Still not into you - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,54

the Santa Monica Mountains, and eating outside multiple times a day. I think that’s probably what I’ve missed most about California. Eating outside is an important part of the culture here. Almost all restaurants and coffee shops have outside areas to eat. Some have simple awnings. Others have elaborate tables, closed off porches, and heating lamps. There’s no shortage of them in the Commons area near my parents’ home.

There’s something magical about eating outside under the bright blue sky and the sunlight. The food tastes different, too. Everything has more flavor. Every kernel is somehow more delicious. Over the last few weeks, I’ve been stuffing myself with every greasy thing that came my way. Oily French fries. Hamburgers glistening in fat. Pizza with different types of shiny cheese. There is something about the bleakness and the darkness of New York at this time of year that made me want to eat every unhealthy thing that any vendor or restaurant within walking distance of my dorm would offer. So I gorged myself, all in an effort to make the darkness go away. Of course, I was unsuccessful.

Here, under the high sky, which is so high that it looks like not even a rocket could reach it, I suddenly feel free. I don’t want grease or fat or oil. No, now I crave something healthy. Something green, definitely organic, and absolutely refreshing. Looking back on the week, the only things I seemed to have eaten all week are fruits and vegetables in a million different ways—smoothies, salads, fresh from the little containers from the farmers market. Just this morning, I had one of my mom’s famous green smoothies, which taste amazing by the way, and five juicy strawberries as big as my palm.

“Are you sure these are organic?” I ask. My mom is a stickler for organic produce. She would be horrified to know what I’ve been living on for the last two months. My mom believes that the body is like a machine. So, in order to have a healthy mind and body, you have to power it on healthy foods.

“Yes, of course. Why?” she asks, taking a big bite.

She’s splurging today, apparently. She made homemade whipped cream—something she never does when my sisters and I aren’t home—and we are covering each strawberry that we stuff into our mouths with a generous amount of it.

“I don’t know,” I say, laughing. “These strawberries are just so huge. I thought that they just had to be zapped with something.”

“Well, I got them from Clara at the farmers market on Saturday. She has the most delicious berries.”

“Oh, you’re just saying that because she’s young and is a farmer and you admire anyone who can grow their food.”

“Of course I do! In today’s day and age, what’s more miraculous and uncommon than that?”

I smile, taking another bite. The whipped cream melts in my mouth and cuts the tartness of the strawberry perfectly.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving already,” my mom says wistfully. “I miss you already.”

“I know. The week just flew by, but I’ll be back in two months. For good.”

“For good?” my mom asks.

I think about that for a second.

“Well, I meant the summer,” I say.

“And then?” she asks. “Have you given some thought to what I’d said?”

“Yes.” I nod. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t really have a good reason for leaving New York except that I want to, but I’m not completely decided yet.”

My mom smiles and tosses her hair. She has such an easy and effervescent quality to her. She’s absolutely gorgeous, but it looks like she doesn’t even know it. I just hope that in the future, I’m half the put together and confident woman that she is. In fact, it would help a lot if I were that woman already. Then I’d have a lot fewer problems, that’s for sure.

My flight is in a few hours and I go to my room to pack. Wistfully, I put away all the clothes that I don’t need back into my closet. It’s been wonderful wearing all of these tank tops, light, long sleeved shirts, shorts, and capri pants for the week. I must’ve changed my outfits three times a day just to take advantage of all the clothes that I could wear here that I can’t wear in New York. I put away my flats and flip-flops and drag out the Ugg boots that I’ll be traveling in. I’ve had these Uggs since last year, so they are technically my California Uggs,