Not only were we glutton for punishment, but we were also willing to withstand the cold for ice-cream. Anything for ice-cream. Inside the small Bruster's hut, the lights were crisp and bright. Inside, a few girls were working, mostly concealed by their menus and advertisements. Little bats hung from the red and white striped awning and squishy wall stickers of jack-o-lanterns clung to the glass. The smell of sweet milk made my mouth water.

The girl taking my order had a round face, splattered with freckles. She smiled and asked, "What can I get for you?"

Inside, they were just playing the radio and it cut to a commercial about Friendly Finds grocery store, where I worked because there was absolutely no escape. The girl had a splatter of freckles across her face and I took a deep breath, my anxiety spiking. She was cute and at that moment, I imagined us snuggling on the couch and watching through the catalog of only meager musicals inside my Netflix Queue. I imagined her kissing my neck. I wondered fondly if she came home smelling like ice-cream or sweet waffle cones.

"Um," I wondered aloud, losing my train of thought. Sweat trickled out of my armpits as a tremor of nerves made it hard for me to take my debit card out of my wallet. This girl was probably straight. No matter what, if I met a girl, I assumed she was straight. All girls were straight until proven gay and I was the lone bisexual in the world. Sometimes I glanced at Camille to see if she shared my appreciation. I wondered how other girls saw each other and if it was with the same chest-crushing feeling.

Doubt clouded my thoughts. It said, "You're not gay. You can just appreciate a good-looking person."

I wondered if what everyone told me was the truth, that it was a phase.

Camille shoved me a little. "Just get what you always do."

"Oh, right," I laughed nervously. "One scoop of Cotton Candy Explosion."

"You got it," the girl accepted the order, probably thanking the customer service Gods that she finally wrenched it out of me so she could be done with us and get back on her phone. I didn't blame her, and I wasn't even wearing my lucky socks, these calf-high things that were pink and purple with dozens of fuzzy little balls. I wore those socks to my first Broadway show with my mom. (It was Wicked, by the way). I wore those socks during my first kiss with Andrew Carter, who tasted like sour gummy worms, my favorite candy. I wore those socks when I asked Mrs. Jones if I could do all the costumes for Cinderella this year.

I walked towards the red picnic tables that faced the road and nabbed an empty one farthest away from the family of five. All around us were shopping centers, restaurants, and the odd dentist office or twenty-four-hour gym. It was a bustling night and I glanced at my phone, noticing a text from my dad, asking when I would be home. It was a part of our family group chat that usually consisted of memes found on Facebook. Quickly, Debbie added that they ordered Chinese food in and even got me an order of rangoons. I texted:

Before I knew it, Lizzie was by my side and Camille sat across from us. Camille ate from a waffle cone. She chose a scoop of two different ice-creams, caramel swirl and strawberry cheesecake. Lizzie stabbed her cotton candy explosion with her spoon, digging for the little nuggets of pop rocks. My hand twitched. Suddenly, the urge to nab some of hers set my body on fire. It would taste so good because not only did sharing food drive her crazy, but I knew she would get all hot and bothered. I knew she would smack me and call me an asshole and it was the same thrilling sensation while watching my favorite TV.

"Well, would you look at that?" Camille motioned between our ice-creams. "I'll add that to the list of things you two have in common." Her shoulders wiggled a little in satisfaction. Her ice-cream almost immediately started melting, spilling down her cone and she quickly sucked at the sticky mess.

Lizzie snorted. "That's gotta be the shortest list known to mankind. I'm pretty sure Parker has more in common with that trash can."

The metaphor was not lost on me. I grimaced, feeling my voice rise with every word. "Tell me, Lizzie. Who hurt you? Why do you love sucking the joy out of everything? Let's make this a group therapy session. First one is free."

"God!" she huffed, her preferred language. "I was just being sarcastic!"

"Hey," I raised my hands in surrender, getting a kick out of her neck and ears turning red, "my mistake. The missing posters are still up looking for your funny bone-"

"AAAAAHHHH!" Camille threw her head up and unleashed a terrible gargling yell that attracted the attention of everyone around us and the cars driving by. "You guys are driving me crazy! Can't you do anything else but bicker?"

"Hey!" I perked up and tapped on the table between us. "You can add we like to bicker to your 'Parker and Lizzie' are best forever friends list." Lizzie snickered and dipped into her ice-cream, a real laugh. I had amused her and something inside me ignited. My whole face brightened as I scooted against Lizzie, our knees touching. "Is that laughter I see? Did I crack the code?"

"Well, technically—" She rolled her eyes, even though she was still smiling. Lizzie's teeth were perfectly straight but stained from copious amounts of coffee that no Crest White Strip could save. "—You didn't see me laughing, you heard it-"

"And zip it!" Camille snapped. "Please, you guys were so close."

I chuckled to myself, feeling my phone buzz. Fishing it out of my jacket, I glanced at a few more texts about dinner. Debbie took pictures of gooey cartons of honey sesame chicken as if to entice me home. It reminded me to text my mom, so I sent her a quick update about Patty's Salon still being the bane of my existence and then, I asked about her day. She lived in New York as an Editorial Designer for a fashion magazine. I was all hers during the Holidays, though she usually just joined us at my dad's house. Her family was here too and it wasn't that my parents didn't get along, they just fell out of love and before things got nasty for us all, they split when I was eleven. She chased her dream job and my dad chased the American dream, quickly meeting and marrying again and popping out a boy to carry the Parker name. Win, win, I guessed.

A notification popped up, another picture from EmilybutSpooky. She took a selfie, ironically holding up a peace sign in front of her AP British Literature homework. She commented, "Things are about to get lit-erary up in here!" I snickered at the pun and double-tapped the screen to like it.

"No phones at the dinner table," Camille chirped.

"Okay." I grinned, a thought dawning on me. She asked for this. Getting revved up, I shifted until I was sitting cross-legged on the bench and grinned. "Then, let's talk. I wanna know more about your new secret beau."

While Camille's perfectly winged eyes narrowed into a sharp scowl, Lizzie straightened. "She hasn't talked to you about him either?"

"Oh! So, you are hiding him? That's not very nice to leave us hanging like this. I hate being teased. What is this young man's intention if you're hiding him away?"

"Ah," Lizzie nudged her shoulder against mine, "we agree again."

She had a point. We were getting along too well. I gave in to my urges and took a big scoop out of her ice-cream with a snotty little, "Indeed!"

"Hey!"

"No way," Camille stated firmly. She spoke as if nothing was in theory, everything was the fact. "You're the worst people in the world to talk to about relationships. You have terrible advice and little experience and I'm not going to let you jinx what Billy and I have going on-"

The laugh that flew out of my throat had a mind of its own. "Billy? His name is Billy; you told me his name was William-"

"It is! He goes by Billy!"

"What kind of name is that? Did I fall through time? Are we in the thirties?"

Lizzie spoke through her mouthful of ice-cream. "I hate that Billy is a nickname for William, like who gave you the right?"

"Is he like gonna pick you up with your dad's permission and take you to the sock hop?" I prodded.

Lizzie smiled again. "I actually love that."

"Okay, Ashley," Camille directed at me, but the insult bounced off me, "I think I preferred it when you guys were fighting."

#

The lampposts flickered across the parking lot, illuminating the blacktop. The sun wasn't quite down for a nap, but I could feel the cool sigh of night approaching and shivered. I zipped up my jacket all the way, peering over Camille's shoulder. She popped her car's hood. The smell of gas and oil curdled my stomach acids, forcing me to breathe through my mouth. Camille had everything she needed to survive getting stranded on the side of the road, with jumper cables, a spare tie, a package of water, and a tire iron. She hated looking weak and helpless, making her the most capable person I knew. The maddest I had ever seen Camille was when people asked if she needed help while she was in the middle of helping herself. This ranged from carrying heavy things to changing her car's oil. Camille didn't just "need no man". She didn't need anyone.

She popped the Corolla's hood and connected the two together. "Let's do this." She clapped her hands and I turned towards Lizzie's front seat. Lizzie laid down in the back, snoozing away. Camille said to leave her alone. She could tell her cousin had been crying by her swollen eyes, but I didn't even notice. I didn't want to wake her just because I didn't want to bother with the extra noise.

I turned her car on, letting the engine breathe. Quietly, Lizzie's music began to play from her phone, still connected to the aux cord. The revival cast recording of Hello Dolly was playing, and I smiled, turning the volume up just a smidgen more. Just enough to enjoy the music without waking Lizzie.

I glanced into Camille's car. She had both her fingers crossed with her eyes closed. Whispering a little prayer, she turned on her car that sputtered back to life. "Yes!" She cheered. "It's alive! It's ALIVE!"

With a chuckle, I twisted around, but I stopped before I woke Lizzie up. Her little body was curled in the back seat. Camille took the jacket she borrowed and draped it across Lizzie's frame. Pieces of her dark hair slipped from the braid, eager to curl from the humidity. I never noticed how thick her eyelashes were, but I knew she wasn't wearing any makeup. Her lips were plump too with perfectly pointed Cupid's bows. Her eyebrows were thick, a little scraggly on the sides and I noticed we both got pimples around our chins. She was pretty.

Lizzie Hernandez was pretty.

"Hey," I found myself whispering as I slightly shook Lizzie's shoulder, "wake up, sleeping beauty. The car is fixed."

Lizzie groaned, swatting at my hand. Sleep had grated her voice into a low rasp. Her eyes didn't open but squeezed shut even tighter. First, she grumbled stuff I didn't understand in Spanish, before rambling on in English. "This is the rudest awakening ever. I always thought nightmares were supposed to end when I opened my eyes, so why am I looking at you? Worse than the boogie-man," she grumbled before falling back asleep. All that for just waking up.

Lizzie Hernandez was pretty annoying.

I flicked the middle of her forehead and then dashed out of the car before she could retaliate. Lizzie flew outside the car and preceded to chase me all around the parking lot, until I dove into Camille's car and begged her, "Go! Go! Go!"

My heart must have covered my ribs in bruises at the rate it was beating. Cackling, Camille sped off like a getaway driver towards the road. Climbing into my seat and buckling my seat belt, I rolled down the window and watched Lizzie shake her angry fist to the sky. I leaned halfway outside and waved until we were out of sight, a smile making my face utterly sore.

#

I'm so not used to writing contemporary. lol. I hope I'm using modern tech alright. It's definitely fun to play around with for the first time, haha. This chapter was really fun! We got to learn A LOT more about Parker and her family.

Honestly, I chose Debbie for her Step-Mom because Debbie just sounds SO step-mom sounding, haha. Other writers out there, I'm curious: How do you pick out names? I chose mostly based on the sound, if it matches the character's personality.

So, what did you think about the chapter? Do you think it's a good idea that Parker still likes her ex's posts? What do you think about Parker and Lizzie's bickering? Do you think there's any hope for them?