Saturday Night School Ch. 09

When she turned the corner, still in her grey shirt and now carrying a giant hot fudge sundae, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. She brought two spoons and offered him one before she set the sundae down on the table. She slid into the seat, moving until she was close enough that he could smell her perfume, moving still closer until her side touched his.

Sharing an ice cream sundae. It was almost a cliché. A Norman Rockwell painting. Young love, taking turns spooning scoops of ice cream. Am I your boyfriend? He sent the thought in her direction, unable to speak it out loud. Are we together? Is this love? And if it isn't, then what is it?

He couldn't speak the words. Maybe it didn't matter. Just as long as she was with him. He took another spoonful of ice cream.