The Angels We Love

Everything But Vanilla

I couldn't prevent myself from counting down the seconds on the clock, impatiently waiting for my shift to end. It had been a painfully dull day at the Hawaiian Ice shop in the mall, and I couldn't balme my coworkers for the lack of enthusiasm; it was a rainy Sunday afternoon and anyone who possessed the slightest sliver of common sense would not be purchasing any type of cold concession today, regardless of the low prices and fresh flavors we provided.

Thirty seconds left. I picked at some loose skin next to my thumbnail. I gazed out the window at the gently falling rain, day dreaming about going home to my sweatpants and TV. Less than a minute left and that dream would become reality.

"I'm taking off!" I yelled to my boss, Miranda, who was organizing a new shipment of flavors we used on our Hawaiian Ice in the back room. I heard a grumbled response, but could not decipher the unintellegible words. I began to zip up my navy blue jacket over my embarassing uniform that had a juvenile illusration of penguins enjoying shaved ice on a hot beach. I was happy to be able to go home and take the hideous shirt off.

The bell stationed above the door rang, signaling the entrance of a customer. I focused my attention on the door and the person who had emerged into the undenably cold yet homely shop I worked in. She wore a delicate smile upon her lips, but her eyes were crinkled almost in annoyance- exasperated at some unknown factor that weighed upon her shoulders. Her face was red, as if she had been running. She wore no jacket despte the bitter cold and held crumpled bills in her hand instead of a purse.

Admittedly, I was annoyed that I would have to work for a few more minutes in order to service this girl, but her expression led me to believe that she was having just as a crappy day as I was.

"Hi, welcome to Hawaiian Ice," I said with a faslified smile. "How may I assist you?"

The girl's wide brown eyes scanned the large menu above my head that listed all the flavors. "Uh, I'll have a wedding cake shave ice please." she said. Her voice was lower than most females and sounded strained like she had been yelling too much, but she carried herself well despite her tired appearance.

"Sure thing," I said. "What size?"

"Small."

"Alright," I said, grabbing a small sized styrofoam cup. "And what's the name for the order?"

I felt ridiculous for having asked the question considering she was the only customer present. I hoped she wouldn't notice my obvious discomfort.

"Bella." she said, her eyes once again observing the interior of the shop.

I prepared her ice and poured a decent amount of liquid flavor on it before handing it to her. Our fingers brushed together briefly as I did so.

"Thank you," she said.

"Have a nice day," I said as she opened the door and left.

~

I didn't think much of Bella until she appeared in my shop the next weekend at the exact same time, ordering the same thing as last week. This Sunday was more crowded. The cloudy weather had cleared up and made way for the sun, now hosting a sweltering 90 degree tempeture that was only bearable inside the air conditioned building.

I was about to leave at the end of my shift, happy that I was not working alone today with my complacent employer Miranda, but I had the company of my friends James and Caroline. Caroline was working in the back with Miranda, but James was up front and taking orders with me. I was ready to go home and indulge in some pool side relaxation, but the noise inside the room died down and I became aware of the girl's presence.

Her name escaped my mind until I took her order and she gave me her name. Bella. It was the same girl as last week. Instead of innocently reading the menu with as much focus on last time, I could feel her eyes on my face, as if she was in the process of recognizing me as well. This was nothing significant, I was merely the boy who took her order last week and she was just a pretty girl who liked wedding cake flavored Hawaiian Ice. I stayed a few minutes past the end of my shift in order to make her Ice. Again, I accidentally brushed my fingers against hers as I handed the cup to her, focused on her face as I did so.