In Your Dreams

61 || Phoebe Summers

Who knew eating ice cream while watching random documentaries about sea creatures could be so enticing? It's like a strange therapy session, numbing the ache inside me with the freezing sweetness of ice cream while the documentaries distract my thoughts. Basically ice cream therapy with extra steps by adding random documentaries into the session.

My eyes stay glued to the TV screen in my dorm as I scoop another spoonful from my fifth tub of ice cream. It's been an entire afternoon of this—three documentaries and five tubs of ice cream. The tub-to-documentary ratio is oddly close, which feels like some kind of twisted accomplishment.

If only a certain someone who's standing in the middle of the room with her arms on both of her hips while wearing a deep frown could acknowledge this accomplishment of mine instead of scolding me. At this point, I deserve some kind of certificate at least.

"There's no way your plan for today is to sit just here, eat ice cream, and watch..." Lilian trails off as she glances at the TV. Her face scrunches in distaste when a clownfish pops out of its anemone. "Clownfish documentaries."

I frown. "What do you mean?" I gesture toward the screen with my spoon, my gaze never leaving the TV. "This is like Finding Nemo, but realistic." I shovel another spoonful into my mouth, letting the cold sweetness fill the empty spaces inside me.

"Oh, by the way," Lilian mutters, crossing her arms. "Clownfish eat their baby eggs when they think they're infected."

I gasp dramatically, glaring at her as she saunters off to the kitchen. "Spoilers!" I exclaim, watching her closely.

She doesn't answer, rummaging through the fridge instead. When she returns with another tub of ice cream, she plops down beside me, picking up the spare spoon I had on the coffee table—just in case the one I'm using accidentally fell on the ground.

"Why don't you just talk to him?" she asks after a long silence, her eyes now focused on me instead of the screen.

I pause mid-scoop, staring into the tub, watching the melted edges swirl with chunks of cookie. "Why would I?" My voice is quiet, resigned. "From the beginning, we agreed that it's only temporary. That I'm only temporary." I shake my head, my voice feeling heavy in the throat. "And when it's over. It's over. I'm just... following through with what we talked about from the beginning."

The fact that he hadn't said anything about it made it clear that he too was just following what we've talked about in the beginning. My chest aches at our last exchange of words to one another. If only things were different. If he had asked me to stay, I would happily do so.

Lilian sighs, just as a knock echoes from the front door. My head snaps toward the sound, half-wishing I could see through walls. A part of me hopes it's him, even though I know it isn't. He doesn't even know what floor I'm on.

Lilian gets up, throwing me a glance over her shoulder. "I hope you don't mind," she mutters, opening the door. "I called for reinforcements."

Reinforcements?

"It's fine," I mumble, sinking deeper into the couch. "As long as they brought more ice cream."

One by one, our friends file in, all empty-handed. Not a single ice cream tub in sight. Disappointment is slowly filling my chest as they all entered my threshold without carrying anything that resembles an ice cream tub.

"Nope." Jannah shakes her head, scanning the coffee table cluttered with empty tubs. "Lilian said you've had enough." She raises an eyebrow. "How many did you eat?"

I shrug. Honestly? I lost count. I might be on the sixth tub for all I know. So the whole ice cream rub to documentary ratio might have been a lie as well.