Ice Cream And Cute Boys

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Welcome to my Sold to a Wolf Pack AU fanfic

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Welcome to my Sold to a Wolf Pack AU fanfic. Just a bit of fun I picked up to calm down from exams. The plot, content and writing are my own. It differs in pretty much every way to the actual series. The names of characters, however, are borrowed from STAWP. This is not relevant to the STAWP storyline and can be read apart from it, like any other fanfic out there. But I advice you read the original STAWP by @miameade because its an awesomely written werewolf series free here on Wattpad.

Enjoy.

***

"Double chocolate chip, with a scoop of vanilla, whiz of raspberry and a chocolate flake!" I grin, handing the customer - a cute six year old girl with two missing front teeth - her diabetes in a pretty, sprinkled cone. "That'll be two dollars fifty please, Ma'am."

I tip my ice-cream cap, giving an exaggerated head bob like I'm Southern Hospitality personified. The little girl giggles, taking the cone and immediately giving it a giant lick. Half the sauce and ice cream stay on her face, blotting her dark skin with an adorable moustache, beard and nose powder. Then she rustles up the change from a barbie purse draped across her torso.

"Thank you, Saffie!" I keep my smile bright as I take the sticky change, put can't help but cringe a little when she sneezes into her ice-cream a moment later... And licks it up, like the snot is flavoured sprinkles. Appetising. After six months of working this cart - which is actually more like a little home - at the local park, you'd think I'd be used to this, but kids always find new ways to make my skin crawl.

I wipe my hand on my apron the second she skips off. Kids are gross. But, if I want to go away with Amaryllis and Jess next month for our 'we survived life' bash, I've gotta make some cash.

My Dad isn't big on giving hand-outs, instead liking me and my brother, Kyle, to pave our own way. 'If you want it, fight for it' is his motto. Well that and 'only satan likes mint ice cream' which, since working this stand, I can totally verify is true.

Dad used to be part of some super-secret defence organisation, which Kyle thinks was an illegal, anti-government underground movement. As such, he's full of tough love and obsessed with, well... fighting. Whether that be MMA at his gym, or fighting for your dreams, or beating up the playground bully who stole my brats doll in fifth grade (Kaitlin totally got what she deserved, by the way) - you gotta fight to survive.

It runs deep in us. My parents fought to be together, their story like a full on movie romance where the rich girl runs off with the mysterious bad boy. Then, when I was six, Mum fought off her assailants in a mugging incident, but lost the fight against death in hospital two days later. Dad kinda derailed for a while then, and I had to step up and look after my baby brother, Kyle.

Alcohol. Beer. Gambling. It was bad.

But he fought off his addictions and totally kicked their ass. Sometimes I have nightmares about what life would be like if he didn't have the will to scrape himself back together, and the picture isn't pretty. It's darn right beastly. So we all do our best to embody the sentiment: Fight till the end. It keeps our family tight and most importantly, individually strong.

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