Honey | Gini

Six

Gina's POV

We choose the closest town to go to, and almost as soon as we've rolled past the welcome sign, we're in downtown, a single street of shops, all painted in pastel colours like something out of a children's storybook. Wind chimes sound from several angles, making me wonder if that was done on purpose to make the town seem even more surreal, a song in physical form. Nini and I park our bikes at a spiral bike rack that sits in front of a tiny hotel, and she secures them in a bike lock she brought. When she takes off her helmet and clips it to her backpack strap, the shorter pieces of her hair stand up like grass, and she struggles to pat them down. I smile as I reach up to help her out.

"Thanks," she says. 

The violet flower that was in her hair is gone. It probably fell out while riding. Although I knew that would happen, I still wish it had stayed. Nini starts down the sidewalk, and I stroll beside her, an act that should be so natural, but my whole mind is reeling. Every step is being carefully contemplated before going forth, and I find myself overthinking even the slightest things like my hand accidentally bumping hers. Each touch springs my heart up like a trampoline, and when it comes back to rest, I barely have time to even figure out what is wrong with me before it leaps up again. This can't be normal. If this is normal, then it certainly isn't normal for me. 

"Twenty-six flavours," she suddenly reads, nodding at a sign across the street. It sits outside an ice cream shop, beside a large, wooden ice cream cone that sticks out of the lawn. The weather has chipped some of the paint away, but it's still effective at catching the eye, especially Nini's. Her eyes stay on it while we walk, but she doesn't say anything else, leading me to have to ask the question. 

"Do you want to go in there?"

She flashes me a grin then grabs my hand and pulls me across the street. But she lets go when we reach the other side, and it's like filling up a balloon only to pop it a second later. We're the only ones in the store when we enter, and the man behind the case of ice cream tubs smiles with crooked teeth and gums showing. 

"What can I get for you ladies?"

Nini scans the menu above. Even after I'm finished ordering for myself, she's still deciding.

"Need help?" I ask. 

"There's twenty-six flavours, and they don't have plain chocolate." She takes another moment before stepping up to the cashier, saying, "Blackberry, please." 

After she pays, she comes back over to me.

"You like blackberries?" I say. 

She shrugs. "I don't know. I picked at random."

"Well, do you like raspberries?"

"No."

"Then you might not like this."

She frowns. "Oh."

As soon as we get our ice cream cones, Nini licks hers. Her nose scrunches in disgust, and I giggle finding it kind of cute. She lowers the ice cream cone while shaking her head. 

"How is it?" I ask. 

"Not amazing," she replies, her lips still puckered from the sourness. "What flavour did you get?"

"Pistachio."

"Man, I should've gotten that."

Watching her pout is like standing by while a toddler struggles to stand up after tripping. It hurts me too much to see her sad. 

"Do you want to trade?" I offer. 

Her eyes light up in a second. "Would you be okay with that?"