Apple-y Ever After - Chapter 8
Kissing Milo was even more fun than learning the choreography for the Jurassic Park song “Hold On To Your Butts” in the hallway outside Milo’s apartment. She almost had it down when it came time to light the candle.
He tasted like cinnamon and champagne, or maybe that was her. She was a little dizzy from all the spinning. They kissed long enough and hungrily enough that the partygoers started to whoop at them, and they broke apart on matching smiles.
“Thank you,” Milo whispered.
Then he turned his attention to the group. “Last call to cast your votes for the winning apple crisp, everyone! Consider your vote a birthday gift for me. I really want to know what the best apple is.”
Someone handed him back the crisp with the candle in it.
“Which one is this?” he asked Saskia.
“I bet you can guess.”
He ate a spoonful and then offered her a bite. His recipe was incredible, rich and flavorful but still apple-forward.
“It has to be the Clemens Climax,” he said.
“Once you taste a Clemens Climax, you will accept no substitute.”
Sure, it was weird that her parents were horny enough to name an apple variety after an orgasm, but one of those orgasms resulted in her presence on this planet, so she couldn’t begrudge them. Her parents’ love was honestly aspirational.
Not wanting to monopolize his time, and knowing she would stay until the bitter end of the party, she returned to her dance lessons while Milo ran a brisk voter turnout campaign. When 11:00 p.m. rolled around, Milo did a final call for votes, walking the ballot box around his apartment. Then he rolled out a whiteboard from his bedroom (of course he had a whiteboard in his bedroom) and Saskia tallied the votes as Milo read out the results.
Granny Smith and Clemens Climax tied for first place.
“I cast the tie-breaking vote,” Milo said, “and Clemens Climax takes the prize!”
This declaration received raucous cheers. That prompted the downstairs neighbors to thump something against their ceiling, signaling the party’s end. The crowd quickly dispersed, departing for second locations or their homes.
Finally, only Milo, Saskia, and a mountain of dirty dishes remained.
“Everyone loved you,” Milo told her.
“Everyone loves you,” she clarified, “and it colors their opinions of me.”
“I love them all, too, but I couldn’t wait for them to leave,” he said.
“Oh?”
“It feels like every moment I’m not touching you is wasted time,” he said, and it set her alight. She hated nothing more than wasting time, and he was a kindred spirit. Plus, the magnitude of his wanting, the clarity of it, drew her to him irrevocably.
“Let’s not waste any more time then,” she replied.