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“I didn’t know you worked at Starry Scoops.”

The sweet smell of pineapple mixed with coconut fills my nose as I approach the counter.

“Why would ya? We only did one project together.” Thom chuckles, slipping on gloves. “What’ll ya have? Our special at the moment is tropical in winter.”

“What?”

“It’s rather ironic, I know. Ma Pops likes to think he’s a quirky one.”

“Your Pops?”

“Yeah, he owns this place.”

Regret hits me hard. Regret that I didn’t give Thom a chance, didn’t give him the time of day before Laine came along.

“You know what, I’ll take one scoop of the coconut. In a cup, please.”

“Comin’ right up!” Thom purses his lips, scooping my ice cream with far more concentration and meticulousness than necessary.

“So, how long have you guys been running this place?” I ask him as he rings me up.

“Since we immigrated here. Ma Pops works a day shift in retail, so he opened this place in the evenin’ for a bit o’ extra cash. He’s a single one ya know, and we’ve got ma seven younger siblings to support.”

We’ve.He speaks about his siblings like they’re his responsibility, too. How could I have been so blind to think he was ever a threat to Laine? Greyson was right, Thom is a genuinely good guy who was judged too quickly. A victim of high school rumors, if you will.

I give Thom a friendly nod, then head out with my cup ofcoconut ice cream. My friends were wrong about a lot of people, including Laine. They were so close-minded that they convinced me to believe the same contorted ideas they had of people before I even gave those people a chance. Now, especially after letting Laine in, I can’t help but resent them for it, just a little bit.

12

Laine

The following few weeks leading up to the start of the

next semester, Drew and I spent almost every day together and Thom and I intermittently. We do everything off our Christmas activity checklist in preparation for seeing each other significantly less, our bond growing stronger every day as our intimacy borders along blurred lines of something questionably platonic.

I’m not exactly sure what we are, or what that means for me and my identity. All I know is I love being around her, talking to her, our skin constantly touching, and how easy everything feels when I’m with her. I don't care whether we have a label if that means I get to be in her presence every moment I can. To soak in her laughter, her smile, her beauty, her warmth.

These past weeks with Drew play on a loop in my mind. From the time we went ice skating, dragging each other hand in hand along the rink, her laughter I’ve grown to love booming hysterically when my uncoordinated ass inevitably fell on the ice.

From when we built gingerbread houses and hers looked as awful as her pumpkin, though we equated it to my inclination for art, giving me the upper hand for architecture.

From when we went to a holiday photo booth down in Atlanta, dressed up in ridiculous wigs and feather boas, and by the fourth photo, I wanted to kiss her so badly, but the thought of having physical evidence of my feelings for her printed on a tangible strip of ink scared me terribly. I felt exceptionally stupid letting the feeling of fear overtake the multitude of gut-wrenching feelings I felt for her, but ultimately, it got the best of me.

******

My room is a mess, with paint tubes and charcoal pencils splayed across almost every inch of my floor. I scramble around, trying to at least push them all into a corner before Drew gets here. This evening, we’re walking to our playground to stargaze, and although we just saw each other yesterday, I couldn't be happier to spend this evening with her.

When she gets here, she throws her arms around me and I’m wrapped in her warm embrace, I’ve become so comfortable in. We head down toward the playground and stop at Starry Scoops for a snack on the way—and to say hi to Thom, of course.

As soon as we reach the playground, we lay the first blanket on the grass, climb on top, and then crawl under a second blanket for warmth. Our heads are completely underneath the top blanket, giggling as it slowly sinks to fit around our faces.

“How are we going to stargaze with a blanket over our heads?” I ask in between laughs, turning to look at her.

“The stars in the sky pale in comparison to the stars in youreyes,” Drew whispers, my laugh softening into a gentle smile. “Those are the stars I’d rather have steal my gaze.”

The warm, familiar feeling inside comes back as my body goes limp and I melt into her words, taking in the sound of her tender voice. I can barely make out the shape of her face under the blanket, yet I can still feel her eyes burning onto my face, etching her words into my soul like pyrography. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to be beside her tonight.

Drew’s hand moves closer to mine under the blanket, both of us breathing heavily but silently. She interlaces her fingers with mine, and I’m instantly seeing stars inside the folds of my eyelids as I squeeze them shut. Holding my breath, I lay completely still.