↶Chapter 4
Chapter Five
Two words for you.
Mini. Tostas.
Remember it as if it were your own mothers name because you should love it.
I went on a solo vacation to Braga once, the summer that I was graduating from high school. My parents were pretty OTT about the fact that they could not imagine their seventeen-year-old daughter flying alone on a plane for over fourteen hours alone, doing God knows what. I was having a pre, pre, pre midlife crisis and I needed some time to myself to run away and be free. I needed to work out all my issues, and where I was heading in life. I absolutely begged them. I said I would share my location with them so they would know where I was always, and I would video call them twice a day at the bare minimum, bolt the door at all times and carry pepper spray. It took them some time to finally agree, but they saw that I needed it too. My parents are far from the type to try to clip my wings.
That seems so long ago now but I will always remember that trip fondly.
How could I not?
It is the trip that introduced me to the mini tosta.
The mini tosta, simply put, is a crouton shaped like bread.
When I was in Braga, I had them every morning for breakfast, usually with a slice of cheese and some butter. One morning, I even upgraded them with a glass of wine. My American accent and lack of company must have fooled the shopkeeper there as he did not ask me for any age verification. Lucky me.
Since returning from Braga, I have continued to purchase mini tosta’s as often as I can. I must get them from a special website which imports them, which make them super duper overpriced. I am giving them all the hype in the world, which they deserve and trust me. I feel acquired and refined whenever I sit down and eat them, however later, I heard from my dad that there is nothing special at all about them.
Actually, they're pretty basic!
That is what he says anyway. Today is a good day to eat mini tosta’s because Olivia is here, and she understands me and agrees that culture is refined taste.
It is three thirty, so we have four hours and a half before Atticus picks us up. Olivia is adamant it is not enough time to get ready, but she will have to make do with it as she wants to arrive on time to make a good impression for Larissa, Chris' new girlfriend.
"You know he'll be posting a new girlfriend in a few months, right?" I tell her.
"You're such a pessimist, Verona," She says as she applies foundation to her face.
"No, I'd say I'm a realist," I tell her while taking a loud bite out of another tosta.
"Are you realist having another one?" She playfully mocks me.
I burst out into a large, loud giggle. Before Olivia was a complete beauty addict, she was actually a really big goof ball. She was awkward and a bit of a class clown at times. Ever since she turned a little vain, she presents herself more seriously. However, at times she gives me little glimmers of what she used to be, just like she did just then.
"I really am" I say, and I scoff the last of it down, still giggling.
"You're not eating any tosta’s." I note aloud, using an accent as I say tosta.
She goes to speak, and I cut her off from saying whatever crappy excuse I know she has in mind to tell me.
"Don't tell me it's a calorie thing come on, Olivia, they're literally croutons! There are like 10 calories in these things,” I lecture her.
"You know I'm scared of gluten," she says childishly and stares harder into the mirror she's using.
I give out a loud sigh and look at her.
"Olivia, really?" I moan at her.
She sighs too and looks away from the mirror to look at me. She rolls her eyes and stares down at the plate with a guilty expression displayed on her face.
"I'll eat one if it'll make you happy," she groans.
"I'm not if you're pretending! You always loved my tosta’s and now you can barely look at them," I whine at her.
She lets out a loud gasp of air and rolls her eyes once more. I can see tears beginning to fill up in her eyes and she moves her head backwards and looks up towards the ceiling. She sniffles a little.
"You had to make a fuss didn't you Verona?" She says, her voice cracking as she almost breaks out into a yell.
I gulp; I didn't expect this kind of reaction from her. I think of the right words to say but I'm struggling as I don't entirely understand what's wrong. Olivia is the kind of girl who hates emotion if it isn't positive or with an attitude, so I always tread carefully in these rare moments.
"What's up with you?" I ask her.
"Look, it's just this shit with my mom and dad okay," she sneers at me in an almost threatening way.
She breathes heavily and shrugs her shoulders like she's stretching, as she tries to work out how to relax again.
"Ugh, I don't mean to be a bitch, Verona. Everything's just a complete mess and this thing with my eating, well it helps me to feel in control." she explains, and a small sob escapes her throat as she finishes speaking.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner? This isn't a healthy way to cope with things," I tell her.
"I'm in control, Verona, I eat I promise you. You've seen me. I go to the gym, and I eat a lot. I never go into calorie deficit. It's just controlling what I eat and what goes into my body," she tries to reassure me, but I'm not completely convinced, and it doesn’t really comfort me.
I decide not to press her because she seems like she wants to avoid the conversation. She's fidgeting uncomfortably and searching mindlessly through her makeup bag; I don't think she even knows what she's looking for. I feel sad too, like I'm ready to cry over seeing her like this. So, I change the conversation, she’s always appreciative towards me when I deflect away from her feelings. I shouldn’t really enable her like that, but I do have a soft spot for Olivia.
"Well, tell me if you need support. Anyway, you didn't show me what you're wearing tonight," I say in a hurried pace.
The corners of her mouth turn upwards to form into a smile, and she looks up at me. She sniffles dramatically once more.
"I already did. I got it when we went shopping but thank you," she tells me.
I look up at her and she looks as though she's about to burst into tears, she looks up towards the ceiling again and then searches through her makeup bag again, this time with a calmer deposition.
She gets out her contour palette and she start working on her face again.
"Aren't you going to get ready?" She asks me, she reaches down to pick up a tosta from the silver tray and she places a small square of cheese on top of it. She puts it in her mouth, all in one and grins proudly at me.
I nod my head at her, force a smile and start applying my makeup.
It takes longer than I expected it to. I hardly ever wear makeup so I'm beyond unskilled with it. Olivia helps me with my contour and by the time we're done I feel almost unrecognizable. She takes out her curl rollers, while I straighten my hair and then we put on our dresses. It's a pretty chilly evening and Olivia's dress is so short I worry that she'll get frostbite.
It's almost time for Atticus to pick us up and we've relocated downstairs so I can clean up a bit. We're listening to music loudly and having a pre drink before the pre funk, so I suppose this is pre, pre drinks considering the pre drinks were planned vitamin Rs at Chris's place. The music is so loud we almost miss the sound of my doorbell ringing. I get up from the sofa and open the door.
Atticus is standing on my doorstep with a small smile on his face and one eyebrow raised upwards.
"I called like ten times," he says in a deep voice and laughs.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear," I explain, smiling brightly at him.
"I'm not surprised, I could hear your music from my place." He chuckles, reaching his hand out towards me, he places it on my elbow.
"No way." I laugh back, feeling something rising within my stomach.
"No, not really." He replies, pulling me into a hug. He smells like toasted cinnamon, I wonder why he's being so nice.
"Is Atticus finally here?" Olivia shouts.
I can hear a ruckus behind me, Atticus quickly pulls away from me and I turn around to see Olivia running towards me. Right now, Olivia running in high heels is similar to what I'd imagine a baby deer walking in heels would look like. She looks far from graceful.
"Atticus, you came!" She says in an excited voice as she reaches the door.
"Is she drunk? "Atticus asks me, then looks at Olivia and lets out a laugh.
"She had a glass of wine that's all," I answer.
"I am here, and I'm not drunk! Just excited to finally leave! So, let's go guys," Olivia exclaims and pushes past Atticus to continue her wild walk outside.
"Tonight, is going to be interesting," Atticus says to me as we start walking down the steps that lead to my house, towards his car.
"I bet you already know that," I tell him.
He pauses for a moment and turns to look at me.
"Do you want to know?" He asks me, a small smirk creeping onto his face.
"What? You’re saying that you can tell me what's going to happen at the party tonight?" I question.
"Yes," he says, the smile still on his face.
I laugh and roll my eyes again. There is no way he's going to predict what will happen at the party tonight and be right about it. Though, the thought is exciting, and he has been right thus far. This could be a good opportunity to test the sincerity of his statements.
"So, tell me," I agree, gazing at him with intensity.
He starts walking towards the car again at a slower pace, clicks the fob on his car keys to unlock his car and ushers for Olivia can get in. She quizzically stares at us for a moment before entering Atticus's vehicle through the front passenger door.
*"Well, long story short. Chris is going to get so drunk he forgets what happened tonight, but anyone could have guessed that. Chris is going to rattle a lot of strings for some people but don’t worry he will drag himself back down to earth at some point. Olivia is going to be a little disappointed to meet Larissa and I am not entirely sure if it will end in a cat fight however, I believe they will end up saving that for a later date and we will all find a way to have fun. But this party is doomed from the start. I'll leave it at that because I don't want to spoil your night," he tells me.
"You're a really mysterious guy sometimes, Atticus," I laugh at him.
He turns back to look at me again and looks as though he's about to say something, but he faces back towards his car instead and continues walking.
"I guess you're in the back! Try not to warm up for that cat fight in my car," he laughs.
He gets into his car, and I open the door behind him, get in and shut the car door behind me a little hard. I feel a little irritated; Atticus is my best friend which means I obviously get honorary rights to the front passenger seat.
"Are we ready to go?" Atticus asks us.
I can see him looking back at me from his front mirror with his mouth smirked.
"I'm ready!" Olivia calls out in her sweet sing-song voice. Like ice that doesn’t melt, like she didn't just break the code and steal my seat.
"I'm ready." I say in a deadpan voice.
Atticus revs his engine, and the car speeds off into the night. Atticus plays slow indie R and B music through his speakers. Our music style is kind of similar yet completely different. I like everything he plays, and he likes everything I play however we would never add each other’s music to our own playlists, strangely. I can hear Atticus and Olivia speaking quietly from the front, but I can barely hear them over the music. I look out the window and Watch Columbia city unfold in front of me. This place looks nothing like the center points of Seattle, it’s far less modern and the streets are less bustled currently. Chris lives right at the center of Columbia city, the high school we all attended is pretty close to his house.
We pull into Chris's driveway and exit Atticus' car.
