Chapter Seven
Lola
What- what happened? Mom?
You’re okay, baby. You’re in the hospital but you’re okay. Just take it easy.
I– why? What happened?
- Conversation between Lola, age 18 and her mother
“Holy moly, these are incredible.” Skyler moans as she takes another bite of her apple fries.
My heart un-squeezes a little. I put on a good show a lot of the time but my entire coffee shop concept hinges on the whole apple fry thing taking off.
There are plenty of cafés and restaurants in Pine Rock, especially down by the beach front.
If I want to be successful, I need to stand out.
I’ve got a lot riding on fried apple sticks in a cute paper cone.
Skyler licks the sugar and cinnamon off her fingers. “You might actually be a genius.”
I grin and take another sip of my champagne.
We’d dug out my beach towel and spread it across the bed so we could indulge in a makeshift picnic.
The apartment may not be glamorous, but it feels good to know it’s mine.
I’m already imagining all the ways I can do it up.
“What do you think of a soft cream for the walls? With pine flooring?”
Skyler takes in the water-stained wallpaper and scratched floorboards. “That sounds nice.” She looks across the blanket at me. “Can I ask you a question?”
I grab another fry. “If it’s about Roman, no.”
“How come you moved in early?”
I chew on the apple till it’s nothing but mush and wipe my fingers on the edge of the towel. “My big announcement didn’t go so well.” I force a smile.
Skyler’s ocean eyes track over my face, a slight dent appearing between her brows. “You didn’t tell them about college?”
I ignore the stinging in my eyes and shake my head. “I graduated top of my class, Sky. I did a six-year online course in four years, and I am so proud of myself.”
A smile blooms on my friend’s face. “As you should be.”
I pick at the edge of the paper cone I’d made to serve our apple fries. “They got so upset so quickly. I didn’t want to tell them as a way of defending myself in an argument. I want them to be happy. To celebrate.”
The tear falling down my cheek catches me off guard.
I brush it away with the back of my hand and imagine what it will feel like to open my coffee shop to the public.
I picture streams of people coming inside, admiring the travel themed designs on the walls, savoring the fresh, rich coffee and sweet apples.
I can do this.
“Okay,” I say, “new subject.”
Skyler nods and crosses her legs. “Absolutely.” She dips her finger into the cone to gather the sugar collected at the bottom. “Soo, Roman…”
“No.”
She holds her hands palms up. “Oh, come on, my relationship is dying at least let me live vicariously through you.” She says it flippantly, but I see the flicker of pain in her eyes.
I nudge her knee with my socked foot. “When did you last talk to Leda?”
Skyler shrugs. “She messaged a few days ago. After she missed our call.” She flashes a bitter smile. “Who knew wholesale produce is a 24/7 type job?”
I bite my tongue against the profanities I want to spout.
I have to remind myself that I’ve never met Leda and you should probably know a person for longer than three weeks before you tell them they should dump their girlfriend.
Instead, I just say, “If you want to talk about it or if you ever need me, I’m here. ”
“Do you know what would help?” Skyler asks, her face the picture of innocence.
“Me telling you all the sordid details about my nonexistent relationship with Roman?”
Skyler’s mouth rounds in glee. “They’re sordid?”
I tip my head back. “Only in my dreams.”
“Tell me you’ve at least kissed.” She presses her palms together like she’s praying for my promiscuity.
I sigh. “Once.”
Her eyes bug out. “And?!”
“He thinks I don’t remember.”
She blinks. “Why would he think that?”
I gather our empty paper cones and stand up.
“It’s complicated.” I put the cones in an old plastic bag I’m using as a trash can.
I expect someday I’ll tell Skyler everything that happened between me and Roman but it’s not a pretty story.
And anytime I think of that kiss, I think of what happened later that night.
I think of what I did because of that night.
I was a stupid kid, I did a lot of reckless things, but I only ever did one thing I really shouldn’t have, and I don’t want to spend my first night in my own place rehashing memory lane.
“Hey, Lola.”
I turn to face Skyler and only just manage to catch the apple she throws my way.
“Tell me more about this apple plan of yours.”
The tension drains from my shoulders, grateful for the out she’s offering.
I rejoin Skyler on our makeshift picnic blanket and tell her about my business plan.
The key to the whole thing is convincing an orchard to sell me their bruised and unsellable stock for dirt cheap.
The apples are peeled before being made into fries and as we need to cut them up anyway it will be easy to avoid the bruised sections.
“The local apple orchard is owned by Jarred North. His mom runs the Heart Home Foundation and his brother, Huxley, was in my year at school,” I tell Skyler. “I’m going to go visit him tomorrow to pitch my idea and if he likes it, we’ll be golden.”
Skyler gives a strong nod. “He’ll like it. It’s a good plan with no downside for him. And it will help stop food waste.”
“That’s the idea.”
Skyler picks up the bottle of champagne and pours us both another mug (she hadn’t wanted to risk bringing champagne glasses). She lifts her mug up. “To coffee shops, apple fries, and complicated love lives.”
I grin and clink my mug against hers. “To apple fries and coffee shops and new friends who have no boundaries.”
Skyler laughs. “Ah, the best kind.”