shattered bonds

Chapter 4

"ice cream gossip"

The ice cream was slowly melting in our hands, and I always ended up stained because of my careless eating habits.
"So, what flavors are you getting?" Agostine asked as we stood in line.
"Maybe Cookies & Cream and Strawberry?" I replied.
"I want mint with chocolate sprinkles," Eliza said.
"What? Eliza, mint with chocolate is like toothpaste," I said. I respect other people's tastes, but this one was hard to defend, even though I'm not that picky when it comes to food.
"It's horrible," Agostine added.
"Well, says the one who eats pistachio," Eliza defended her choice of ice cream.

We burst into laughter and finally ordered our ice cream cones. The ice cream felt smooth and cold, a beautiful sensation amidst the scorching heat.
"How do you say 'cone' in Spanish?" Sophia asked, showing interest in the language.
"In Argentina, we say 'cucurucho,' but I think in other countries it's 'barquillo'," I replied.
"In Italian, it's 'cono'," Eliza chimed in. Her father and paternal grandparents are from Italy, and she used to go there every year, but this summer she went to Colombia. Eliza speaks Italian fluently and often converses in the language with her father, just like how my mom and I sometimes speak in English.

We got our ice creams and sat at a table to enjoy them peacefully, right beneath a tree that shielded us from the harsh rays of the sun. Sophia almost dropped her entire cone.
"Sophiaaa," Agostine exclaimed, handing her some napkins as we laughed at how ridiculous she looked with her face covered in ice cream and half a chocolate scoop on the ground.

I think one of the things Sophia and I have in common is our "uselessness." Neither of us is particularly good at sports; we don't have any extraordinary talents. Although Sophia seemed to fare slightly better at things, like physical education exercises. Eliza was the perfect athletic girl. Even though she plays hockey, she excels in almost every sport, knows how to play the guitar, and draws beautifully. It seems like she does everything effortlessly, as if she was born talented in every aspect. I know it wasn't like that, but I wish I could be that talented in everything.

I wasn't jealous of Eliza, nor did I like comparing myself to others. Besides, I think I'm pretty smart (depending on the situation). And I don't draw that badly either; I'm actually quite creative. When I feel down, I lie on my bed and start writing poems. I know they're terrible, I don't watch any poetry writing advice videos, but it's fun for me and it helps me express myself. I hate talking too much with someone and ending up sharing intimate things that maybe I didn't wanted to reveal.

"Have you seen Olive? She dyed her hair," exclaimed Sophia, talking about Olive's new look, the annoying and "suicidal" girl, or the girl who was looking for constant attention.
"It looks terrible, and you can even see how greasy it is from a mile away," Agostine commented.
"Well, it could be worse," I added. While Olive's hair may not be visually or tactically pleasing, it doesn't deserve all these criticisms. Eliza laughed at my comment and agreed.
"Olive is trying to be friends with the girls in the freshman year. I don't understand why she's acting all high and mighty," Agostine said.
"In the eighth grade, she didn't have many friends. Most people found her unbearable. Either she insulted them or treated them badly. As long as she doesn't cause trouble, I guess it's fine," I said. I wasn't defending Olive; I actually can't stand her. But it's obvious that she'll make friends with older students if everyone in our grade "hates" her.

"Oh, poor Jo, we should have invited her," Agostine said.
"Yeah, I feel like we've left her out," exclaimed Eliza, who got along well with Josie.
"Well, she doesn't talk much, and whenever we try to include her in projects or anything, she doesn't contribute anything; she just remains silent," Sophia said. She had a normal relationship with Jo.
"Sitting with Josie is quite boring, sorry, but it's true. And it's true that when we work in groups, she doesn't do anything," Agostine said. She was the one who got along best with Jo. They shared musical tastes, so they got along well. My relationship with Josie was good, especially compared to Josie and Milena. They got along, but they didn't talk much, if at all. Milena talks almost all the time about herself, while Jo simply listens.