Not Too Cold
“So,” I start. “Strawberry huh?”
“Double scoop please!" I hear Marie tell the bored ice
cream worker behind the stand. The Ice Cream girl has curly blond hair, is an
older teenager and wears way too much eye makeup. She's kinda good looking, but
in that self important way that I hate. She has one hand near her pocket, and I
swear I can see the glow of her cell phone through her apron.
"Right, double scoop of strawberry, and
I'll have ... pistachio? Yeah, pistachio please," I say not nearly as
enthusiastically, reaching into my own pockets to scrap together the few
dollars I have.
"Double scoop also?" the distracted
worker asks in a monotone voice.
"Yeah. Sure."
Marie looks over at me and smiles and grabs my
shoulder and then shakes it intensely, all in like, two seconds.
I'm kind of looking away from her and feel a
little nervous, since we've only been dating for two weeks. Or, wait has it
been three already?
Three weeks. Our relationship is starting to get
serious. After all most kids in middle school only last a few days.
"It's gonna be ten dollars and ... sixty
six cents." The girl is squinting at the cash register, like the numbers
are some foreign language.
I blink though when I hear the cost.
Looking down at the dollars I've assembled into
my hand, I do a quick count and find I'm about a dollar short. Sighing, I place
a hand up to the back of my neck and mumble to my girlfriend, asking if she has
any money. The boy is always supposed to have enough money for the date, just
in case, right? I don't know if I'm doing this right, but I’m pretty sure I’m
not.
Marie though is already shifting through her
light blue purse, moving past her iPhone, makeup and whatever else girls carry
around in their bags to pull out a five dollar bill. It was so crisp and new,
that I swore she was packing an ATM machine in that small purse of hers. She
hands the fin to the cashier, and receives the change.
We get our ice cream in the next few minutes,
and somehow I feel like I've been ripped off, because these scoops are less
than a pathetic snow ball in size. We move into the booth next to the window,
where traffic is screaming past on the road and people walk toward their next
destination to fill their unfulfilled day.
"Here," Marie says with a mouth full,
having taken a bite - not a lick, a bite- out of her ice cream. "Here's
what I owe you."
I blink as I stare at the change.
"What?"
"Yeah, the change, you paid for almost all
of it." She looks slightly disappointed as she says that, but there's
appreciation in her eyes too I think. I guess I did something important. The
boyfriend who bought her the double scoop of strawberry ice cream which I know
is her favorite.
"Thanks," I reply.
"You feel okay? You seem a little
distracted," she says to me.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just
wondering..." But I stop suddenly, realizing that despite the annoying
little traits I keep finding, from the loud cars, to the pieces of gum under our
table and that annoying cashier who stands there all day and doesn't care while
right behind all that ice cream �" all that doesn’t matter too much. Because,
I'm with a good friend whose happy if I just enjoy my desert.
"I mean… I'm thinking, that we should do
this again next week," I tell her. And despite being a little chilly right
now on the inside, my face warms as she smiles back and starts to make plans
for our next date.
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