Blind Acceptance

~Preface~

"What can I get you?" I asked, leaning through the window.

"Do you sell cherries?" the little boy asked, peering up at me.

Does this look like a cherry truck? No, because it's an ice cream truck, I wanted to retort, but instead said, "Yes, we do have cherries; however, I can't sell them to you because they are for the ice cream sundaes."

"Perfect! How much for one?"

"They're not for sale; we need them," I said through clenched teeth.

"Okay... then how much for an ice cream sundae?"

"That will be $2.99."

"Okay... can I get an ice cream sundae with a cherry on top but hold the sundae?"

I ran my hands through my hair furiously. What was wrong with this kid? Rather than chucking a handful of cherries at him like I desperately wanted to, I gave him a fake smile and suggested that I give him the sundae with the cherry on top and he could do whatever he wanted with it. That did the trick and had him skipping away happily. Well, at least one of us was enjoying our weekend.

Eight dollars an hour was far too little for having to drive the Lickety Splitz truck around town. The truck was mint green with a massive neon pink ice cream cone stuck to the roof. It wasn't exactly the "hot ride" that I was aspiring to have my senior year of high school. 

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me..." blared through the speakers as I drove down the streets. I felt like a major pedophile, luring children in with popular Disney songs and delicious frozen treats. What kind of parents would allow their children to get ice cream from a van? Granted, I'm not intimidating in the least, nor do I have ulterior motives, but they don't know that!

Just as I was about to call it a day, someone darted out into the middle of the road. I slammed on the breaks and stopped with a jolt. A boy around my age stood in front of the Lickety Splitz, his hands deep in his jeans pockets and Aviators covering his eyes. He was tall and had short, toffee-colored hair with caramel swirl highlights. Wow, I've spent way too much time selling ice cream. He walked around to my door, one arm outstretched towards the van so that his fingertips brushed its sides as he did so. He was even more gorgeous up close. His jaw was strong and square and he looked muscular, but not beefy. I stopped checking him out and narrowed my eyes at him.

"What the hell? I could've run over you!" 

He scoffed. "Oh yeah, at the high speed of five miles per hour you were going?" he said sarcastically.

"Whatever, I still could've hurt you! Who runs out in front of a truck anyways?" I shouted angrily. 

"A blind person, apparently," he muttered. "Are you bipolar or something? One minute you're checking me out and the next you're flipping out over something stupid."

"I was not checking you out," I lied, embarrassed about being caught. "And you're blind, not incapable. You obviously heard me coming."

I saw the corners of his lips curl upwards as he stepped forward until his elbows rested on the window frame. Hesitantly, he reached a hand towards me chest and, before I could swat it away, landed on my nametag. Thank God my nametag wasn't on the other side of my chest or I would've been groped. I held my breath and watched him apprehensively. He traced the indentations of the letters slowly with his index finger. When he was done with the last letter, he retracted his hand immediately and took a couple steps back, pivoting on his heel.

"I'll see you around, Grace," he called over his shoulder.