“Is it always like this?” I asked as we got in line.
“Pretty much.”
“Huh. We used to go to Holly Hop,” I said before I thought better of it.
He froze momentarily, and then the tension disappeared. “Holly Hop is all the rage. Probably still my favorite ice cream in town, but Braum’s is open later, and their ice cream is affordable.”
“Hence the high school crowd.”
“Yep.”
The frenzied worker stepped up to the counter. “Has someone helped you?”
“No. I’ll take a single scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough in a waffle cone.”
“Got it.” She looked to Isaac. “And you?”
“A scoop of chocolate-toffee and chocolate-chunk chocolate cheesecake in a chocolate waffle cone.”
The woman dashed away to prepare our orders. I couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“You didn’t want pizza, but you ordered that?”
“Hey, ice cream is always a good idea.”
“Confirmed,” I said with another laugh.
I hadn’t laughed like this in…years. I had friends in the city and, of course, all the women that I danced with, who I loved. We had a good time, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t Isaac.
“Plus, chocolate is the flavor of life. Aly inherited that gene from me, I’m afraid. When we come here, she always ends up with chocolate smeared all over her face.”
I giggled. “I could see that. She seems like a precocious kid.”
“You have no idea.” He glanced away. “Sorry to keep bringing her up. I’m sure that’s not—”
“Hey, don’t do that. I haven’t seen you in sixteen years. If you didn’t talk about your kid, I’d think there was something wrong with you.”
Isaac nodded thoughtfully and then took the ice cream offered. He stepped forward to pay, but I got in front of him.
“I can get mine,” I said quickly.
I didn’t want him to think this was a…date. Or anything. He didn’t have to pay for me.
But he scooted me to the side with an eye roll. “It’s three dollars, Pey. I think I can handle it.”
I opened my mouth to object, but he’d already tapped his credit card. And that was that. Well, all right then.
We took our ice cream to the very back of the restaurant, farthest away from the crowd of rowdy teenagers. Another family seemed to have the same idea. They sat in silence against the windows as “Last Christmas” finished playing, and the Pentatonix version of “Hallelujah” trickled in through the speakers.
I nibbled on my cone as Isaac devoured his. It felt strangely reminiscent of old times.
Ice cream had been our first “date.” We’d both been freshman in high school. The very first week of school, Isaac approached me and asked me if I wanted to get ice cream. We’d gone to different middle schools, and I had no idea who he was. But he did it in front of all of my friends, and I was too embarrassed to say no. Who was this kid with this much self-confidence?
Well, it had turned out to be a dare. Not that it made the ice cream date any less wonderful.
Our parents had dropped us off at Holly Hop that weekend, and he insisted on paying. We got to know each other and found that we had a lot in common. We liked the same TV shows, we read the same novels, we both had athletic aspirations, and, well, he was really cute. Monday, when we got back to school and I found out the whole thing had been a joke, I cried in the girls’ bathroom and vowed never to date again.
We all know how well that went. He’d sent a letter that said he was really sorry and asked if I’d be his girlfriend with little squares underneath it to check yes or no. I’d checked yes…and the rest was history.
“So, what happened with your soccer career? I know that you wanted to play professionally. I’m not on social media or anything, so I haven’t kept up with anyone’s life.”
I didn’t say that I’d avoided his life in particular. Thinking of him after I’d left was too hard.
“Well, not much to tell, honestly,” he said after he finished his bite of ice cream. “I went to SMU for two years on scholarship. The first year, I loved it. I was getting recognized by scouts for the MLS, and I even spoke to a training group for Barcelona.” He shrugged. “But then SMU got a new coach for my sophomore year, and we…didn’t see eye to eye.”
“Ugh!”
“Yeah. He stopped starting me. My prospects dwindled. It was a year of turmoil and so…I left. I couldn’t stick around and be hamstrung by a coach who had killed my chance at doing this full-time. I transferred into Tech and played on their club team. It wasn’t the same, but I got my degree, and I work for Wright now.”
“Wow. I’m so sorry, Isaac.”
He waved me away. “That was a long time ago. I’m fine with it now. If I’d taken a different path, then I might not have Aly, and she’s my life.”