Kian

I WANT TO be like him!” Colton exclaims, bouncing in the seat across me.

With his shaggy hair falling near his chestnut eyes, Colton looks down at my phone while taking a spoonful of peppermint ice cream into his mouth.

“Phelps just won another medal!” he cheers, saying this in between bites. He's watching the 2016 Olympics swim recap, cheering on Michael Phelps.

I slouch in my chair and let the warm summer breeze hit my skin. I'm taking a bite out of my ice cream bowl before my attention shifts toward the sound of bike tires.

I spot Kian hopping onto a silver and black bike near the entrance of Bake n’ Roll. He rushingly places a hat over his brown hair and swings his bag over his shoulders. With his black shirt ruffling in the wind, Kian looks straight ahead of him with his lips pressed together. Before I know it, Kian’s breezing pass the bakery and towards the road behind Beasley High.

My attention’s averted when someone waves a hand in my face. It’s Adalyn Olsen.

With her brown hair pulled up in a bun, single strands of hair are tracing the outline of her round face. While Adalyn waves, I notice the chipped nail polish on her fingers. She flashes a wide smile, gripping a bag from Dale’s Diner.

The Diner is located near the Karaoke Lounge, just south of Town Square.

Adalyn’s still smiling, showing a small yellow tooth. “Colton, Bethany, dear, how are you?” She walks a little closer and squeezes my shoulders. She does the same to my brother while he’s licking the last of his ice cream cone.

“I'm good,” Colton says while smiling a toothy grin.

“How’s your summer break going, kiddo?”

“Good, Mrs. Olsen. All I've been doing is watching TV and eating ice cream,” Colton laughs, lifting up what is left of his half-bitten cone.

“That's good! Make sure you get a second cone,” Adalyn smiles before turning to me. “I heard you're working at Jet Industry this summer…how exciting!”

“It’s been slow,” I admit, “but so far everyone's been nice and patient with me.”

“You're interning, right?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’m working in the marketing, customer and event planning department. So far, I've been emailing clients and observing meetings. However,” I laugh, “I've only been there for five days but I think it's going well.”

“That's so exciting!” Adalyn exclaims.

She squints at her watch and gives me a small smile.

“Listen, sweetie, I have to head home,” she says while lifting the bag from Dale’s Diner. “The fries are getting cold and y'know the boys don't like that.”

Adalyn’s twin boys, Jonathan and Giovanni Olsen, are the town’s golden boys. Known for their golden hair and their high cheekbones, all of Beasley know the Olsen boys.

I raise an eyebrow. “How are the twins?”

“Oh, you remember them? They're fine, I guess,” Adalyn snorts. “Since coming home, all they've been doing are,” she pulls up two fingers and continues, “stay in their rooms or go to a friend's house outside of town. I wish they did something here for once.”

From commuting to and from my school, I barely saw the Olsen boys during high school. One day, on my drive home from school, I remember seeing them walking across town, dressed in their gold and white uniforms. I remember my mom telling me about how late they came home because of sports. Towards the end of their high school career, both Jonathan and Giovanni Olsen were some of Beasley High’s 2013 star athletes.

“You should bring them to this year’s Bee’s Festival,” I suggest.

Adalyn’s eyes widen. “Yeah! I should, right? I think they have no choice at this point,” she laughs. “I'm hosting a booth this year and I need all the help I can get. I don’t think Kian can handle the booth all by himself.”

I think about the day I saw Kian at the bakery. The only image in my head is his silver lip ring.

Adalyn says a small goodbye to Colton and me before crossing the street, on her way home.

I look at my ice cream bowl, and what’s left is about half of my vanilla and peanut butter ice cream. I look at Colton and he's snickering.

“You took too long to eat it.” Colton’s taking another bite of my ice cream bowl before shrugging, “I didn't want it to melt and be wasted.”