Couture Caramel

Sam and I waltzed into the frozen yoghurt cafe delightedly. We had an hour or two to spare between chores and errands and we had decided to spend it all bumming around snacking on fro-yo.

"Is that strawberry you're taking?" Sam asked, wrinkling her nose with distaste.

"You're a fine one to talk," I retorted. "You're having the sour original one. What's with that?"

She huffed. "It's actually less sour than strawberry."

I ignored her as I piled on jelly on top of my neat pile of delicious strawberry yoghurt. I hummed contentedly until I heard excited chatter.

"Zaaaar," Sam was saying my name repeatedly. "Zar! Look at this!"

I glanced at the bottle she was shoving at me. Couture caramel or something. Despite myself, I was interested. "I'd like some," I told her, holding my cup of yoghurt out.

"Enough?"

"More."

"Now?"

"More. OKAY STOP."

She upended a large amount on her cup and I paid for our yoghurt using my student ID to get a discount. We sat ourselves down in front of the large flat screen television and watched E! mindlessly. Halfway through my yoghurt, I clutched my stomach.

"Too much caramel," I whimpered.

"I know," Sam whispered back. She looked a little green.

"Gotta force myself to finish this."

She made a sound of agreement that sounded a bit like someone trying to not puke their guts out.

Until now, I will not touch caramel in any form.