Slow Beat to the Rhythm

Ice Cream Fixes Everything

"VACATION IS almost over!" Sergio reports from his side of the room.

Michael groans, rolling his body over on his bed to ignore the Latino. The light drifts through the curtains, and unfortunately Michael chose to sleep closest to the window.

"C'mon, we should go get ice cream or whatever. It's our last day!"

"I don't care, Sergio! Leave me alone. You're so annoying."

A few minutes of silence pass by, before Sergio heads out quietly.

Guilt climbs its way into Michael's chest, uncomfortable and heavy. He sits up in his bed, any drowsiness dissipating. He's too stubborn to apologise, but Sergio is a really good friend. Quickly slipping out the door, without fixing his hair or putting on shoes, he calls for Sergio.

The former soccer player ignores him, just pressing the elevator button repeatedly. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'll go get ice cream with you." Sergio shrugs.

Michael doesn't like it when he's in a fight with someone. Mostly he keeps his cool, but when he snaps it takes days before someone listens. "Please, I just need your help with somebody."

"Who is it?" Sergio looks curious, finally looking at him. "Did you meet a girl?"

"No, it's Chance. We're kind of ignoring each other."

Sergio glances at the elevator. "Okay, let's talk. But where are your shoes?"

"In the hotel room. But I don't have the card."

"Damn, you know this elevator takes too long!" Sergio makes a face but hands over his room key. "You better run."

Michael scoffs, taking time to fix his hair, and change his clothes. By the time he's finished and rejoins with Sergio, there's slight annoyance but mostly amusement.

-

"People think I still don't speak Spanish. Story of my life," Sergio sighs. He takes a bite out of his ice cream, evidently a chocolate lover. There's lots of ice cream flavours to choose from, but since Sergio can't try all of them, he settles on mixing Cookies N' Crème with Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough.

Michael sips from his milkshake, momentarily having a brain freeze a while ago, so he's cautious. He isn't quite sure of who will think Serg doesn't speak Spanish, but if he asks, that means he didn't pay attention. "Well, why don't you say something in Spanish to them?"

"I don't know. That's actually a good idea. Maybe some 'Despacito'."

Michael shakes his head, smiling, glancing down at his phone. "Should I text him?"

"Chance, you mean? Don't worry, bro. You guys never really had a fight before, but I know that Chance doesn't hold grudges."

They're at one of the million ice cream shops, which is a quiet place. Some customers come in and go, but the day is sunny—good weather for visiting the park, or jogging. Michael prefers the shade, though. The place is cozy with yellow booths and red tables, the primary colours reminding him of McDonalds.

Sergio tilts his head. "Do you like him?"

"Who?"

"Chance." Sergio's face is unreadable.

Michael has no clue how to respond. Was it obvious? Does Sergio know about him being—?

"It's okay. I'm just wondering. You guys do seem kind of weird with each other anyway."

"I guess . . . yeah. I like him." With the words being said aloud, Michael feels more confident. He does like Chance. A lot, actually.

He can't understand why his stomach get that whoosh feeling, or immediately become so smiley and happy. Is that what love is supposed to be? As mushy as it sounds, he's never felt this way before.

Sergio smiles. "Maybe I can help set you guys up! I'm pretty good with match-making, y'know."

The exhilaration turns to horror. "Don't you even dare."

"Fine." Sergio hums, eating the last scoop of his ice cream. Michael doesn't miss the mischievous gleam in his eyes.