Sunflowers and Lillies

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When I toss a couple of bags of gummies into the cart, Nick immediately takes them out and shelves them again.

We have been doing this for twenty minutes.

I place something I want in the cart, Nick takes it out and puts it back. My cart is still empty.

I narrow my eyes at him and bundle up some more gummies in my hand before dumping them into the cart. When he goes to grab them out, I swat his hands away. "Stop that," I hiss. "Let me buy the damn food I want."

"This isn't food," he glares. "It's all junk! Junk and sugar and more junk."

"Does it look like I care?" I wrench the cart free from his grip and stomp down the aisle.

He follows after me, frustrated. "I am doing this because I don't want you to die at the ripe age of forty from cardiovascular disease angry at yourself for eating sugar into heart failure."

"New boy," I stop at the chips aisle, throwing in a couple of family-sized Doritos. "I am not going to die at forty because I ate one too many skittles."

"You don't know that!"

I roll my eyes, "why are you acting like such an overbearing mother? I see you pull out a packet of chips every day at lunch."

"Yes," he stresses. "A packet a small, normal, regular-sized, packet. Not six whole ass family-sized ones!"

I place a hand on my hip, "are you food-shaming me right now?"

"I am not," he crosses his arms. "I just care too much about you to let you die young from sugar overdose."

"It's not gonna happen."

"It happens to 184,000 people yearly."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, "why do you even know so much about this crap?"

His ears flush scarlet and he rakes a hand through his hair, "it's a paranoia thing. My mom gave it to me. And don't you dare put that in!"

The hand that's pulling the frozen pizza out of the freezer pauses. I sigh and put it back in, closing the glass door behind me. "Feilds," I start gently, my hands in a pleading sign. "What the fuck do you want me to eat, then?"

He holds up a zucchini.

"Oh, for the love of God," I groan and rub my face. "Get out. Just get out and let me shop in peace or I swear I will call customer service and tell them you've been harassing me."

"I have not been harassing you."

"Yes, you have!"

He stomps over and pulls out the frozen pizza before throwing it into the cart. "Fine. Go die from cardiovascular diesese."

I pick up the pizza and shelf it back in the freezer, "well, now I don't want it."

"Then what do you want?"

"For you to shut the fuck up and let me shop!"

"Fine."

"Fine! And you touch anything in the cart I'll skewer your hand."

I grab the handle of the cart and start to push, my walk a brisk pace. Ten minutes later, we're outside piling my bags into his car, and I made sure to get extra unhealthy food just to piss of Nick.

When he opens the trunk, I notice the few grocery bags in the corner of the back and frown. "Were you heading back from the grocery store when you saw me?"

He looks up, "what—oh yeah, my mom wanted me to pick up some stuff for dinner."

I hum in response and continue loading with Nick until he goes to put back the cart and I hop into the passenger seat. He follows me thirty seconds later, arguing and it looks like failing miserably, with someone as he starts the car, his phone tucked between his shoulder and ear.