Page 24 of Apple of My Eye
‘First of all, it’s a general store. Second of all, you said something offensive.’
‘I asked how you liked your apples!’ Nick cries in exasperation. ‘You sniffed, like, every single one.’
‘No!’ I exclaim, not ready to let him off the hook so easily. ‘You asked me how I liked my .?.?.’ I gesture at my chest. Nick pales. ‘My boobs!’ I finish loudly.
Nick’s jaw goes slack with surprise. ‘It’s a movie quote!’
Fuck. Mom was definitely right. Why didn’t I google it before he came over?‘I think “how do you like them apples” is slang for tits,’ I say, doubling down as frankly as I can manage.
He chuckles, and his grin gets even wider. ‘Clearly you need to watchGood Will Hunting. And you do realize what you were wearing, right?’
‘Not the point,’ I huff.
‘You picked up and smelled every single apple. You were wearing bright red shoes and an apple-emblazoned T-shirt. I am here to learn about apple farming. I thought it was the perfect reference. I’m a nice guy, I swear.’ He holds his hands up.
I raise an eyebrow at him.
‘You just tell me when you want to come over and watchGood Will Hunting, OK? It’s the least I can do to repay you for taking me for a walk.’
‘You don’t need to repay me,’ I manage to say despite my insides screamingGO WATCH THE DAMN MOVIE, ELOISE.
Nick’s smile gets bigger and bigger, like he can’t contain his grin anymore. He bursts into laughter, his entire body shaking with it.
I can’t help but start to laugh too. I laugh so hard I start to cry. Nick is wheezing next to me, slapping his hand on the kitchen counter. ‘You thought I asked about your boobs,’ he says, in between breaths. ‘Me!’
Chapter Twelve
Nick
WEEK TWO
I’ve hardy sat down the next morning when Mrs. Parker asks, ‘Nick, what’s a four-letter summer?’ She’s sitting across from me at the kitchen table, morning sun streaming in from the window behind the sink. ‘And did your friends ever answer about visiting?’
‘They would love to come,’ I tell her. Upon my arrival, Mrs. Parker made one thing clear—U-Pick weekend (the first weekend the farm will have visitors) is a huge deal. In fact, she insisted I invite my friends up to the farm. Julian and Isaac both jumped at the chance; even though Isaac grumbled about having to reschedule a weekend tournament, he booked his flights in under fifteen minutes. Ever since he’s been texting me things like ‘How goes it from where the other half lives?’ and ‘Is the Wi-Fi good enough to stream the Giants game?’
I tap my index finger to my chin. ‘OK, Mrs. Parker .?.?. is the four-letter summer a seasonal clue? Something to do with fruits or veggies?’
‘Betsy,’ she corrects me. She gets up and pours me a coffee, setting down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast despite my protests that she doesn’t have to cook every meal for me. ‘Pear summer? No, that doesn’t make sense,’ she mutters to herself. ‘Farm summer? Donna Summer! That’s it! Oh wait, that’s five letters .?.?.’
When I come back downstairs changed and ready for the day, Betsy is still working away at her crossword. ‘Nick, it starts with a B,’ she says as I pull on my work boots. ‘Baby summer? This makes no sense.’
‘Oh!’ I start to laugh having finally realized the clue. ‘It’s BRAT summer, Mrs. P.’
‘Brat? Like a bratwurst?’
‘Um.’ I try to swallow my laughter. ‘Kind of. Spelled like a bratty kid.’
‘Hmmm.’ She turns back towards her crossword. ‘Brat summer .?.?.’
‘It’s from a music album,’ I try to explain, but she’s already absorbed with the next clue, a soft smile on her face.
While I am better at guessing crossword answers than I gave myself credit for, everything else is much worse than I thought. Not that I’ve told Isaac or Julian that.
Isaac: Guys, they’re taking our cohort to Nobu this Thursday for lunch.
Julian: Stop bragging.
Julian: But they’re taking us to a Giants game. In the Owner’s suite.
