Sequel: Palm Trees ›
Seashells
and then you smiled
August 17th, 2001
That summer seemed to end quickly. After the fourth of July, I didn't really see you much. Of course, we were barely even friends, so that was expected. It was kind of just like those awkward relationships that you have with distant cousins - you didn't hate each other, but you only talk because your parents knew each other.
It was time again to return home, my family to Ohio and yours to New York. I knew I probably wouldn't talk to you until next summer, but that was okay. It wasn't like my life only existed on the island. I had friends back home, and I nearly forgot everything that happened on the island until we went back in the summer. So it wasn't a big deal, leaving.
This year was nice though, since my mom didn't want a repeat of last year. We were early to get to our ferry and with that extra time, my mom took me to get ice cream.
When we got there, you were already there. I wondered if you ever left that place. And just like usual, you were eating ice cream. I had seen you there a few times over the summer, and every single time you were eating an ice cream cone. And every time, it was always a different flavor.
But this time, you were holding a cone of vanilla ice cream. And it was topped with - you guessed it - rainbow sprinkles.
"Hi Cassidy," you said as my mom and I walked up to the window. "Look what I have."
"My favorite ice cream," I said.
"The kind I had last year," you said.
The guy behind the window took our money (sadly, your cousin wasn't working that shift) and then gave me my ice cream. It was the same as yours.
"It can be like a tradition," you said. And then you smiled.
That summer seemed to end quickly. After the fourth of July, I didn't really see you much. Of course, we were barely even friends, so that was expected. It was kind of just like those awkward relationships that you have with distant cousins - you didn't hate each other, but you only talk because your parents knew each other.
It was time again to return home, my family to Ohio and yours to New York. I knew I probably wouldn't talk to you until next summer, but that was okay. It wasn't like my life only existed on the island. I had friends back home, and I nearly forgot everything that happened on the island until we went back in the summer. So it wasn't a big deal, leaving.
This year was nice though, since my mom didn't want a repeat of last year. We were early to get to our ferry and with that extra time, my mom took me to get ice cream.
When we got there, you were already there. I wondered if you ever left that place. And just like usual, you were eating ice cream. I had seen you there a few times over the summer, and every single time you were eating an ice cream cone. And every time, it was always a different flavor.
But this time, you were holding a cone of vanilla ice cream. And it was topped with - you guessed it - rainbow sprinkles.
"Hi Cassidy," you said as my mom and I walked up to the window. "Look what I have."
"My favorite ice cream," I said.
"The kind I had last year," you said.
The guy behind the window took our money (sadly, your cousin wasn't working that shift) and then gave me my ice cream. It was the same as yours.
"It can be like a tradition," you said. And then you smiled.