INTO THE APPLE

. Her ass was in the apple. If there's one thing I'm certain of, it's that her ass was in the apple. I stood only ten meters away from her while she bent over a dropped pen. It was at university; that's where I saw her most often. I stared like an idiot at her pert, gorgeous ass and smiled to myself, thinking about... well, never mind. Then Paweł approached me; a snowman-shaped classmate who always reeked of cigarettes or alcohol, and one of the few people you could talk to about anything beyond politics and economics.

"And what are you staring at?"

I nodded at the object of my desire and waited for a reaction.

"Nice ass," he remarked. "It's just a shame it was in the shape of a pear... I prefer the apple-shaped ones."

"She's in the apple-shaped one, after all."

"What are you talking about, that's a typical pear." Paweł had an uncanny ability to evoke various situations or things that always helped him in his discussions. "Look at that chick over there," he pointed to a busty blonde I'd never seen before, "that's a typical apple-shaped chick, and yours is a pear-shaped chick. You can't fool me."

I looked at him in disbelief and looked at the girl again. To me, she still had an apple-shaped ass.

"What do you know... That's a typical apple.

" "THAT'S a typical apple," he pointed at the busty blonde again

. "Okay, let's say not a typical apple, but also an apple.

" "Pear-shaped."

I waved my hand and scoffed. Seeing this, Paweł called Radek over, a skinny stick figure with glasses, and showed him the blonde, and then the other one, whose ass shape we were trying to determine.

"See those two chicks?

" "I see," Radek confirmed.

"So which one has a pear-shaped ass, and which one has an apple-shaped ass?

" "This one has an apple-shaped ass, and Marta has a pear-shaped ass."

"Marta?" I asked, surprised

. "Marta. That's her name.

" "How do you know?

" "She's in my group," Radek adjusted his glasses. "It's a pear, but a very nice pear."

I'd had enough; I felt like someone was suddenly trying to convince me that an orange isn't orange at all, or that a square doesn't have equal diagonals. I think I can still tell an apple from a pear!" Then Paweł, seeing that he hadn't convinced me yet, started looking around the hallway. He walked up to a guy who was taking a pear out of his bag and borrowed it from him. If I needed a pear, no one would have one, and even if I did, it would only be a misshapen one. Paweł handed me the pear and said,

"See for yourself."

I looked at him warily for a moment, then took the pear and positioned it so it obscured Marta. The two shapes didn't blend together at all; Marta's hips jutted out slightly beyond the pear.

"Okay, well, see for yourself."

I handed the pear to Paweł. He closed one eye, grimacing as if he were eating a lemon or drinking spirits. He stared at it for a moment, then nodded.

"It's a pear. A pear, by the way.

" "But it's a nice pear," Radek interjected. "If you want, I can introduce you to it. Tomorrow we're going to Pinocchio's, Marta will definitely come too."

It was an interesting proposition, and also a chance to change the subject. A chance I took, postponing the argument to an indefinite future.

For me, Marta was still a chick with an apple-shaped butt.

***

Pinocchio's is a student club where you can meet practically anyone from your university. This is both a big plus and a problem, as sometimes I'd rather my antics be forgotten.

It was crowded, it was hard to get to the bar, but I finally made it. When I ordered a beer, I hadn't planned anything yet; I wasn't even sure I'd see her there at all. That's when she sat down next to me; out of habit, I eyed her, but when I realized it was Marta, I lost a bit of confidence.

"Hey," I said

. "Hi. You're from the same department as me, right?"

I nodded

. "I saw you yesterday. You were staring at my ass."

I won't go into further details; I'd have to reveal my super-secret techniques for picking up girls... Although, truth be told, I think she was the one who hit on me.

Anyway, we ended up in a booth, in one of the nooks and crannies of the place designed for guys like us, or by accident. We kissed almost lying on the seats, my hands wandering everywhere. And a little wandering where they shouldn't, they finally landed on the desired butt.

After forgetting myself and holding my hands on those magnificent curves for a long time, she pulled her lips away from mine. I wasn't sure why, so I looked at her face. She was happy, smiling, and looking into my eyes.

"You like my butt, don't you?

" "Yes," I said, thinking it would be a good idea to say something nice about it, as she was clearly proud of her curves. "You have the most beautiful pear-shaped butt I've ever seen."

And that was it. Suddenly, she went cold, her face petrified, and her smile went to beer. Or not; it went to cheap Mustak wine.

"Pear-shaped?" Her voice was icy; clearly, she hadn't been on Mustak yet. "You're fucking pear-shaped yourself, I have an apple-shaped butt."

She stood up, straightened her clothes, and walked away. I don't know where, but definitely not to the nearest liquor store for Mustak. How do I know? Because I did.

***

On my way home, I was wondering why the hell I'd told her she was a pear… Besides her, I was the only one in the entire world who knew her ass was an apple. It was a disaster.

The next day, I met Paweł in the hallway at my university. He was lost in thought, and it was clear he was pondering something really serious. He held an apple in his hand, and his gaze was clearly trained on Marta. I walked over and said hello, exuding an aura of alcohol in the form of an unpleasant odor, which, however, didn't bother Paweł in the slightest.

"You know what, I think you were right. She really does have an apple as her ass," he said, handing me the fruit. "See for yourself...

" "Fuck off," I said, and dispassionately sank my teeth into the apple.

THE END