Capítulo 5: Chapter 5
It smells sweet, it smells cold, if that even makes sense. I look through the glass at the colorful tubs. Jordan stands next to me, looking at all the toppings and different cones. It all looks amazing, I haven't had an ice cream since Maria moved away two years ago.
My purse, however, is reminding me why I haven't had ice cream. My wallet is like dead weight on my hip. It is dead, lifeless, empty. I should make some excuse to leave, say I need some air or something. I don't want to ruin his fun.
"Which one do you want?" His crooked grin shines down on me.
"Oh, um," I start pulling at my fingers. I don't want to lie but I'm so embarrassed that I don't have any money, "I'm ok, I don't need any."
He raises his eyebrow, "Come on, I'll pay. This is really good ice cream," He sighs and leans down next to my ear, "You don't have to pretend with me. I don't mind paying, I don't care if you have money or not. I know things are rough for you, I know your money isn't spent willy-nilly."
Biting my inner cheek I avoid eye contact with him as he stands up straight again. Silently, I remind myself not to cry. I'm probably making a fool of myself, and am embarrassing him. I shouldn't have come.
"Really it's no big deal, I'm fi--"
"What's your favorite flavor?" He puts his hands in his pocket. He watches me intently, his eyes curious as he head cocks to the side and the tips of his mouth turn up.
"Neapolitan" I whisper, my index finger is hurting from my pulling on it.
He nods and his smile grows, "One single scoop of neapolitan in a sugar cone and one cookies and cream single scoop in a cup with Nutella sauce and a waffle cone broken up in it, please," He smiles politely at the guy behind the counter even though the guy is giving him a weird look.
I watch as our ice cream is scooped and prepared. The scooper guy gives Jordan a funny look as he breaks up a waffle cone. Jordan walks over to the register while I grab our ice creams, he hands some money to a girl around our age and places another bill in the tip jar. Upon inspection I see it was a twenty, I suddenly feel uncomfortable.
Together we walk back out into the blinding sun. Jordan finds a small table nearby and pulls a chair out for me, I smooth my skirt and take the seat. He puts himself across from me and starts eating his ice cream like nachos. I stare at my cone, watching a little of it slide down the side.
"I figured you would have picked mint chip," His smile fades as he forces conversion, "It's hard to go wrong with neapolitan though, it's one of my favorites."
I keep staring at the cone. This cone cost $4.37 with tax, not even a quarter of the tip he left. The cost of this cone didn't even cover my tips for a week. My mind starts drifting; how much did the clothes he got me cost, how long could we have a friendship before he got tired of paying for everything, its embarrassing to not even $5 for an ice cream.
My thoughts derail as I feel warmth envelope my hand, "Rhea? What's wrong?"
"You tipped $20 like it was nothing, like it was just a quarter off the street. I can't even have $5 in cash on me. I don't know why I'm here, I'm so out of place. I'm sorry, I don't, I can't... I just..."
He leaves his seat and ice cream to come kneel next to me, his eyebrows raised and lips parted as he stares at me, "Rhea, I tip that much because my dad all but hands me wads of cash on the daily. I tip that much because my $20 will be divided among all those employees and I want to maximize how much they each get. I don't care about money but I'm not careless or oblivious. I don't want you think I'm a tool like my dad who throws money around for no reason. If the money makes you uncomfortable I'll try to be aware and dial it back. Please, breathe, don't think anymore. Don't think about money, or your dad, or school. Detach and enjoy your ice cream. Just this once, let yourself let go. You're safe with me, in every way."
He puts his hands over mine which still hold my cone. Slowly he stands and helps me to stand too. Hesitating for a moment, he pulls away to get his ice cream and loops his arm through mine.
"What are you doing?" I breath out.
"I'm getting you moving. I'm trying to give you something else to think about, like the stuff around us. Why is neapolitan your favorite?"
I close my eyes and let him guide me down the road, "It was something my family did. We'd go out for ice cream every weekend, no exceptions, and for a long time none of us would ever know what to decide. My dad was the only one who knew what he wanted, neapolitan. He said it was the best because it was three flavored for the price of one, three times more fun. My mom and I tried it and from then on it was my favorite."
I can feel him smiling down on me even with my eyes closed. Stopping him, I stand still and slowly bring the ice cream to my lips. I try to force away thoughts of money, of school, and my impending doom at home. I force away the memories of my mom being sick and all the injuries I've hidden. I don't force them far away, but far enough to where I finally feel joy when I feel the cold, sweet sensation hit my lips and tongue. I let out a giggle.
While it feels alien, I start giggling gently as I open my eyes and take it the treat. It's melted a bit and covered my fingers, but I don't care. Where most would feel awkward and embarrassed, I revel in the fact my lips are coated in chocolate and strawberry ice cream.
I see Jordan smile down at me. He gently pulls me down the street again, and together we talk about all the shops and museums and galleries. I'm still hesitant to speak much, but I'm trying, and trying feels really good.
"Do you want to catch a movie?" He steps in front of me, walking backwards so he can still face me, "There's a theater near by and I'm dying for some popcorn. You can pick the movie."
I nod as I bite into the crunchy cone, it's always the best part. I decide to let him do most of the talking for now, he's better at it and I'm still struggling to find the courage to speak. A movie will be good, dark with no talking. Why Jordan insists on walking, though, is beyond me.
Arriving at the theater I see posters for all types of movies, although I can't tell what any of them are. Jordan tells me about the trailers, and points out what he thinks looks good. I see a movie name on the board that starts in twenty minutes, it's a cartoon kids movie but it looks good. It looks magical. Jordan explains that it's about two brothers who live in a magical realm and want to go on a quest together. It seems nice, and I understand their need to go find something greater.
Jordan gets us snacks, insisting on buying more than any sane person could eat. I carry two very large sodas while he carries popcorn in one arm and a bunch of candy in his other arm and pockets.
"Look on the bright side, you can take the stuff we don't eat home, the thought of a fellow teenager without sugar," He fakes a dramatic gasp, winning a small smile from me, "It's a tragedy."
I follow him to the seats he's chosen, listening to him swear up and down that they are the best seats possible. He hands me a long, red piece of candy and wiggles it in front of me until I take it.
"I think you'll like Twizzlers, they're a good stress candy. Easy to futz with. If you want your mind blown," He pulls out his own piece, "Take a bite off each end and use it as a straw in your soda. It's great!"
He's trying really hard to make this fun and easy for me. It feels good, it makes me feel special. He keeps talking and joking, but for a moment I'm not hearing him I'm lost in his infectious joy.
I humor him and try the silly straw trick. I won't lie, it was great, not practical long term but it was fun and tasted good.
Once the previews and advertisements come on, Jordan quiets down, saying he doesn't want to ruin the movie experience for me. Together we spend the next two hours staring at a screen and shoving our faces with fake butter and colored sugar. The only time either of us move is to get more soda or popcorn.
My legs hurt when I stand again, and my legs are almost so cold they're numb. Jordan leaves me by the door to our theater while he throws away our trash. As we were leaving he buys another thing of Twizzlers for me to take home.
He slowly guides me from the theater and back in the direction of the car, the sun is getting low but hasn't set. I don't want to go home until I'm sure my father is asleep.
"Ca--" I cut myself off, a little too late as I've already grabbed Jordan's attention.
"Yeah?"
"Can we stay a bit longer? I... I don't want to go home yet."
He nods solemnly and we keep walking. We go through shops and a couple art galleries and let the time fly. By the time we're leaving our last gallery, the sun has almost finished setting and the last hints of pink and orange are leaving the sky.
Jordan keeps talking, keeping my attention. I don't even notice the man walking towards us, looking on his phone. Clearly he didn't see us either as he slams his shoulder into me as we pass each other.
I'm so caught off guard that I fall back onto the ground. The man stops, stunned and stares at me. No one says anything for a few moments. Jordan slowly helps me to stand. Once he's sure I'm steady on my feet, he lets go of me and balls his fists.
"I'm so sorry," I mumble, barely audible.
Jordan flips out. Before I know it, the guy is pinned to a nearby wall, shaking as Jordan holds him in place. I'm frozen where I stand, my only movement is shaking.
"What the hell man?" The guy yells as he pushes against Jordan's grip.
"What's your problem? Running into people like that?" His voice is heavy and angry, so rough it sends chills down my spine.
"It was an accident! Chill out, put me down damn it!"
Jordan pushes him further against the wall, "Apologize asshole!"
The guy flinches, raising his hands to his face, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to I swear!"
Jordan drops him and adjusts his jacket. The guy takes off down the street, not looking back. Jordan comes back over to me.
"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" I flinch when he reaches out to touch my arm, "Rhea?"
"I'm ok, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause trouble," my voice shakes.
"You didn't do anything," he tries to pull me close to him and I panic, I let out a quick squeal and drop to the ground. It takes him a moment to connect the dots, "Oh shit. Rhea, I'm so sorry. I didn't think, I'm sorry, I won't hurt you. I'm sorry."
He slowly calms me down and takes me to a nearby park where he pushes me on the swing until I'm not crying. He sits on the swing next to me.
"I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to freak out and scare you," He apologizes again.
"It's ok, really. I know you meant well," I push away the last tear.
He doesn't look convinced. We lightly swing in silence. I lose myself looking at the stars.
"Fuck," Jordan's husky voice pulls my attention, I look up to his eyes searching me desperately, "You are so damn beautiful."
I don't have time to form a response before I feel his hands cup my face and his lips smash against mine. I freeze as his warm lips engulf and tug on my own. My entire being heats up.
It takes me a moment to register I'm pulling him closer.
I kiss him back.
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