Chapter Four

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flare | a sudden burst of intense emotion

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1/29/17

I AM WANDERING downtown alone as my headphones blast music in my ears. The alone time is nice. I love my mother and my best friend, but some days I just need to be by myself. Away from my mother and everything she wants me to achieve that she couldn't, and away from my best friend who I love but pushes me out of my comfort zone.

The door jingles as I push into the local market. A sweet elderly couple that produces some of the freshest fruits and vegetables in the area runs it. My mother, when she can, likes to shop local rather than at big name supermarkets.

"Hello Mae!" Mrs. Scott shouts at me from behind the counter. She's one of the owners along with her husband. Since my mother has been shopping here for years we've become pretty close with the owners who are beyond kind.

"Hi," I respond with a gentle smile. "How are you today?" I question as I begin to scope out the fruit isle in the mood for maybe an apple to snack on.

"Oh you know the usual," she sighs as she cleans up behind the counter.

"So that means busy day and lazy husband," I say with a teasing tone. For being a small market, the shop does fairly well with local families who grew up with the Scott's always being down the street. And while Mrs. Scott loves her husband dearly, they also bicker constantly. She says he's lazy, and he says she's stubborn. But even through all of that they always make sure to say they love each other after each quarrel. She says it's their one rule.

A bark of laughter breaks out on her humble face. "Oh Mae, men are just the worst," she tells me.

Suddenly the front door jingles and in walks Asher who's stormy eyes immediately meets mine.

"Yes," I agree at the appearance of the single man who exemplifies being the worst. "They are."

I turn my back and head towards the small bakery at the back of the store. I wanted an apple, but now I want something sweet. My weakness, and as my eyes flicker up to watch Asher step closer to me I realize I may have more than one.

Donuts. Sugar bagels. Circular fried pastries covered in pink frosting and a million colorful sprinkles. I love sweets, but to be more specific I love donuts.

I reach into the glass shelf that sits in the wall that holds daily made fresh pastries. I grab the pink one, my favorite, with the plastic bag and then tuck into the small brown bag beside the shelf.

"You like donuts?" I hear Asher's deep voice slide up from behind me.

I turn with the small crinkly bag in my hand. "Who doesn't?" I inquire with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugs without responding as if he can't think of a plausible answer or he doesn't care to. Either way I turn and make my way to Mrs. Scott at the checkout counter and hand her the single dollar bill for the pastry.

"Thank you," I tell her as she hands me my receipt.

"See you next week?" she plays knowing I tell her every week I'm going to stop buying donuts. And every week I come back for the deliciously sweet dessert that is my drug.

"You know I can't stay away," I tell her as a small giggle falls from my lips. I push the front door open and walk out into the sunshine when I hear footsteps following me.

"What do you want?" I ask as I pause next to a car and flip to face a smirking Asher.

"You're supposed to use that line on me," he says as his hands cross over his toned chest.

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