The Twisted Story of Ice Cream, Love and Punk Music

Blake stumbled out of her car. It was a drab day in June and the world seemed to be moving at a lulled pace.

14166 Cobblestone Avenue read the address on the lower front panel of the shop.

 Nostalgia slammed into her like a wave. She saw smiling faces, her mom, dad, brothers and sister; they were all there. And then with the tinkle of bells on the door of the shop, they were gone quicker than they arrived.

Blake slowly drifted back to reality and walked into the old ice cream shop. Bridgette's was its name, it had been around for a long time. The Quinn's used to come here on the way to the beach every summer, it was in the neighborhood but it was still their tradition. Unfortunately, days of tradition had been long gone, for approximately three years, and quite frankly, it sucked.

This would be the third summer spent with only her dad and her brothers. Blake lived with him most of the time and now that her mom was recently engaged, she was definitely not interested in going back. Not to mention, Annabelle moved away at the end of the summer and things were really rough right now and she didn't know if she could handle anything else.

"Next!" yelled the lady behind the counter whose named tag said she was Lorelai.

"What can I do for ya?" The woman looked to be in her early 50s, but she had pretty brown eyes and long blonde hair that suggested she was a stunner back in the day.

"Vanilla with rainbow sprinkles in a cone please," she replied, her voice rougher than she meant it to be. As Lorelai walked to get her ice cream, she heard the sound of yelling gradually getting closer.

Three noisy boys emerged from the back of the store, fighting about who knows what.

"Sorry about them," she said as the tallest of the three started yelling again. "They fight like they detest each other but it couldn't be further from the truth."

Lorelai turned in the their direction and cleared her throat, getting their attention easily. "Hey, y'all better go apologize to the customers now! That was completely out of line, boys." They frowned but quickly did as they were told, even so much as to apologize for "acting like immature 3 year olds."

"Alright, now, Graham, you're on dish duty this time, Beckett, you scoop, and Park, you man the register. I'm on break." She took off her apron and motioned toward Blake, "this young lady's cone is on me, boys." With that, Lorelai walked right out into the dreary gray fog, Blake trailing close behind her.

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