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.