Sugar Honey Iced Tea

12

I take the dirt path to the diner through the woods. It's not far from my house, as is everything in Blackwater.
     I'm really not looking forward to this. It's only been three days since I even knew Mackenzie was back in town, and now she's tempting me with a stupid letter I wrote to her a few weeks after 'you know what'. I hadn't even thought about it since the moment I sent it; was hoping she would send something back, but she never did. It was nothing more than a petty, stupid crush.

The diner's stuffy and stale on this hot day. I pan it for Mackenzie and eye her sat in one of the booths. My stomach goes all funny and I feel like my head's breaking – that might be because I'm still in bits after last night, though. Taking a deep breath, I waddle to the booth and slide in the seat across from her, give her a begrudging scowl. How did I go from feeling awkward and embarrassed around her to feeling tricky with her, so quickly?
She's got her chestnut hair down and straightened, a breezy Green Day shirt on, and she's ogling the menu. She looks up when she sees me. "Did you know they still do banana nut waffles here?" She asks with thrill.
"Yep. I'm not the one who moved." I feel so mad at her for some reason. Just the way she's using what happened two years ago as a way to torment me. Or at least, I think that's what she's doing. I hope this isn't just her way of being playful.
"You don't need to be pissed at me, Julia."
"Jules."
"Fine. Jules," she bites on her bottom lip. "Do you wanna see it, then?"
I mutter, "the letter?"
She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out the letter I wrote to her when I was fourteen. Everything comes flooding back to me. She places it on the table.

I read it, over and over and over again until my eyes feel like they're bleeding. Mackenzie doesn't say a word.
"Wow. I-I can't believe you kept it. After all this time." I'm shocked. It feels like only yesterday I was crouched at my desk, door shut, hoping nobody would come in and catch me writing to a girl. A girl who probably didn't care at all. I feel so stupid.
     "Of course I kept it. It was the nicest letter I ever got." Stop trying to humour me.
     It's crunched in my hand. "It was?"
     "Duh. And if you were wondering, I did never stop thinking about it." She smiles like a loveable villain. This feels so bittersweet.
     "Really?"
"Stop being unsure. It was me who kissed you, remember? How could I forget my first kiss like it was nothing?"
First kiss? First kiss?!
"Um, what?" I imagine I look like an idiot right now. I lower my voice as I say this, "Uh—I'm sorry—I was your first kiss? Me?"
     Mackenzie nods.
     "Well, it certainly didn't seem it." I gawk.
     "People tell me I'm good." She smirks.
     I'm about to gasp when the waitress skips over to our table. "Can I get you girls anything?" She offers with a smile.
     "Uh, I'm really not hungry—"
     "We'll take two strawberry shakes and some buttermilk biscuits to share, please." Mackenzie grins like a child, handing the waitress the menu.
     "Coming right up." The waitress replies, jotting away.
     I groan. Mackenzie's got fire in her eyes, leaning back on the headboard of the booth, crossing her arms cheekily. She's kind of unbearable. I look down at the letter.
"What do you want me to do with this?" I ask. Part of me wishes she'll want it back.
"Do what you want with it. I've moved on." She pauses. "...have you, though?"
What a funny question. Of course I haven't. "Of course I have. Don't flatter yourself."
"Then take the letter. Go on."
I hesitate. Come on, just keep it, for my sake.
"Just take it."
I put the letter in my pocket, heartbroken. Did it really mean that little to her that she didn't even want to keep the letter?

A while later, the waitress comes back with our shakes and plate of biscuits. Mackenzie takes a sip of her shake and scoffs down a biscuit. "God, I've missed this place."
"How was Scotland?" I take a sip of my strawberry shake.
"Pretty boring. The Scots hate the English—well, most of them—oh, and they have these gross bugs called midges."
I wonder about something. "You're, um, girlfriend. Did you meet her in Scotland?" I take another sip of strawberry goodness.
Mackenzie does the same. "Oh, Jess? Yeah, we met in college."
"Oh. Right."
"What about you?" She asks. "Have you managed to catch yourself a keeper?"
"I...have a boyfriend. Beau."
"Boyfriend?"
"Yes. Boyfriend."
"Lucky you."
Yes, lucky me.