“It’s also because he’s easy,” Shadow adds.
I press my lips together and nod, not sure what to say to that.
I’m probably just being filthy minded.
He totally meant it in an innocent way.
I pick up my water and crack open the bottle.
A few sips later, and I’m looking at my sad little sandwich wishing I’d been more adventurous.
The smell of the fast food is enticing now that it’s here. I steal glances at the wrapped burger in front of Pete, and I can’t help thinking about the last time I had one.
It was more than a year ago, at a diner that only had non-diet options while I was on a weekend break visiting my sisters. It was kinda burnt, honestly, and the relish was plain old ketchup, but it was still one of the tastiest things I’d eaten in a while.
These burgers look way better, and here I am stuck with a plain old chicken salad sandwich.
It’s the kind of choice I make most days. Healthy option, low fat, and typically low on flavor.
I basically only need to inhale the smell of something delicious to pack on the pounds.
I need that burger like I need a hole in the head.
Taking another swig of my water, I try to ignore the tasty smells while I psych myself up to eat my boring sandwich. I don’t put the bottle down until it’s half empty.
I find Shadow holding a box out to me when I set it down.
“Do you like frickles?”
“I have no idea,” I admit.
“They’re kind of an acquired taste,” Pete warns me.
“I like non-fried pickles, so …” I shrug, and then I take one.
It’s got to be less fattening than a whole burger.
I pop it in my mouth, and holy wow.
Why does frying make everything taste so much better?
“Mmm,” I moan.
Shadow smiles. “I knew you’d like them.”
Pete grabs a couple, and Shadow frowns at him.
“Hey, I didn’t ask if you wanted any.”
Pete laughs. “You got them for me.”
“Well, yeah.” Shadow rolls his eyes. “But leave some for the rest of us, greedy.”
“Say that again louder, Mr. Second Lunch of the Day.”
Shadow snorts. He shakes the box at me.
“Take more. Don’t let Pete eat them all.”