Page 5 of Beautifully Devoted

“You could’ve just said that to begin with.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I turn his words on him, which he hates, but always makes me laugh. Jagger responds by kicking his foot up and to his left as we walk side-by-side down the aisle, tapping me on the ass. My yelp causes a woman carrying a toddler on her arm to shoot us a withering look.

Yes, we are giant children.

“Here it is.” Jagger stops abruptly and reaches for a box on the shelf. “Told you they’d have it.”

“You got lucky.”

“And it’s on sale.” Jagger beams as he holds the box up for my inspection.

Of course it is.

My best friend has the sort of luck that makes you question the universe. Not that he doesn’t deserve it after his rough start in life, and let’s face it, it’s not like he doesn’t work for everything he has. But to say things tend to fall into place for him with uncanny precision is an understatement.

He needs an eighty-nine on a test, he’ll get a ninety. He applies for a coveted summer job, the company has a rare opening. He wants an NIL deal from a nutrition company, the juicer he likes is on sale. He once even needed cash to repair his car, and the scratcher he bought on a whim ends up being worth a few hundred bucks.

Some people resent it when a guy has that kind of good fortune, but to me it’s just pure Jagger. And since he doesn’t take that shit for granted, I’m happy to see things fall in place for him.

Back at the house, Jagger spreads his loot on the counter, surveying his options and Googling what they do. “It says this helps with heart disease and cancers.” He breaks off a piece of the kale and brings it to his nose, which wrinkles slightly as he sniffs it. Tossing it into his mouth with an indifferent shrug, he starts chomping on it, face morphing from curious to disgusted in about point five seconds flat. “That shit’s gonna need to go with something strong enough to mask the flavor. Damn. What’s the strongest fruit we got?”

“Pineapple is pretty potent.”

Jagger scrunches his nose. “Are you for real or are you just trying to confuse me with all those ‘P’ words?”

“I’m serious.”

“Okay then, open that can and dump it in the juicer.”

I reach for the can, which fortunately has a tab since I’m fairly certain we don’t have a can opener. “Does it count if it comes out of a can? I thought the whole point of juicing was to have fresh stuff.”

“This is a practice run, so for now, using a can is acceptable. Besides, I don’t know how the fuck to cut an actual pineapple.” Jagger adds several leaves of Kale to the mix. “What other green stuff should we use?”

“If your face is any indication, the kale is plenty.”

Jagger shrugs and turns the juicer on, instantly liquifying the contents into a murky green slush that resembles what comes out the other end after you’ve eaten something foul.

“I’m not touching that,” I say.

“Don’t be scared of the color.”

“I’m scared of all of it. The color, the taste, all of it.”

Jagger dips a spoon into the canister and brings the contents to his mouth, making just as awful a face as he did when he tried the kale by itself. Rather than admit defeat, he shakes his head, clears his throat and declares, “It needs more substance. Protein powder maybe?”

“We only have chocolate flavored powder, which will do nothing for the color of that crap let alone the taste. Why not try a banana?”

“Did you look that up? If I’m gonna do this, it needs to be my own recipe.”

I hold my hands up to show there’s no phone in them. “Bananas just seem more substantial than berries.”

He shrugs half heartedly, peels one and dumps it in whole before mixing everything up again and repeating his taste test. “Better,” he coughs. “But it still needs to be thicker. And we definitely need protein.”

“What about milk?”

Jagger checks the fridge. “We don’t have any. Yogurt?”

“Do we have any of that?”

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