Page 18 of Petite Fleur

I've lived on campus for two years now and I've grown used to living broke.

Only this year and next to go before I graduate and can get a good job, one that allows me to eat more than popcorn when I miss dinner at the dining hall.

I make so many laps around this store that I've convinced myself that security is watching me in fear that I'll steal something, but I can't stop staring at the apple cider.

It's my favorite thing about fall!

I remember my grandma taking me to the pumpkin patch every year growing up. We'd pick out a pumpkin, go on a hayride, and then sit outside and sip our apple cider while my grandma ate a shameful amount of donuts.

Well, she thought it was shameful. I always told her to eat more to make up for the fact that they never had gluten-free donuts and to eat at least one for me.

I miss those times. Everything was simple back then, I never had to stand in front of a display of apple cider and wish I had a few more dollars or debate what in my cart I could put back to afford a gallon.

I know it's stupid to choose a seasonal drink over food, but like I said, I enjoy the little things.

“Might I suggest the cabbage, nobody needs four heads of cabbage, do they?" I hear, making me whip my head around and make eye contact with a stunningly gorgeous man standing in front of me.

Wait, I recognize him. It's the man from the cafe a couple of weeks ago.

I didn't think I'd ever see him again. Houston is too big to run into the same stranger twice.

Wait, he was talking to me. Shoot, say something.

Anything.

“It's on sale for a dollar! I can't not buy four heads of cabbage." I reply with a nervous laugh.

Honestly, I can't.

Cabbage is so cheap right now, and it will feed me several times.

I've kind of become an expert on surviving on nothing, and cabbage has endless possibilities!

This man seems to think about my reply for a minute, maybe debating if he's going to argue with me. I don't know, but he looks like his entire wardrobe costs more than what I make in a month.

His shoes probably cost more than everything in my cart, honestly.

"Fair enough. How about this? They're buying one, get one free. What if I were to buy two gallons of apple cider?" He asks me.

I shrug, adjusting my stance slightly under what feels like this man's scrutinizing gaze.

"I'd say you'd be a lucky man. Don't drink it all at once; that's a little too much fiber." I reply.

Wow, Maeve, really?

Insinuate that this guy is going to crap his pants by drinking too much apple cider.

I want to crawl into a hole and die if it avoids how awkward I just made this conversation.

"You've got me there. Do you think you could take the other gallon? Save me from myself?" He asks with a charming laugh that shows off his perfect smile.

I knew it, he really does look like a cover model.

As sweet as his offer is, I don't take charity.

I might be broke, and I know I'm pathetic, but I don't take charity.

I grew up being taught that it's shameful even to accept help; otherwise, I'm sure I could have gotten assistance by now. At least I would be able to feed myself properly, but my mother ruined the image of asking for help.

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