aisle that seems to be going on forever.

"Mackenzieeehhh!" I pause at the sound of my name being called.

Don't pause you, idiot, It's probably a trap to ensnare you than they'll chop you up into little pieces and feed you to their pet iguana!

I peer over my shoulder to find Joel rolling on the ground helplessly.

So that may be my fault but I swear I didn't kick him that hard.

I walk back to him slowly and stop a couple feet away from him.

He stops squirming when I cast a shadow over his head.
He blinks a couple times before I offer him a hand getting up.

We stand almost eye to eye "Mace," he says my name almost sounding hopeful "I'm so sorry."

"Really? That's all you have to say for yourself Joel, if that's even your name. I liked you, you know that? You were the only one of Aaron's friends that I didn't want to sucker punch in the nose for being annoying" I cross my arms waiting for him to give me a great exclamation.

"I'm-" he looks down at his shoes which seem to be more interesting than me at the moment and murmurs something scarcely auditable.

"You're what? Sorry? You don't get to say sorry. You lied to me. You didn't have the decency to tell me what was going on behind my back. You just went along with their little bet because you're 'one of the guys.' "

"I'm not his friend," he mumbles shaking his head. I'm not sure who he's trying to convince more, me or himself.

"What?"

"I said I'm not friends with Aaron. I'm not actually friends with any of their little group excluding my brother, I tolerate him. I just hang around the guys because it's always been hard for me to make friends, so I've just stuck with my brother's crowd as it's easier than putting myself out there and getting rejected."