Sequins and Somersaults: A Conan Gray Fic

Chocolate Ice Cream and Pumpkin Pie

"Mm, I'm stuffed. But I think I have room for dessert." Conan pats his belly and winks at my mom. "Carol, if you'd bring out the dessert now."

"It's...Abigail...Anyway, we have some pie. Do you like pie?"

"Unless it's savory, I love it. My friend, Ashley, and I like baking pie." Just like the first time Conan mentioned "Ashley", I feel my insides squirm. Who is this girl, and why is he always bringing her up? I begin to wonder if I should break up with Conan (even though we aren't dating yet), but when you love someone you just have to stick by their side through the good and the bad. And Ashley might not even be romantically interested in Conan; although, I have no clue how someone could ever lay eyes on him and not want to have his children.

"Great," My mom begins to stand and head to the kitchen. "Pie is always a safe choice. I've never met a person who doesn't love pie."

"She's clearly never met my mom." Conan huffs.

"Your mom doesn't like pie?" I ask, slightly shocked.

"She likes pie," Conan says. "Who said she didn't? Your mom has just obviously never met my mom before. You haven't even met my mom before. How would your mom have met her?"

I try to nod through my confusion. Sometimes Conan's brain is too big and fast for me to keep up with. Luckily, my mom comes back out of the kitchen holding an apple pie in one hand and a container of vanilla Blue Bell ice cream in the other. She sits into her spot and begins serving the pie and ice cream on dessert plates. She gives Conan his plate first, obviously, since he is our special guest. Our special, beautiful, tan, guest. The only thing in the room that looks better than the apple pie is Conan. I realize that I've been staring straight ahead while dreaming about Conan, and for the millionth time in my life, I thank God that no one besides the government can read my thoughts.

Conan takes an enormous bite of the pie and ice cream. "Mm, sublime." He wipes his mouth and goes back in for another bite. "I love pumpkin, reminds me of fall. Abi, you have outdone yourself."

My mom hands me my pie and turns to Conan. "Oh, it's actually apple, not pumpkin. And it's store bought, but thank you!" She smiles at him and goes back to scooping out my dad's ice cream.

"Well, either way, best pie I've had all week. Well, the only pie I've had all week, but you know what I mean."

I nod my head, totally knowing what he means. It's like when I want something from my mom, so I tell her she's the best mom I've ever had. Really, she's the only mom I've ever had, but it still works every time.

"I'm gonna be honest, chocolate ice cream and apple pie do not sound like something that would be good together, but they are really hitting the spot right now." Conan takes another enormous bite of the pie and vanilla ice cream.

I see my mom open her mouth to correct him, but I cut her off with a glare. I look back to Conan as he takes the last bite of his pie. He pushes his plate and fork off the table; they hit the ground and shatter. My parents' eyes both widen as Conan reaches out and grabs the rest of the pie, biting into it as if it were a sandwich. If I ate like that I would look like an animal. How does he look so good? My brain gets fuzzy as I watch him finish the pie.

"Got anything else?" He looks up at my parents expectantly.

"Oh, sorry," My mom starts. "We only bought one pie."

Conan leans over to me and whispers, "Who invites guests over for dinner and doesn't even think to get dessert?" I giggle and nod my head in agreement.

Conan stands. "Well, I should be going now. I have classes to teach tomorrow and my headlights don't work great so I'd rather get out of here before midnight."

I glance at the clock. It is 7 PM. There is almost no light left outside at this time of year. Then I realized he mentioned headlights. "Wait, didn't you ride a tricycle?"

"Yeah, exactly. The headlights don't work great. Because there are no headlights. How are you confused right now?"

My parents stand up and say goodbye to Conan, and he thanks them for dinner. I smile at his manners. His mama taught him well. He waves to them, then locks his eyes on mine. I try to speak, but my throat is so tight at his attention being on me that I can hardly even breathe. He winks at me, rolls the sleeves of his leotard up, and does eight backflips into the entrance. I hear a photo frame crash and break, and then the sound of splintering wood.

I walk over to the door to see if Conan is gone. The force of his backflips did some serious damage to the brand-new wood, the door split in two with jagged pieces sticking out everywhere. Through the hole in the door, I can see outside. I watch as Conan's silhouette on the small tricycle becomes smaller and smaller as he makes his way down the road. Glancing back at the door, I notice that there is a slight body outline from where he went through. A small smile tugs at my lips. Tonight was a success.

why is abigail so upset about conan calling her by the wrong name, i would pay actual real life money to have him call me the wrong name smh