AA ISLAND: 3

60 3 0
                                    

The two of us bolt out of the restaurant, and I tell him we won't need his car for this one. "Let's walk and explore," I say. "Just like the forest."

We stroll down the strip, shops running along on either side of us. Strangely, they remind me of people. There's a neon-pink store selling high heels, which I name Becca Jarbitch. 

Around us, the world rolls smoothly, cars lazily cruising between the two sides of shops, the road pebbled with stop lights to let people cross. The air feels damp and misty on my cheeks, cool and refreshing, like submerging your head under a pool of dew. The air smells of cigarette smoke after rain and the faint trace of food, wafting out from diners and restaurants.

A little further down, I point to a street vendor selling hot dogs. Aaron snorts, saying that his mom makes vegetarian sausages all the time, but I persist. "Do you want your life changed or not?" I demand.

We stand in line, immediately blasted with the smell of roasting hot dogs and drizzling cheese. Aaron asks if the food is sanitary, and I shrug. "A little salmonella never hurt," I joke.

The line moves quickly, and soon we're at the front, looking up at a man who's watching over a dozen sausages turn on rows of steel cylinders. They're sectioned off with the types of dogs they are, ranging from ones stuffed with cheese to various kinds of meat. I let Aaron order first, who gets a plain beef. On the contrary, I order one with bits of cheese.

Aaron looks at me for tips on the toppings. "Melted Swiss and chili," I instruct. Aaron frowns, glancing worriedly at the veggies, and I ask for a layer of lettuce to make him happy.

Meanwhile, I pile on a good amount of sauerkraut and shredded cheese, with onions and tomatoes. Aaron notices the veggies on my dog, casting a look of fake betrayal in my direction. "You'll thank me later," I wink, right after I ask for a gigantic bag of greasy popcorn.

Aaron pays without question, not even letting me reach for my wallet. However, his attention can hardly stay on the cashier. His eyes bug out of his head at the sight of the bag of popcorn, artificially yellow and glistening in the little remainder of sun.

"We're going to eat that entire thing?" Aaron bewilderedly asks, walking beside me and holding his hot dog out like a shield. I nod triumphantly, balancing it in the crook of my elbow while I take a gigantic bite out of my dog. "The entire thing," I confirm.

"I think you secretly want to make me fat, then test how many one-night stands I get."

"That sounds pretty fun, now that I think of it."

Aaron rolls his eyes, bringing the hot dog up to his nose. "That's an awful lot of oil," he mutters. "How many calories do you think are in this chili?"

"Not enough." I take another bite, letting out a groan.

Aaron stares at me, completely forgetting his hot dog. I slap his shoulder, and tell him if he gave his meal half as much love that he gives sex, he'd have already finished.

Aaron takes a hesitant bite, chewing slowly. "Another gift from God, huh?" I goad.

He swallows, his lips gradually broadening into a smile. "Goddamn, where have I been this whole time?"

Aaron races me to see who can finish their hot dog first, and naturally, he wins. Honestly, he could probably down the whole hot dog in one bite. I laugh aloud at this thought, asking him if he should have one-night stands with guys instead. "Shut the hell up," he mutters, sheepish.

We start snacking on the back of popcorn, tunneling through half of it. Aaron decrees that he if he eats any more his stomach will burst, and gives the remainder to a homeless man leaning against a storefront. He thanks us with a crinkly smile.

COSMOS | CompleteWhere stories live. Discover now