When Bluebirds Fly | ✔

Part One : Chapter Four

I watched Allison scrutinize the menu for the third time, her perfectly manicured index finger inching towards the pasta salad that she always ordered. Always. I couldn't fathom why she felt the need to inspect the menu over and over again every week as if she would summon the courage to deflect from the regular option.

The waiter came over for the third time, his polite smile faltering with each second Allison took to decide whether she wished to eliminate any ingredients as a conscious effort to reduce her weight.

As always, she didn't and her forest green eyes landed on me. "I'll have one pasta salad, what would you have Mariana?"

"Orange juice with no ice," I replied flatly, knowing well that my couple of dollars was going to waste for a basic homemade drink served in a fancy glass which was the cheapest thing in the entire menu.

The waiter noted down our respective orders and left.

"You should try this cocktail . . . It's yum," Allison pointed at the indecipherable cursive writing. My eyes instantly darted towards the dollar signs, it was triple the price of the lemonade. If only I had made her aware of my poor economic condition, but then again, we have been hanging out in this vegan café since past two years and I didn't want to break this tradition. However stupid it was.

"Next time," I lied and she propped her round chin in the palm of her left hand.

We stared at each other, having nothing to talk.

"So . . . " She twirled her shiny blonde lock of hair. "What's new with you?"

"Thanks to your boyfriend, I'm working."

"That's nice!" she exclaimed, eager that we found a topic to chat about. This was the problem when both of us were dull introverts. Nothing exciting seemed to happen. "Any cute customer? Or should I say any Bailey with a big nut?"

She tried her best to fight back her smug smile, proud of cracking a dirty joke.

I laughed at her tomfoolery and she blushed, her baby face reddening. She looked like a fluffy ball of cotton candy in her taffy pink top with frilly sleeves, strawberry lip gloss and denim shorts. I was relieved that she found Tony who was equally naive like her because any other boy would take advantage of her and she wouldn't even realize.

"The only customers that are pouring in are idiots asking for a turkey leg," I said humorously and studying her eager eyes, I elaborated on the story, not once mentioning a more stirring subject- Isaac Connor.

She giggled, a secretive smile spreading across her chubby cheeks.

"You know . . . I bought this new bra," she whispered as if the people four tables away were interested in teenage girls' frivolous gossips.

I teased, adding my effort in our friendship, "Lucky Tony."

"I know right!" she squealed now and few heads four tables away turned to us. Her voice lowered again, her fingers surreptitiously showing the thin pink strap of her bra. "All lace and see through."

I wanted to get up from my chair and mock applaud her, but I controlled my impulse.

I could see why a soon-to-be adult virgin would get thrilled for having finally dared to buy scandalous undergarments, Allison and I were quite alike in such matters. "I'm jealous Ally."

"You can't be jealous of me. You're prettier than me or anyone else."

Before I could correct her that I was definitely not prettier than anyone else and further my contribution to our friendship by complimenting her beauty, the waiter arrived with a bowl of salad (how was pasta salad a salad? Allison and I clearly deferred in opinions in spite of my constant bickering about how it was NOT a salad) and my diluted juice.