Page 2 of Marcello DeLuca

“Come on girls.” Mom ushered us out of the car and toward the market.

My father stayed behind, appearing to be engrossed in an intense phone call as he leaned against the hood of the car, gripping the yellow envelope.

As my mother, sister and I wandered through the huge market, a gush of excitement hit me when I spotted a familiar face. I felt like I would bubble over with joy when I confirmed that face belonged to Lucy, my best friend I hadn’t seen since we moved away from Destin.

“Mom, can I go say hi to Lucy?” I asked eagerly.

She glanced at her phone’s clock. “Alright but be quick. We don’t have much time. Your father is acting antsy today, and we don’t want to frustrate him if we can avoid it.”

Giddy beyond belief, I replied, “I’ll be quick. Thanks!” I ran over to Lucy, feeling a rush of joy at seeing her. We hugged and immediately started catching up. “It’s been too long, friend. I missed you.

“I miss you too, Safie. I’m so glad to see you.”

“How are you enjoying the Freshman life?” I asked, eager to know how she and the rest of our crew in Destin were doing.

“As far as the freshman life...it’s just wonderful. You know, drama, boyfriend stealing, jealousy, all the things that make high school delightful.” She rolled her eyes heavenward, letting me know that she wasn’t enjoying her first year at Destin High.

I chuckled. “I hate that I’m not there with you, but at least, we get to lay our eyes on some mature boys now.”

“Ew, and most of them are just as gross as the boys our age,” Lucy said, pretending to stick her finger down her throat to gag.

I bubbled over with laughter, trying to catch my breath. “I hate to admit it, but you’re so right! It’s like they’ve all taken a class on how to be walking disasters,” I chuckled. “Speaking of disasters, did I ever tell you about the time I was asked out on a date by a guy wearing Crocs? And I don’t mean just any Crocs, but those hideous ones with the little charm things sticking out of every hole. He looked like a walking craft project gone wrong!”

Lucy’s eyes widened in horror and amusement. “No way! Please tell me you said no to the date.”

“Oh, I did,” I replied, laughing. “I thought, okay, maybe he’s got a good personality to make up for it. But then, as we stood there talking, he started comparing the different types of Crocs he owned and explaining which ones were best for different occasions. Like, he had Crocs for hiking, Crocs for swimming, and—get this—Crocs for formal events. I didn’t even know Crocs came in 'formal'!”

Lucy burst out laughing, clutching her sides. “He told you all of this before the date? Please tell me you ran after that, honey.”

“I was tempted,” I grinned, “but I actually stuck it out ‘til the bell rang. It was too bizarre to walk away from. He even offered to buy me a matching pair, so we could be ‘Crocs twins’ if I allowed him to take me on a date. I mean, who could say no to that kind of charm?”

She howled with laughter, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “That’s the best worst asking out story I’ve ever heard! What did you tell him to get out of it?”

“Well, I had to think quickly because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings,” I grinned, “so I told him I had a rare condition called ‘Croc-ophobia’—a debilitating fear of rubbery footwear with holes in it. I think I used words like ‘tragic’ and ‘incurable’ to really sell it.”

She burst out laughing, clutching her sides. “Did he buy it?”

“Sort of,” I laughed. “He looked really confused for a moment and then said, ‘Oh, I guess we can skip the matching Crocs on our second date.’ I almost felt bad for the poor guy, but I had to stick to my story. He did seem genuinely relieved when I told him it wasn’t contagious.”

Lucy giggled uncontrollably, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “That’s brilliant! And to think, I thought my date who lost track of time because he was ‘in a deep meditation’ was bad.”

I raised an eyebrow, still giggling. “Meditation, huh? That’s a new one. Did he lose track of time or was he just exploring the inner workings of his couch cushions? I bet he was actually in a deep trance watching Netflix and lost all sense of reality.”

Lucy laughed again, shaking her head. “Oh, it gets better. He tried to convince me that he was ‘aligning his chakras’ and didn’t notice the time passing. I’m pretty sure his chakras were just stuck on the latest episode of ‘Epic Gamer Fails.’”

I shook my head, still laughing. “You’ve got to give him points for creativity, though. Maybe next time he can align his chakras with a watch. We should start carrying little trophies for these guys. ‘Congratulations, you’ve mastered the art of being fashionably late, or a fashion disaster, or spiritually absent!’”

Lucy snorted, almost doubling over with laughter. “I’d definitely keep one in my purse for emergencies. ‘Best Improvised Excuse’ goes to the guy who got lost in his own aura. Well done, sir!”

We both burst into another fit of laughter, enjoying the absurdity of it all and the joy of turning our dating mishaps into comedy gold.

I nodded, still giggling. “Trust me, Lucy, we have to set the bar higher. Something has to give to where guys wearing anything less than normal footwear know not to approach. We deserve better than walking fashion disasters! And if they lose track of time, they should be sure to lose our numbers too.”

Grinning, she wiped away a tear. “Exactly! And the next guy who shows up in Crocs or pretends he was ‘meditating’ instead of being on time? Automatic disqualification. We should have a checklist or something.”

I raised my hand, giving her a mock serious look. “Agreed. Step one: No Crocs unless they're gardening. Step two: No losing track of time unless they're rescuing puppies or stopping a meteor from hitting the Earth.”

Lucy laughed and offered her hand for a high five. “Deal! And maybe step three: If you can't dress yourself, at least hire a stylist. We’re not asking for a runway model, just... normal human clothes!”

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