Perspective

19- It's not Ice cream

"This is really good ice cream," I say.

"Gelato. Not ice cream," Asher corrects me for the 5th time.

I smirk. "I love the way this ice cream tastes."

Asher groans and drops his head into his hands. "Chase. It's gelato."

"Same thing," I tease.

"Oh hell no. You did not just say that, Chase Ryder." Asher snaps his head up.

"Teach me the difference, Mr.Bradley," I challenge.

"Well...gelato has less cream and more milk."

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. "Isn't gelato the Italian word for ice cream?"

"Well...yes."

"So I've been right this entire time when I referred to it as ice cream?"

Asher lets out a defeated sigh. "Technically...yes."

I flip my hair over my shoulder and give him a satisfied smirk. "I knew I was right."

"You're killing me, Chase," He teases.

"That's my goal in life."

"You have a life? Wow!"

I flip him off and finish my gelato.

"Do you want to do something else or should we just go back home?" Asher asks.

"Let's just go back, I'm already tired."

"I was hoping you'd say that. I'm fucking exhausted," Asher says.

"Can I drive the Vespa?" I ask excitedly.

Asher stands up. "Do you know how?"

"Of course I do! I drove them all the time in India."

"Okay then, go ahead."

I pull my phone out and attach my headphones to it so I can hear my GPS.

I happily run over to the Vespa and put on one of the helmets.

"Keys," I hold my hand out.

Asher drops the keys in my hand and takes the other helmet.

I kick off the stand and stand over the seat before turning on the engine.

A soft roar emerges from the Vespa.

"Get on," I say to Asher.

We sit on it and I twist the handles.

"You might want to hold on to me," I suggest.

"No, it's okay. I'll hold on to the thing in the back—AHHHH"

I smirk as I drive down the empty street.

"Slow down!" Asher pleads, clutching to me.