“Is this what you do every Saturday?” Grayson asked me.
“Who doesn’t like a surprise sticker?” I asked him. “Here, pull over. I haven’t passed out stickers in this park in a while.”
Grayson snorted.
“The best way to feel better,” I told him firmly, “is to focus energy outside yourself. Doing good deeds can help you turn that frown upside down. You can’t feel bad when you’re making others happy.”
He sighed heavily and got out of the car.
I linked my arm in his.
“Happy Saturday!” I said loudly to a group of tourists.
“Oh!” one of the older ladies cooed. “And people told me that New Yorkers weren’t friendly.”
“She’s from Florida,” Grayson said in a monotone.
“Well, I’m from Texas, and I was just at Disney World.”
“I love Disney!” I gushed.
“I can’t believewe talked to those people for an hour,” Grayson hissed at me after I said goodbye for the fifth time.
“They were super nice. Look, she bought me a pretzel.”
“So you’re nice to people because they give you stuff?” he asked.
“Not consciously,” I argued. “It’s just a happy byproduct.”
“Uh-huh. Sounds fishy.”
“Ye who thinks the worst of people. Besides, my roommate’s grandmother gave a guy a blow job for a box of wine, so a free pretzel isn’t so bad.”
Grayson swore.
“It was that expensive stuff that we put in the holiday gift baskets.” I added. “If you’re nice to me, I’ll let you have a bite of my pretzel.”
Grayson narrowed his eyes.
“No blow jobs required,” I teased, holding it out to him.
He reached out, and his fingers brushed the back of my hand. His green eyes didn’t leave mine as he took a neat bite of the pretzel.
Not like me. I had mustard all over my face. My tongue darted out to lick at the tart condiment on the corner of my mouth.
Grayson’s eyes tracked the motion.
“Make every day magical. Happy Saturday!” I called to a group of girls who were determinedly having a boozy picnic with a corgi even though it was, in my view as a Floridian, not at all warm enough to be considered picnic weather.
“No,” Grayson said.
I ignored him as the drunk girls waved us over.
“I love your sunglasses,” one of them squealed, making grabbing motions. “Let me try them on.”
“Selfie!” She pressed her face to mine and snapped photos while Grayson looked on in annoyance.
“I love your boyfriend,” another giggled. “Can I get a selfie of that?”
