As we make our way to the mall, the bad mood I'm in still doesn't lift.
"I know what you need. Cheesecake!" Lara advises.
The more I get to know this girl, the weirder she becomes.
"Cheesecake?"
"Yes. Cheesecake. To sweeten you up."
"I don't need sweetening up."
Lara rolls her eyes.
"Of course you do, just like I'm Australian," Lara sarcastically remarks.
"You wouldn't sound Australian if you tried."
"Let's go have a barbie, mates," Lara fails at an Australian accent.
I burst into laughter and Lara joins me.
"There we go: a smile," Lara approves.
Instantly, I frown.
"Well, at least there was," Lara comments.
Because we've been chatting and joking around, none of us notice that we're now in the mall. One of the restaurants has a sign saying:
'The Cheesecake Factory'
"No cheesecake could beat The Cheesecake Factory, right?" Lara states.
"I don't know. I haven't tasted any cheesecake in America."
Lara fake collapses.
"YOU'VE NEVER TASTED CHEESECAKE FROM THE CHEESECAKE FACTORY?"
"Never."
"OMG! I need to get you in there and taste cheesecake stat," Lara insists, grabbing my hand and sprints into the restaurant, bringing attention to us.
A waitress, who's been entertained by our entrance, walks over to our table.
"Hi. Welcome to The Cheesecake Factory!" she welcomes us, giving us two menus.
I don't know which cheesecake to pick. There's the original, strawberry, chocolate, caramel, pineapple upside down, oreo, cherry, lemon, marshmallows, peanut butter, red velvet, banana, raspberry, vanilla, tiramisu, limes and strawberries.
Lara chuckles at my facial expression.
"You can't pick?"
"Yep."
"If it helps, I clear my mind and the first flavour that comes into my mind is the one I pick."
The same waitress from before approaches us.
"Are you ready?"
"Luna?" Lara prompts.
"Yeah. Let's pick."
"I'll take the Hershey's Chocolate Bar Cheesecake, please," Lara says.
"Great choice. And what about you, miss?" the waitress asks, scribbling down the order.
"I'll have the Tiramisu cheesecake, please."
"Fab. Do you want something to drink?" the waitress questions.
"Yes. I'll have a Coke, please."
"Make that two, please," I add.
"Kk. Your orders will arrive shortly, girls," the waitress tells us before walking away.
Not long after, both of us are tucking into what could be the best cheesecake in the world!
"Do you now see why I shouted in the mall and practically collapsed onto the floor?" Lara smugly explained.
YOU ARE READING
The Immigrant Who Played Basketball
General FictionShe was and Italian Mixed Race Girl, with a black mom. She was looked down on and insulted by the residents of her town, who said she couldn't do anything. But she never listened when it came to playing basketball, the sport that transported her awa...
