I overheard on Friday that she loved fruit.

“She can‘t get enough of them!” cried her friend, laughing at some conversation that I would probably never understand.

But it gave me an idea as we walked from lunch to our classes. Maybe I could buy her some fruit.

So the weekend came and I was at the store, filling my basket to the brim full of odd shapes and colors. The old man at the register eyed me strangely as the total came up to a sickening price, but I pulled out my money and paid.

As soon as I was home, I packed away the “fruits” of my labor, the result of working part-time at a fast food restaurant, into nice little containers, ready to be eaten within the week.

Monday arrived quickly enough and I marched my way over to her table, bag in hand, and tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

When she turned, that sweet, brilliant smile of hers grew across her face and she asked me in a soft voice, “Yes?”

Her friends giggled obnoxiously as I reached inside my paper bag and produced my produce. I placed the lemon in her hand and smiled, turning and walking away quickly before I could see her expression. I was all too sure of what look she had on.

I sat at the base of my tree and looked over at her table. She was biting into the yellow oval and making some odd expressions. Her friends laughed as she lost all control of her face muscles and asked her for a piece.

My little yellow oval looked quite tempting too. I bite into it without a thought and felt my face implode. But it was definitely a good kind of implosion.

And by the smile she had on her face, she thought so too.