Mission_insane: In Which Lime Green Polyester is Not Fierce
Title: In Which Lime Green Polyester is Not Fierce.
Fandom: Original
Rating: K
Genre: General
Word Count: 721
Summary: “Didn’t you hear? Straight jackets are the latest fashion.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “But then again, you’re wearing lime-green polyester. So not fierce.”
Table/Prompt: Phrases/Do You Want Fries With That?
In Which Lime Green Polyester is Not Fierce
“Hey, Carter, aren’t you going to ask if-”
“Don’t even say it,” Carter says flatly.
Psh. Like that will stop me. “-If I want fries with that?” I finish, grinning at him.
Carter half-glares at me from across the counter. The effect is killed by the fact that he’s wearing a lime-green polyester apron and a matching visor, both screaming the Smoothie Planet logo. He puts my strawberry-banana smoothie on the counter between us, and then leans forward on his elbows. “We don’t have fries,” he says in the same flat tone. “We have smoothies, milkshakes, and slushies.”
I take a sip of the smoothie, all the while smiling at my friend’s semi-annoyed expression. “You should fix that, Carter. Fries are a staple of life. Like peanut butter.” Carter hates peanut butter, so maybe that wasn’t such a great analogy.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re crazy?” He pushes his visor up with the heel of his hand, and then pushes it back down. “Like…needs-to-be-locked-up crazy.”
“Didn’t you hear? Straight jackets are the latest fashion.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “But then again, you’re wearing lime-green polyester. So not fierce.”
He looks at me blankly. “That’ll be three-oh-nine.”
“Oh, that’s how it is, huh?” I put my drink back down on the counter.
“Yes, ma’am, that’s generally how this works.” He says this as if talking to a normal customer; all charming-the perfect Southern gentleman.
“If I give you a hug, can I get it free?” I ask, not exactly hopeful.
“Nope,” he says, looking amused.
His friend Zach-who is also Smoothie Planet’s acting-manager-comes over, a mischievous look in his eyes. “You know what, Kelsey? You give Carter here a kiss, and you get your smoothie free.”
Carter’s mouth opens slightly in protest, but I cut him off. “Make it free smoothies for a month and you’ve got a deal,” I say to Zach.
“Free smoothies for a year if it’s on the lips,” he barters.
“Two months, and on the cheek.” I might love Carter a lot, but I’m not making out with him in the middle of the mall.
“Uh, do I get a say in this?” Carter questions, looking a little flustered-which makes me laugh, because he’s always Mr. Cool.
In response to his question, Zach and I look to each other. We communicate through raised eyebrows and odd facial expression. Then, we turn to Carter and cheerfully say, “Nope!”
“So, three months of free smoothies for a kiss on the cheek,” I finalize.
Zach doesn’t seem to notice that I tacked on a month. “Deal,” he says, holding out a hand for me to shake. I give him a firm handshake and then grin at Carter, who has watched this exchange with an extremely confused expression.
I lean in and quickly press my lips against his cheek. It only lasts for a second, until I pull back and take another long sip of my (free, holla!) smoothie.
Zach is grinning like an idiot as he watches for Carter’s reaction. Carter straightens up and turns his back to us, suddenly intent on cleaning the smoothie machine behind him. I can see him reflected in the metal-his face is flushed. This confuses me a bit, because, as I’ve said, Carter is Mr. Cool. Like, I’m pretty sure I could count on one hand how many times I’ve seen him express emotions so readily.
It’s sweet, though, so I just leave it be. “Zach? I’ll be needing written confirmation of my free smoothies.”
Zach grabs a napkin and a pen from the counter and scrawls out a message. He hands me the napkin. It reads, “Three months of free smoothies for Kelsey Turner. Reason? Giving Phipps some lips.”
I laugh at this and then neatly fold the napkin in half and put it in my purse. “Well. I will see you boys later.”
Carter looks up and catches my reflection in the smoothie machine. I wave, grinning. He raises a hand and then drops it. His expression is carefully blank-Mr. Cool is back in action. “Later,” he says.
I grab my smoothie and walk away.
And I swear, just before I’m out of earshot, I hear Carter indignantly say, “‘Giving Phipps some lips’? Dude, you’d better lock your doors tonight.”
Fandom: Original
Rating: K
Genre: General
Word Count: 721
Summary: “Didn’t you hear? Straight jackets are the latest fashion.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “But then again, you’re wearing lime-green polyester. So not fierce.”
Table/Prompt: Phrases/Do You Want Fries With That?
In Which Lime Green Polyester is Not Fierce
“Hey, Carter, aren’t you going to ask if-”
“Don’t even say it,” Carter says flatly.
Psh. Like that will stop me. “-If I want fries with that?” I finish, grinning at him.
Carter half-glares at me from across the counter. The effect is killed by the fact that he’s wearing a lime-green polyester apron and a matching visor, both screaming the Smoothie Planet logo. He puts my strawberry-banana smoothie on the counter between us, and then leans forward on his elbows. “We don’t have fries,” he says in the same flat tone. “We have smoothies, milkshakes, and slushies.”
I take a sip of the smoothie, all the while smiling at my friend’s semi-annoyed expression. “You should fix that, Carter. Fries are a staple of life. Like peanut butter.” Carter hates peanut butter, so maybe that wasn’t such a great analogy.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re crazy?” He pushes his visor up with the heel of his hand, and then pushes it back down. “Like…needs-to-be-locked-up crazy.”
“Didn’t you hear? Straight jackets are the latest fashion.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “But then again, you’re wearing lime-green polyester. So not fierce.”
He looks at me blankly. “That’ll be three-oh-nine.”
“Oh, that’s how it is, huh?” I put my drink back down on the counter.
“Yes, ma’am, that’s generally how this works.” He says this as if talking to a normal customer; all charming-the perfect Southern gentleman.
“If I give you a hug, can I get it free?” I ask, not exactly hopeful.
“Nope,” he says, looking amused.
His friend Zach-who is also Smoothie Planet’s acting-manager-comes over, a mischievous look in his eyes. “You know what, Kelsey? You give Carter here a kiss, and you get your smoothie free.”
Carter’s mouth opens slightly in protest, but I cut him off. “Make it free smoothies for a month and you’ve got a deal,” I say to Zach.
“Free smoothies for a year if it’s on the lips,” he barters.
“Two months, and on the cheek.” I might love Carter a lot, but I’m not making out with him in the middle of the mall.
“Uh, do I get a say in this?” Carter questions, looking a little flustered-which makes me laugh, because he’s always Mr. Cool.
In response to his question, Zach and I look to each other. We communicate through raised eyebrows and odd facial expression. Then, we turn to Carter and cheerfully say, “Nope!”
“So, three months of free smoothies for a kiss on the cheek,” I finalize.
Zach doesn’t seem to notice that I tacked on a month. “Deal,” he says, holding out a hand for me to shake. I give him a firm handshake and then grin at Carter, who has watched this exchange with an extremely confused expression.
I lean in and quickly press my lips against his cheek. It only lasts for a second, until I pull back and take another long sip of my (free, holla!) smoothie.
Zach is grinning like an idiot as he watches for Carter’s reaction. Carter straightens up and turns his back to us, suddenly intent on cleaning the smoothie machine behind him. I can see him reflected in the metal-his face is flushed. This confuses me a bit, because, as I’ve said, Carter is Mr. Cool. Like, I’m pretty sure I could count on one hand how many times I’ve seen him express emotions so readily.
It’s sweet, though, so I just leave it be. “Zach? I’ll be needing written confirmation of my free smoothies.”
Zach grabs a napkin and a pen from the counter and scrawls out a message. He hands me the napkin. It reads, “Three months of free smoothies for Kelsey Turner. Reason? Giving Phipps some lips.”
I laugh at this and then neatly fold the napkin in half and put it in my purse. “Well. I will see you boys later.”
Carter looks up and catches my reflection in the smoothie machine. I wave, grinning. He raises a hand and then drops it. His expression is carefully blank-Mr. Cool is back in action. “Later,” he says.
I grab my smoothie and walk away.
And I swear, just before I’m out of earshot, I hear Carter indignantly say, “‘Giving Phipps some lips’? Dude, you’d better lock your doors tonight.”