Looking Through the Cracks

Chapter 6: Burgers and a Breakdown

B walked over to the linoleum table top where Ivy sat. He was carrying a red plastic tray stacked with a brown paper bag and two drinks. His sneakers squeaked along the tile floor, still a little damp from his dive into the basin. As soon as the tray hit the table, B began rummaging through the greasy bag as if its contents were encrusted in gold. When his hands reemerged from the bag they held a wrapped burger and a handful of french fries.

Ivy looked at B irritably as she examined the inside of the bag. "You better not be taking my french fries."

After scrutinizing the bag for the container with the most french fries, Ivy pulled the fullest one out. Lastly, she withdrew her burger and placed it neatly beside her fries. Looking to see which drink was her soda, Ivy noticed B's vanilla milkshake. Ivy made a little chuckle under her breath.

"You have something to say about my food?" B mumbled around a mouthful of burger.

Ivy couldn't help but laugh at how ravenous B was when he was hungry. Ivy hadn't even unwrapped her burger yet, and already B was halfway done his. She imagined if she went to take one of his fries, she would probably lose a finger or two. Ivy lightly shook her, bringing her attention back to B's question.

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just you don't really seem like a "vanilla milkshake" kinda guy."

Swallowing his mouthful, B grabbed said milkshake from the tray and removed the flimsy plastic lid. Focusing a little too intently on it he said "Well, looks can be deceiving." Ivy couldn't help but notice the lack of playfulness in B's voice. She was about to ask him about it when she noticed B pull a french fry from the pile on his tray, and then dunk it in his milkshake. Ivy couldn't help but pause mid-bite as her icy green eyes grew wide in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"Mixing my fries with my milkshake." As B scooped another french fry into his milkshake, Ivy saw the glob of creamy ice cream slowly oozing back into the cup. B grinned with satisfaction as he took a bite." Haven't you tried it before?"

Ivy's body cringed with disgust.

"Ugh, that's so gross. Why do you have to go and ruin something that's already amazing as it is?" Ivy picked a french fry from her bag and took a bite from it, reveling in the salty taste.

"How? It combines two of the best things in the world. French fries and ice cream. If anything I'm making a good thing, extra good. It's like raising french fries to the second power." He took another big bite of an ice cream-soaked fry and closed his eyes for dramatic enjoyment. When he opened them he saw Ivy staring at him, her face appearing even more confused than before with her jaw now slack.

"What?" B asked.

"Did you just use math as a metaphor for food?"

"Yes, I did. And if you think you're going to question my taste in food and mock me for my math metaphors, then you are surely mistaken." Taking another french fry from his stack, B plunged it into his milkshake. When he withdrew the gooey fry he pointed it towards Ivy. "So you can either admit my metaphor is brilliant and just take my word for that this is the best combination to ever exist. Or, you can try it, and realize for yourself that my metaphor is, again, brilliant." With the same crooked grin he'd been giving Ivy all day, B waggled the food concoction in front of her face, cautious not to let any of the ice cream drip.

Ivy rolled her eyes."Fine. But I'm only going to try it so I can tell you for a fact it–"

She was suddenly caught off when B shoved the melting fry into her mouth. Before Ivy could finish her sentence B had shoved the fry into her mouth. At first, her mouth scrunched up in disgust, preparing to spit it out. But slowly her face relaxed, and her look of skepticism morphed into glee. She enjoyed it so much that she grabbed one of her fries and quickly dipped it in B's shake before he could stop her.