Page 55 of Fruit
“No, I’m not.”
Sebastián snorts.
“You’re just so pretty. I just want to draw you.” I attempt to poke at his face with my foot, but he catches it, holding it down.
“Don’t put your cockroach-infested foot on my face.”
“Excuse me! My feet are clean and beautiful, thank you very much. Look at my toenails. That colour is calledMidnight in Paris.”
“Isn’t that a Woody Allen film?”
“Ew, is it?”
“Yeah.”
“Ew. No it isn’t.”
“It is.”
“Shut up. Give me your phone, I’m googling it.”
Sebastián, the trusting idiot, hands me his phone. It isn’t even password protected.
“I could just go through your whole phone and you wouldn’t even know,” I tease. Sebastián shrugs. “I could look through yourpictures.” I waggle my eyebrows at him.
“I don’t know what that face is about.”
“I could find all your sexy pictures.”
“Sexy pictures? Ofwhat?”
“Nude boobies. Pics of you all sweaty after working out.”
“I definitely don’t take pictures of myself after I work out.”
“And why not?”
“Why would I?”
“Hell-o! You could send them to me.”
“And you would do what, exactly, with these pictures?”
“Jerk off to them.”
“Jesus Christ,” he says, and to my delight, he blushes slightly.
“Oh my God,” I say, trying to poke him in the face with my toe again. He catches the offending foot and forces it down.
“Keep your Woody Allen foot away from me.”
“Ew! That’s even worse than having a cockroach foot.”
Sebastián laughs as I busy myself with Google.
“Okay…it is the name of one of his shitty films, but my nail polish has nothing to do with him so…there.”
I try to wiggle my foot out of his grasp, and he starts tickling me.
