Sequel: Palm Trees ›
Seashells
rainbow sprinkles
August 16th, 2000
Let's start off with the day we met. I was eight years old. The sun was scorching hot and I was just about to leave for the summer. My mother knew how badly I wanted some ice cream, but we only had five minutes to catch our ferry. The line at the only ice cream parlor on the little island was outrageous. I knew there was no possible way to get what I wanted.
"Come on, Cassidy, we have to go," my mother said.
Of course, being just a kid, I simply stared longingly at the window, watching as a teenage girl took an order. I remember my mother tugging on my hand, urging me to go. My dad was already on the ferry along with my brother. She was suppressing the urge to yell at me, I could tell. I ignored her, and it was then that I shifted my eyes from the window to a small picnic table next to the building.
That was when I first saw you. You weren't anything special and in any other situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed you. Except you were holding a giant, delicious cone of ice cream. My favorite kind, too - vanilla with rainbow sprinkles.
I wriggled out of my mom's grasp and skipped over to you. You just looked and me and kept licking the top of your ice cream. I don't blame you though - ice cream is so much more interesting than girls.
"Can I have a bite?" I asked in what I thought was the most adorable voice at the time. (Now that I think of it, it was probably really fucking annoying.)
"Umm... okay," you said, a confused look going over your face. I didn't wait another second. I leaned in right then and there and took the biggest bite my eight-year-old self could handle.
"Thank you," I said, with ice cream still all over my face.
"You're welcome?" you said.
I left without another word, and my mother chastised me for eating a stranger's ice cream. But it didn't matter, I was happy.
And I never even got your name.
Let's start off with the day we met. I was eight years old. The sun was scorching hot and I was just about to leave for the summer. My mother knew how badly I wanted some ice cream, but we only had five minutes to catch our ferry. The line at the only ice cream parlor on the little island was outrageous. I knew there was no possible way to get what I wanted.
"Come on, Cassidy, we have to go," my mother said.
Of course, being just a kid, I simply stared longingly at the window, watching as a teenage girl took an order. I remember my mother tugging on my hand, urging me to go. My dad was already on the ferry along with my brother. She was suppressing the urge to yell at me, I could tell. I ignored her, and it was then that I shifted my eyes from the window to a small picnic table next to the building.
That was when I first saw you. You weren't anything special and in any other situation, I probably wouldn't have noticed you. Except you were holding a giant, delicious cone of ice cream. My favorite kind, too - vanilla with rainbow sprinkles.
I wriggled out of my mom's grasp and skipped over to you. You just looked and me and kept licking the top of your ice cream. I don't blame you though - ice cream is so much more interesting than girls.
"Can I have a bite?" I asked in what I thought was the most adorable voice at the time. (Now that I think of it, it was probably really fucking annoying.)
"Umm... okay," you said, a confused look going over your face. I didn't wait another second. I leaned in right then and there and took the biggest bite my eight-year-old self could handle.
"Thank you," I said, with ice cream still all over my face.
"You're welcome?" you said.
I left without another word, and my mother chastised me for eating a stranger's ice cream. But it didn't matter, I was happy.
And I never even got your name.