two hearts and 99 cents

i'll turn this into a movie maybe

a cute love story that all started with $10.

“melt, v.1” by me. what’s your fav ice cream flavor?

$10

he was buying me lunch since I forgot my credit card in my tote bag, which I left inside the office (completely on character). One taco for each of us, $5 each.

“thanks,” I murmur shly. “i’ll pay you back next week. promise.”

“no, you don’t have to. really, it’s just $5,” he replies with a shrug.

well, i’m paying him back anyway. I was taught to be frugal from a young age and $5 is definitely something. it’s another taco, for crying out loud!

$5

next week, during lunch, I hand him the $5.

he takes it in one hand and grabs my hand with the other. my eyes go wide with surprise. an adult boy is holding my hand!!!!!

“where are we going?” I stutter as we run down the street.

he doesn’t respond. we arrive at the corner ice cream shop.

there’s no line. it’s like we own whole place, and I like how that feels.

“two cookies and cream. single scoop.” he doesn’t let go of my hand or that crazy grin on his face.

an adult boy is holding my hand and knows my favorite ice cream flavor!!!!!

I make a mental memo that I owe this dude $2.50 as I press my lips against the cold, creamy treat and lick it off of one of those tiny plastic spoons. it’s sweeter than I remember.

point of the story, I guess $5 is more like…two ice creams. not another taco.

as I’m thinking this I spill a little of the vanilla part of the cookies and cream ice cream on my pants.*

*my mom’s french tailored suit pants.**

**that I stole from her closet.

$2.50

it’s been two weeks since the ice cream affair. he wasn’t in the office last week, but I see him at his desk now diligently working.

I rub some lavender-scented lotion on my hands, just in case it’s going to be held again.

I walk over and place exactly two bucks and two quarters on his desk.

he raises his eyebrows, mid-sip of his coke.

“seriously? you’re hilarious.”

“not hilarious,” I reply in all seriousness. “frugal.”

to make things worse, I add, “and I keep a spreadsheet.” it’s a slight obsession of mine.

he fidgets with the coin between his fingers, but I keep my eyes on his face. “you know what I can get with this?”

there’s that sly grin again. guess I’m pulling up that spreadsheet when I get back to my desk.

$1.45

I arrive to work a little late (on character), at 9:08 or something. bad traffic…it wasn’t like this last week, I swear!

on my desk is a banana.

a banana with a smiley face, clearly drawn with a sharpie.

I pick it up and examine it. In tiny letters: Potassium. $1.45.

I smirk. I can feel him staring at me this whole time, trying to gauge my reaction, but I don’t look at him. not yet.

I just start peeling the banana and take a bite. that’s when we make eye contact.

He mouths something like, “you’re welcome.”

but man, that’s expensive for one banana…

$9.99

we’re walking home from the subway when it starts raining. neither of us has an umbrella, because we thought we could trust the weather app.

laughing and soaked, we run inside the nearest store and he grabs the cheapest one we could find.

We head to the self-checkout spot.

“look what I brought!” I cheekily pull out my credit card.

“good for you!” he replies, feigning surprise.

he pulls out his wallet.

“hey! put that away. I think it’s my turn now.”

he shrugs and does as I say.

we head outside. he opens the umbrella, which barely fits one of us, so we squeeze together, shoulder-to-shoulder, bodies hunched forward.

I sigh happily, knowing this is probably the only time I don’t have to worry about my posture.

$0

the next Friday, he shows up at my desk with two homemade tacos in a plastic container.

“I think I’m just gonna bring my own lunch now. i’m a little disturbed by inflation.”

he’s grinning again. the grin that’s always a little crazy, lopsided and sweet and spontaneous.

and it’s priceless. ◈