Who Knew There Were Different Kinds of Red Apples
by Luka Maeda

I lay my fingers on the red "meat."
I exaggerate when I write "meat" because I only mean a measly apple. A red apple.
The "meat" is now encompassed entirely by my fat fingers and my nails slowly fig into the fruit. 

...But my other hand reaches for a different one. This, time, green. And now when I mean this green entity, I really just mean your classic granny smith.
I also wrap my fingers around this fruit. 

"Quit mucking around and eat your apple."

...So I have two apples, right? I want to eat both, but because I was mucking around, I only have enough time to eat one. 

But that doesn't really mean anything because I can eat both - just at different times. I can eat the fuji apple now and save my green one for later. I don't necessarily have to choose one or the other. I just have to list my priorities. 

"I swear to God - choose an apple and eat, Laen. This is the exact reason why you have 49 tardies because you overthink over some... apples."

Yeah, I do think a lot. 

Eventually I do take a bite out of the green apple first. The crunch overflow my dry mouth, quenching the thirst I was seeking. It's sour for sure and it doesn't fit everyone's taste buds but that's what makes it addicting.

I ran to the car, red in one hand and my mom would not stop her verbal regurgitation. 

"Didn't you read the letter from, uh, the office? You get a fine for having consistent tardies, yeah? You... know I can't afford that now, Laen."

"Yeah, I know."

I waved her goodbye and ran to physio. I sat down but today's a sub so I took this opportunity to give the red apple a shine and take a bite. 

...Just as I figured, it's sweet. Tangy. But since it's my second apple, it feels like a lot in my stomach. And even though I like both apples, I can't eat, I don't know, five of them or else I'd explode. 

...Do you see where I'm going with this?

Does this make sense?

God, I hope it does.