The warm summer breeze tousled my hair, whipping it in all directions. I looked over at Olive, who seemed most alive on the moonlit beach. Olive was tan skinned, with long, curly brown hair, freckles, and brown eyes. Tonight she wore baggy, grey-green cargo pants, and a white tank top, complete with no shoes. I'd met Olive at school, and on the first day, she'd let me - a foster kid with no parents - sit at her table of popular kids. But Olive wasn't one of those popular girls who wore layers of makeup for simple events or to school, thinking everyone was below her, acting extremely immature. No, Olive was one of the popular girls because she was funny as hell, and didn't care what people thought of her.
"Haha!" Olive said into the wind. "Beach all to ourselves, biiiiiitches!"
I smiled. Olive was a talker, but tonight she'd been quiet, watching the ocean lap upon the sand by her bare feet. I breathed deeply, tonight was perfect. Just Olive and me, having a girl's night out on the beach, the wind in our face, the ocean splashing at our feet. My foster mother, Maria, had even agreed to lift my curfew, just for tonight.
"You know what I could go for?" I said, taking Olive off guard. I guess she'd gotten used to my silence.
she smiled wryly. "What's that?"
"Some ice cream."
"There's an ice cream shop just offshore, a few miles from here. Race you there."
"Onyourmarkgetsetgo!" I shouted, not leaving any spaces between my words and bolting down the moonlight beach.
Olive was fast, she darted up next to me, saying: "Unfair! just for that I'mma back peddle you all the way there!"
"No!" I laughed, trying to pull her back by the hem of her tank top.
by the time we were there, we were both laughing hard, clutching our stomachs and sides.
"I got sand up my pants!" Olive said, indignantly shaking out the leg of her cargo pants. "How does that even happen?"
"I dunno...But you just proved it..." I giggled.
We walked up to the ice cream parlor door, pushing and shoving each other playfully. The ice cream parlor was cheerily decorated, but the most interesting thing about the place was that the menu was on the tiled floor. Squares of plain pink represented strawberry ice cream, green mint tiles, slabs of light brown and deep, rich browns were for peanut butter and chocolate ice cream. the ice cream parlor was also packed with people.
"Olive!" shouted the employee at the counter, happily.
Olive glanced up from giving me another playful shove and grinned.
"I swear you're a stalker," she said to the boy, bringing me over to the ice cream counter. "Is that, like, your side gig or whatever, do you get paid money to randomly pop up into my life, huh?"
"Maybe I do." He replied, slyly, already retrieving the ice cream scooper from another employee and plopping Olive's favorite type of Ice cream - mint - into a waffle cone.
"Oh, I see how it is. now I'mma call you the ice cream stalker, got that Ice cream stalker?"
We all laughed.
YOU ARE READING
We Are Ophiuchus
Adventure"you've heard of zodiacs, right?" Olive asked, glaring at me with her intense bright red eyes. "I think so..." "so...," She let the word trail off. "Have you heard of an Ophiuchus child?" "what?" "thought so."
