i don't really like this chapter or the next one, but whatever, haha. 

chapter seven | granola

“I haven’t received a thank you yet,” Mom said while on our way to the theater.

I blinked. “For what?”

“Haven’t you met Andrew’s boy yet?”

“Who? Owen?”

“Yes,  I believe that’s what his name is.”

“I still don’t understand why I need to thank you.”

“Isn’t he a cutie?”

“Mom!”

“You know, he sort of reminds me of your father when he was younger.”

My mother comparing him to Dad was just creepy. I didn’t want to look at handsomely hot Owen and think Dad. Nor did I want to look at Dad and think Owen. That was beyond creepy.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” I implored with wide eyes.

“Just admit he’s cute and I’ll stop.”

“Fine,” I mumbled, crossing my arms. “I think he’s cute.”

“And…?”

“And what?”

“Thank me for this opportunity!” she shrieked, laughing.

Then, my brain clicked. All of the pieces fell into place. “Were you trying to set me up?” I accused.

“I don’t think ‘set me up’ is the right phrase…”

“Mom!”

I heard her sigh. She began tapping her fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel. “I’m waiting…”

“Tell me why you were trying to set me up!”

I tried to act as angry as possible, but my skills weren’t as polished as my mother’s. In reality, I was sort of glad that I met Owen, not that I knew anything about him. I was a little irked that she thought I needed or wanted her help to get a boyfriend. If I wanted one, I would’ve asked Eunice a long time ago.

“I thought it would be good for you, Flossy. But apparently my matchmaking services are not wanted.”

It was also a little odd that she tried to pair me up with someone. Parents don’t start introducing their kids to others until they’re at least in their mid-twenties. I was only fifteen. “They aren’t!”

“I see. I still want to be thanked.”

I grumbled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey," she chirped, putting the car in park.

We entered the doors. I was bouncing on my toes, excited to see my latest obsession. I recently came to terms with it. It was the first step to recovery--hopefully I wouldn’t make it past step two.

Owen was sitting in the audience when we arrived. He was in the third row, a clipboard in one hand and a sharpened pencil in the other. In his mouth was a half-eaten granola bar, eating it like a horse ate hay. His head was perched on his bent arm, focusing intently at the scene that was unfolding before him. I mustered every ounce of courage that was in me, daring to sit in the row in front of him. At least then he’d notice me.

Fifteen or so minutes later, I felt a hefty thud hit the back of my chair. I jerked up, immediately swiveling my head around to blame the nearest person. Of course, the only suspect was Owen. His expression showed no signs of guilt and was concentrating exclusively on what was happening onstage. As I continued to glower at him, the slightest of smiles gave him away. I rolled my eyes knowingly, letting out a small laugh, and turned back around.

I felt yet another kick. I swung my body back around to glare at him again. Just like he had done before, he pretended like he was innocent. “Stop it!” I whispered sharply, facing the front again.

Owen snickered, booting the back of my seat again. I’m sure there were shoeprints on the back. “Owen,” I growled playfully.

“Yes, Flossy?” he answered guiltlessly.

“You’re such a…”

“Such a what?” Owen dared.

I held back a smile. “You’re such a nincompoop.”

Owen laughed. “A what?”

“A nincompoop,” I restated proudly.

“What are you, six? Don’t you know any better insults?”

“Jerk,” I mumbled.

“Nincompoop was more sophisticated,” Owen said, shaking his head in disapproval. “You’re just entering the modern era now.”

“Leave me alone,” I whined, not meaning it at all. I like him teasing me. Did that make me sadistic?

“If you insist, my dear wench.”

“Did you just call me a witch?”

Owen laughed, the sound resonating off my ears. “Look it up, wench.”

I reached my arm back and attempted to hit his leg. It made just a light tapping sound. Unlike his musical laugh, it did not resonate. The sound barely reached my ears.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Owen taunted.

I blushed involuntarily. “Go away,” I mumbled, doodling on the notebook I should’ve been writing notes in.

It was then that I realized I had never seen Owen in my school before. There was only one school in the entire city of Catalonia, but the population was plentiful. I thought I knew everyone in my grade, but apparently not. I never considered the possibility that he could’ve been an incoming senior, and he seemed too mature (most of the time) to be an underclassman.I didn't mingle much with people outside of my grade. Actually, I didn't really talk to anyone besides Eunice. It's not like I was avoiding social contact, but I wasn't exactly making a conscious effort either.

"I get it. You're not enjoying my company."

No, I am!

"One tip, though," he added. "Research a couple of insulting names on the Internet before speaking to me tomorrow, okay?"

I bit my lip, unknowing a reasonable comeback that didn't involve childishly sticking my tongue out at him. "Whatever."

And that was the first spat we've ever had. I entered it in as "Our First Fight" on my phone's calendar. You know, in case we ever got together. Future me would thank present me for recording this momentous event.

"Oh, it was absolute paradise," Eunice gushed. "I can't tell you what it is because I made a promise, but trust me Flossy, it was better than Disneyland."

"You've never been to Disneyland," I informed her.

"Formalities,” she dismissed. “I like the idea of Disneyland. This room carries the same concept, Flossy. The only difference is I’ve been to one and not the other.”

“Maybe you should visit Disneyland before you can start comparing a room to the place where dreams come true.”

“You should really stop watching those commercials, Flossy. They’re turning your brain into absolute mush.”

I laughed at the irony. When Eunice wasn’t eating or chasing after boys, she was glued to the television. I’m sure she’s seen every commercial aired on television--on the channels she watches at least.   “I’ll keep that in mind, Eunice.”

“Good, good. Anywho, he said I could visit again. I’m just not allowed to bring Alfie along anymore.” Disappointment was seeping through her voice.

“Eunice, you’ve known him for, what, like a couple days?”

“Hypocrite!” she shrieked. “You’re obsessed with Owen.”

“I am.”

“I’m not obsessed with Alfie. You know, he’s not even my type.”

Eunice had a type? “What’s your type?”

“You know, muscular.”

“Caleb wasn’t that strong,” I pointed out.

“He was musical. That made up for his muscles” Eunice said, vaguely remembering one of her many shooting-star relationships. “He was really good on that...that…help me out, Flossy.”

“You never told me what he played.”

“Oh. Well he was a good musician. Phenomenal, actually. I don’t really remember why I ever dumped the poor fella.”

“Something about not feeling it?”

“That could be it. Anyways, Alfie doesn’t have any talents. As far as I know, all he does all day is eat.”

“Sounds perfect for you.”

“Which is why I think me and him will work out. I seriously think that he could be the one, Flossy. We’re so different yet so alike. We’re like those people in the romance movies.”

“I highly doubt it.”

“Why are you always doing that to me?” Eunice demanded, feeling slightly hurt.

“Doing what?” I said, puzzled.

“You never have any faith in me,” she pouted.

“You don’t exactly have the greatest credibility, Eunice.”

“Just trust me, okay?”

I sighed. I hated to do this to her, but it needed to be done. “I can’t trust you on this, Eunice. Anything else, fine. But not love. Especially not love.”

“Flossy, that’s not fair.”

“I just wish you would take my advice when it comes to these things, all right?”

“No, not all right. Don’t tell me how to live my life, Flossy. You’re not doing much better.”

“First of all, I never told you how to live your life. I was just stating a simple fact. I don’t trust you when it comes to relationships, or love, or anything to do with Cupid. Second, excuse me? I’ve been working my butt off trying to learn everything there is to know about teeth and being a dentist since I was seven.”

“Then how come you’re being distracted by Owen? How much have you learned in the past week about being a dentist? Second of all, I really don’t think your lifelong dream is to be a dentist. I think it was forced on you by your parents.”

I felt like the wind had just been knocked out of me. Eunice was saying that my dream wasn’t really mine. How dare she?! Sure, my parents had been an awfully big influence on it, but it’s not like it was by coercion. It was completely by choice, my own choice for that matter. “How can you even say that, Eunice? Do you even know how much being a dentist means to me? I’m enriching the teeth if everyone.”

“No you’re not. You’re enriching the teeth of those who pay to go to your stupid clinic or whatever. Unless you’re planning to go to some third-world country and give them all braces or some crap like that, you’re not helping anybody but yourself.”

I crunched my eyebrows as I gaped at the screen on my phone. “Oh, yeah? What about you?”

“What about me?” she challenged contemptuously.

“How is you finding love going to help the people of the world? That is, if you ever find it.” I knew it was sort of a low blow, but I didn’t have any more artillery left.

“Ouch, Flossy. Ouch. I didn’t even know that you had it in you to be such a despicable person, but I guess I was wrong. At least I admit to that sort of stuff.”

“To what sort of stuff?”

“That I’m wrong. You, on the other hand, are an arrogant son of a--”

“There’s no need for that sort of language here,” I interrupted brusquely. “And second, I’m a girl.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Eunice sang mockingly.

“Are you seriously questioning my gender?”

“What? Too pure to say sex, Flossy?”

“I was just using a synonym.”

“Sure you were.”

“Gender is a synonym for sex.”

“So Miss Goody Two-Shoes can say that forbidden three letter word.”

Did I need to remind her that I wasn’t religious, didn’t care if I was married when (yes, when) I lost my virginity, and that I could swear if I really wanted to. Unlike her, I didn’t believe in using expletives when other words could be used in their place.

“In no way do I think it’s forbidden. It’s a synonym. Get over it.”

“Whatever.”

“You know what, Eunice? I’m done with this conversation.”

“What? Did you run out of ripostes?”

“Ripostes?”

“You know, quips, rejoinders, rebuttals, responses, snappy retorts?”

“Are you just reading off synonyms for comebacks?”

A brief moment of silent passed. “Maybe. But that’s not important.”

“And what is? Fighting with you?”

Eunice let out a roar of frustration. “You just don’t understand, Flossy. You never understand.”

“Goodbye, Eunice.”

“Yes. It is a goodbye, isn’t it?”

Exasperated and infuriated from her snarky comment, I mashed my finger onto the lower hemisphere of my screen to end the call.

---

Alfie didn’t know the extent of the problems girls had until he met Eunice. Fran went easy on him, thankfully. He didn’t know he could remain friends with her if she acted like Eunice on one of her good days. It seemed as if a new problem arose every minute that passed by. Every tick of the clock was another tick on Alfie. He had no choice but to itch it otherwise Eunice would overwhelm him.

Today the main problem centered around her supposedly best friend, Flossy. Just by the way Eunice was describing her gave him the chills. She sounded like an awful and horrendous human being. Honestly, who wanted to go down the dental path when it came to careers? Just the thought gave him the “jeepers creepers” and the “heebie jeebies.” He was shaking in his skin when Eunice went into excruciating detail about the things she had absorbed from listening to Flossy.

Flossy. What kind of name was that anyways? She was named after one of the worst verbs ever. If verbs were people, she would be like Hitler. Except no one would like her, much less follow or worship her. Her parents must hate her, Alfie decided. Why else would they name her Flossy? It was a thin string of wax shoved between teeth with a ‘y’ attached to the end to make it sound not so ridiculous. Newsflash, Flossy’s parents, it still sounds ridiculous.

“She just doesn’t understand me, Alfie,” Eunice exhaled. “I mean, we’ve been friends for as long as I can remember. I know I’m not winning the best friend of the year award anytime soon, but this is a huge piece of my life. She doesn’t understand that this is all I want in life.”

Eunice didn’t dare to mention that she was hoping that Alfie would be able to fill the missing piece--the void--in her life. She wanted to make him love her, not scare him away like the cat she had in the fourth grade.

Alfie found Eunice to be a little desperate, but he didn't care as much as he should've. After all, people had the right tone desperate about whatever the heck they wanted even if Alfie didn't necessarily agree on the subject.

People could say that Alfie was desperate for anything with more than a thousand calories, and Alfie wouldn't disagree. Although, he would defend himself saying that pieces of candy rarely exceeded a thousand calories. He probably would eat the amount of calories equivalent to a thousand calories. In his lifetime (at least in the time he was able to feed himself) he probably consumed more than the daily suggested calorie intake by at least twofold. He didn't have the means, or patience for that matter, to "watch his weight" (not that he needed to, or worry about being healthy. Despite his lanky form, his gluteus maximus was growing at an alarming rate, at least to him it was. From a doctor’s point of view, not that he would ever purposefully obtain it, it was normal for his eating habits. The doctor would recommend that he should start eating healthier and exercise for at least an hour every single day. To which Alfie would respond with a head nod, a fake smile, and an “Will do, sir!” In his mind he would be thinking, “Yeah, right. Ain’t nobody got time for exercise.” He would laugh at his reference to a meme.

Alfie didn’t know how to respond or even attempt to remedy her situation. He never had this problem before. So he just replied with the classic “I’m sorry.” He didn’t feel any sympathy towards her. In a way, she brought this on herself. She stayed friends with this so-called Flossy girl. Alfie thought that she should find some friends that had normal friends and normal dreams. Friends who wanted nothing to do with teeth and dentists. Friends like him, not that he was insinuating giving her his friendship. Besides, it wasn’t that valuable. Like Eunice, he wasn’t winning the best friend of the year award anytime soon.

Eunice glanced at him sadly. He swore he saw tears welling up in her eyes and hoped it was just a figment of his imagination. She shook her head slowly, her eyelids gently fluttering shut. “I don’t know what to do, Alfie. We’ve never had a problem like this before.”

Alfie thought for a moment before giving his reply. “Perhaps it was just the pent up anger and frustration that had been building for so long. It needed to all come out, and instead of dripping out like sap from a tree, it exploded.”

“I guess you’re right,” Eunice agreed warily.

She looked so under the weather that Alfie wanted to promise her that things would work out with that wretched Flossy girl. Despite his hatred of her aspired occupation, he couldn’t help but have a teensy bit of respect for Flossy. She did deal with Eunice on a daily basis. She obviously had a lot of tolerance, especially if Eunice ranted to her like she was ranting to him right now.

Fran said girls were drama queens, especially right after undergoing puberty. Alfie asked Fran if she had went through puberty. She looked offended and responded with, “Excuse me?”

Alfie immediately realized what he said. “I’m so sorry, Fran. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s because you’re so calm and collected.”

Fran smiled. “Thank you, Alfie.”

Problem fixed.

This one, on the other hand, was far from that. The only thing that would help is if one or both of them apologized. Given Eunice’s prideful nature, he assumed, she would not be the first to admit her mistake. Flossy sounded like she was always the one to make the first move. It would be her. He was sure of it.

“Tell me what to do, Alfie,” Eunice implored.

Alfie looked at her doubtfully. “I don’t think that’s the best method to approaching this…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m not exactly Mr. Popular around here, and I’m a guy. We don’t really have much conflict.”

Their greatest conflict had been over who received the last slice of pepperoni pizza. Alfie, of course, got it. It was solved by three games of rock, paper, scissors. Knowing that he had came out victorious made the prize taste even better.

“Then at least tell me what you would do.”

Honestly, Alfie didn’t care for friends much. They were nice, sure, but he could be alone if he really needed to. Companionship wasn't one of his biggest necessities in life. To him, it wasn't even a concern.

"You don't want to hear what I would do, Eunice," Alfie warned. "Trust me."

Alfie's words hit Eunice like a bag of bricks. Trust me. Those two words caused so much tension between her and her best friend. Eunice didn't want to start another argument. "Alfie, I probably won't even follow your advice. Just please. I'm begging you. I'll even get down on my knees and bow down to you like you're some sort of God or entity."

Although that did sound appealing to Alfie, he wasn't as so cruel as to force her into what he thought was humiliation. "You won't like it one bit," Alfie warned. "I guarantee you'll be mad at me."

"I asked for your opinion, and I would never purposefully get mad at you."

Alfie didn't care if people were mad at him, especially Eunice, but he felt compelled to say, "Promise?"

This felt like progress to Eunice for some unexplained and unknown reason, and she couldn't help the smile that was creeping onto her face because it it. It telling Alfie her problems would make them bond, thus causing him to like her more. She considered complaining every day. At this point in their relationship, she would do whatever it took to make their connection stronger.

“I promise.”

Alfie took a deep breath, then exhaled. “I think you should forget about it.”

“What do you mean?”

Alfie shrugged. “I don’t know. By now it seems silly to explain what you live for to her, and her you. So just find new friends.”

“You were right, Alfie.”

Alfie cocked his head to the side, reminding him of Fran. “What?”

Eunice shook her head firmly. “That plan is impossible. Flossy is my best friend. I’ll always be there for her, and I know she’ll always be there for me. That’s what friendship is, Alfie.”

Alfie didn’t know what friendship was. To him, it was companionship that came and went away. Family wasn’t even a stable thing for him. If family didn’t stay, what chance did he have for someone else to?

“I thought you knew what that was. Friendship, that is,” Eunice clarified.

“Why would I?” he mumbled.

“I thought Fran was your friend.”

“She is.”

“Would you do anything for her? Would you drop anything at a moment’s notice to go to her?”

Alfie raised his eyebrow. “Uh…”

“Didn’t think so,” she said dismissively. “That’s what you need Alfie. You need a real friend. Better yet, you need to be a real friend.”

Alfie was confused and rather outraged. Since when did this turn into some sort of therapy session for him? She was the one who was mentally unstable right now, not him. “I don’t need any of that, Eunice.”

She smiled sadly, a common occurrence when it came to “philosophical” Eunice. “Oh, but you do.”

He shook his head. “I don’t,” he insisted.

“Will you please stop arguing with me, Alfie? I know people. All kinds of people; big, small, angry, happy.”

“Yes, Eunice. But you don’t know me. I know me.”

“But soon, Alfie, I will know you more than you know yourself.”