[Ambrosia Bellemore]
"Extra shirts?"
"Check."
"Earmuffs?"
"Check."
"Matchsticks?"
"Matchsticks?"
"Yeah, if you ever get angry and want to burn someone alive."
"Uh, yeah. That's likely."
"Pretzels?"
"Aha! Three bags."
"Those bags of space food I got you?"
"Uh, I'll pass."
"But there's mint chocolate chip ice cream flavour! And spaghetti! And mac and cheese!"
"My stomach doesn't bode well to space food, Frey."
"Yep, I always knew you weren't cut out for astronomy."
"Thanks, Freida."
"Your welcome."
"I think I'm all set. Whaddya want for dinner? Chinese sounds good?"
"Sounds breathtaking."
Two bowls of soup, a cup of noodles and another plate of orange chicken later, we finally give up.
"I can't believe you're going to Venice." Freida sighs, patting her full stomach.
"Same." I sigh, popping open the button of my jeans.
"With your boss." She says with a snigger. A few days ago, I'd have sighed in despair. But now, not so much.
"Yeah," I say hesitantly. Freida looks up when she notices my change of tone.
"What's wrong?"
"Wrong? Pfft. I'm great." I wave a hand dismissively, laughing airily.
"Such a bad liar," She mutters under her breath, eying me suspiciously.
"It's nothing you want to care about, Freida." I assure her.
"Come on, what is it? I know you want to talk about it." She prods.
"Freida," I begin.
"Yeah?"
"What would you say if I told you that I...um, kissed my boss?"
"You kissed your boss?" She mumbles back, her eyes glazed over.
"Yeah. Well practically, he kissed me first."
"And you kissed him back?" She asks, her face slowly returning back to normal.
"Well, yeah." I mumble, staring at my lap.
"Do you like him?" She asks all of a sudden, making me look up at her.
"Well I, um, I don't know. But the past few days have been a little...confusing." I admit.
"When did it happen? After your date?"
"That wasn't a date," I argue.
"If you say so," She snickers lightly. I glare at her.
"I don't know how that's a big deal. I mean, sure, things might get awkward at work. But if you like him, why should you worry about that at all?" She reasons.
"He's my boss, Freida. A few weeks ago, we couldn't even look at each other without glaring. How can we ever like each other?" I argue, almost ripping my hair off of my head.
YOU ARE READING
I Like Your Shoes | ✓
Humor"Sometimes, we are so smitten with happy endings, that we believe we'll end up with one too." Ambrosia Bellemore never believed in happy endings, even though the books she read said otherwise. The closest she ever came to magic was when she found th...
