Page 68 of Resolute

When the woman looks at me, her eyes grow wide. “Her fiancé. Nice to meet you.”

Camila’s eyes grow wide too, and I have to bite my cheek to stop the grin that wants to form on my face.

“Oh wow,amiga. You hit the jackpot,” the woman says with a wink.

“Actually, I did,” I say as I wrap an arm around Camila’s shoulders.

She immediately melts into me, and I feel like a king. I’m her anchor.

The girl makes swoony eyes, and once she catches on, she asks, “What are you going to want? The usual?”

Camila nods with a smile.

“What about you?” She looks at me, and my eyes immediately go to their menu. There are rows and rows of possibilities.

“Basically, you have a plain corn arepa and you can add any toppings you’d like,” Camila adds, and things start making sense in my brain.

“Oh, like a tortilla?” I say.

Camilla moves away from me. “Take that blasphemy back,” she gasps in mock horror.

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me—until I notice the shocked look on her face, like I’ve committed an unforgivable sin.

Pressing my lips together, I rock back on my heels, trying to regain some composure.

I make a mental note not to compare Colombian with Mexican food ever again.

“What would you recommend?” I ask Camila, and her eyes shine with excitement.

“Since it’ll be your first one, I say we start with something nice and simple. Can I order for you?”

I nod with a smile as I bring her close back to me.

“Para él, una arepa con carne mechada.”

I frown at her request. “Carne mechada?”

Camila looks up and says, “Yes, it’s shredded beef with spices and tomatoes and onions. It’s simple but quite savory.”

Oh, themechadawe have in Chile is simply shredded beef, no condiments. I can’t wait to try this one.

After I pay, the woman goes to fulfill our order while Camila and I wait in comfortable silence. Once we have our arepas in hand, we say goodbye and continue walking around the market.

“I need you to be honest. Do you like it?” Camila asks as she bites her bottom lip.

I take a bite of the arepa, and although it doesn’t really taste like anything, the meat is soft and melts in my mouth. The explosion of flavors as savory as she said and go really well together.

“This is delicious. Although the arepa doesn’t really taste like anything—kind of like a tortilla.”

Her eyes go wide, and she smacks my chest with her free hand. I can’t help but laugh at her outrage.

“Both tortillas and arepas are made of corn, I’ll give you that. But they are different,” she huffs, and it takes everything in me not to laugh again.

We continue walking, enjoying each other’s company as we eat.

“How come your arepa is different than mine?” I ask.

“Mine is made with cheese. And as a topping, I have condensed milk,” she says after swallowing.

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