Pocky Afternoon

 

    A small box slammed with the squeak of a thud onto Digby’s desk. A bouquet of chocolate-dipped sticks was placed on the red background. He looked at the box and then the one who put it there as she waited for Digby’s response.
    “Pocky?” Digby asked.
    “It’s Pocky Day,” Paige said, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Let’s play the Pocky game!”
    The Pocky game, as Digby understood it, was a game you played with friends or, in the case of Paige, your significant other. Two players take opposite sides of the stick in their mouth and slowly eat away at it until one of them reaches the center or chickens out, since it’s likely the players would end up kissing.
    Digby took another look at the box. “Nah.”
    “What? Why!”
    “I don’t like the chocolate they use on Pocky. It tastes weird. And I don’t like sweet things that much anyway.”
    Paige’s face fell so hard that Digby swore her Puyo beanie’s jaw dropped, but it was just a trick of the light. After a second, Paige managed to recover and put on a fragile smile. “Oh, um. Okay then.”
    She sauntered away from the desk, Pocky box in hand, leaving Digby with his thoughts. Most of those thoughts, of course, about how he must have screwed something up. Obviously, for some incomprehensible reason, that Pocky game thing must be important to her. Maybe she’s always wanted to try it but was scared of accidentally kissing someone she didn’t like, but she wants to now that they had been dating for a while.
    That must be it.

---

    Digby took a detour before he could reach the woods for his after school nature walk and into the SidewalkMart, particularly the snack section.
    “You run out of honey?” Paige asked, peering over Digby’s shoulder as he perused the shelves.
    “Looking for something.” He frowned, stooping onto his knees to get a better look at the bottom shelves. It wasn’t there. Nor was it in any other aisle he thought it might be. It wasn’t in the next SidewalkMart he checked or the big grocery store.
    Paige followed along on his wandering quest through Primp Town, occasionally voicing curiosity of     Digby’s goal and only being met with unsatisfied grunts in return.
    Digby poked his head into nearly every store in the shopping center, glancing at the goods for sale by the counter, but always came out empty handed.
    Finally, the two stopped outside a certain bakery. Digby looked up at the sign, letting his nerves overrun his body. ‘Clyde’s Comet Cookie Cakery’, an innocuous enough name for a sweet shop. In the window read ‘Today Only! Special Pocky Flavors!’
    Paige was too distracted by Digby to consider the sign. “Digby, are you sure?” She asked.
    Digby nodded and stepped inside, a shock coursing through him as he did. The pair stepped toward the counter, Digby unusually hyper aware of his surroundings. He had to be careful that he wasn’t here.
The counter stood unmanned. Behind it, along with the usual displays of cookies, cakes, muffins, brownies, donuts, and more were an array of Pocky-filled jars with different labels and colors. ‘Chocolate’, of course, but there was also ‘Vanilla’, ‘Strawberry’, ‘Lemon’, ‘Cheesecake’, ‘Soy Sauce’, ‘Wasabi’, ‘Pork’, and ‘Kibbles and Bits’ to name a few.
    The pair leaned over the counter and looked at the selection, Paige still confused as to what exactly Digby was after and why he’d risk running into Clyde. Sure, the baker could come off as a little creepy at times-- like when he saw a group of kids waiting for a late bus in the rain and offered them some cupcakes and a ride to school in his van-- but he had a good heart and she knew Digby knew that too, despite how hard Digby tried to avoid the baker.
    “How about Cherry?” Digby asked, looking at one of the more reigned-in flavors.
    “Cherry what?” Paige asked.
    “Cherry Pocky.”
    Paige turned to her boyfriend. “You said you didn’t like Pocky.”
    “I said I didn’t like the chocolate. Even if the owner’s a creep, he makes good stuff.” He side-eyed the ‘Grilled Salmon’ Pocky. “He’s a bit overconfident, though.”
    “But you said you don’t like sweet things either!”
    “I don’t dislike them too much either.”
    Paige looked down at her feet. “Don’t tell me you’ve been running around all afternoon looking for Pocky you might like just because of me.”
    “You wanted to play the Pocky game. I wanted to make you happy.”
    “You didn’t have to go through all that trouble, though!”
    “Yes I did.” Digby said it so casually it was a matter of fact. It was as if the world declared that Digby needed to look for Pocky he’d enjoy and he unhesitatingly agreed.
    With such a casual authority behind those words, Paige could only ask, “Why?”
    “Because I love you.”
    Paige stopped.
    Her heart stopped, he breathing stopped, she was so shocked that for a brief second she even stopped existing in the same plane of reality as her boyfriend only to return to it just as quickly.
    Sure, Digby had said ‘I love you’ before. They exchanged those words at least once a day. But every time he said it when he’d go out of his way to do something for her, every reminder that he’d put his life on hold to make hers better, every evidence that those words weren’t empty and that he really and truly did love her as more than a friend-- Those were the times she felt herself fall into the deepest pits of love for Digby all over again.
    Digby couldn’t quite grasp all of this, but he at least recognized her blush as she squeaked out, “I love you too.” She coughed into her hand, trying to vanquish the embarrassment before she said, “How about watermelon?”
    A light flickered into existence behind Digby’s eyes. “Sounds good.”
    The pair waited for Clyde or whoever was running the store right now to arrive, chatting over plans for the rest of the afternoon as they did.
    “So how long is this game supposed to take?” Digby asked.
    “Just a minute or two a round I think.”
    “Must be really fun, then. I wouldn’t normally go out and buy something for just a minute of a game.”
    Paige looked over her boyfriend. He wasn’t serious, was he? Did he really think the goal of the Pocky game was to win?
    “Um, Digby,” Paige said, her nervous blush returning, “The Pocky game isn’t really a game. It’s more of, you know, an excuse.”
    “To eat Pocky?” Digby asked, childlike naivety running across his face.
    “What? No! To-- To kiss!” Even so many months into their relationship and after even doing it a dozen or so times, it still gave Paige nerves to even think about it.
    Digby cocked his head. “We don’t need an excuse to kiss. We can do that whenever we want.” He casually leaned toward her and pressed his lips against Paige’s for a brief, fluttering moment before pulling away. “See?”
    Paige shook in place, her face as red and hot as the Chile Pepper Pocky. “I-- I see.”
    Satisfied with his point made, he turned back to the counter. “I don’t think anybody’s back there. Should we get going?”
    “Sure!” Paige turned around and began to lead them out. However, she quickly stopped, turned around, and pulled Digby into a kiss that spanned an eternity in five seconds.
    As Paige let go, Digby asked, “Why’d you do that?”
    “You said it yourself,” Paige smiled, “We don’t need an excuse to kiss.”