Log 002

“You slapped yourself when I sobbed over a fallen ice cream.”

 

 

{ 10 years ago }

 

I skipped hand-in-hand with my two best friends: Jimin and Taehyung. Their arms swung with mine, trying hard to swing me into the air like a bird ー failing with their combined strength. The other two boys - Jungkook and Jin - walked behind us in their own discussion of videogames that I didn’t understand.

 

The five of us finished eating three servings of tteokbokki from our favorite food stall, Just Eat. Halmeoni treated me like her little granddaughter and gave me extras, making sure the boys didn’t steal from me. She embarrassed me and talked to the boys and how they should treat me. Like always. Even though it was unnecessary and uncomfortable sitting in the hot seat, I liked her. She was always happy and go lucky around me.

 

We walked to ‘Happy Ice Cream’ for desserts, stomachs unsatisfied with the large amounts of carbohydrates. The walk was pretty short, only a mere six minutes from the stall. It was almost a daily trip to get desserts every Saturday, even though everyone couldn’t make it. Some days it was two people or everybody, I somehow haven’t missed any trips. Mom pushed me out and wanted me out of the house more than I did. At least I enjoyed the company I was with, leaving my door with a smile on my face. This way I didn’t worry mom nor did I have to lie that it’s okay for me to be out.

 

The tiny, golden bell rang above my head when I entered the store. I removed my hands from both boys, scramming to look at the menu board with big eyes. The boys chuckled at my action before standing next to me to order their flavors. My eyes scanned the words for a new flavor to try, a deal I made with the boys two months ago. They mentioned how picky I was with food, and I was annoyed and angry at my flaw so I told them I could eat anything once. It was a stupid deal because I disliked some of the flavors I had to purchase or the boys did for me. One thing I didn’t know I had in myself was that I disliked the bitter taste of having my pride put down.

 

I had already finished three-fourths of the flavors listed in chalk, leaving sad choices behind to decide from. Only a couple more than I’m done! I nodded to myself, daydreaming about my favorite flavor I couldn’t get until my deal was done. I didn’t want to surrender to the boys with my unknown pride built inside of me, so I dealt with my insecurity.

 

The boys ordered flavors they craved at the moment while I ordered an unknown taste for my tongue.

 

“Can I have the pistachio flavored ice cream please.” I spoke politely to the cashier, a small smile attached on my face.

 

“Sure, anything for the lady.” A guy named Henry responded. His comment always brought a pink blush to my cheeks. Specifically at the word ‘lady’.

 

Jimin caught notice of me looking at Henry and made the same joke again. “Why are you blushing Nana?” He obviously smirked, knowing that annoyed me. I had to look at him to order, but he bugged me because of that one time I stared at Henry without talking for a minute. Sorry I was still scared of strangers.

 

“My cheeks are always pink or red.” Same answer I say every time. Henry gave me a polite smile as usual, handing him the cash for the bill.

He made a remark that tingled my heart. “Stop teasing her Jimin.” He rushed off to scoop the ice cream in a waffle cone for five sugar craving eight year olds.

 

Henry was the son of the boss who owned the joint. He was older than us by a couple years, already in high school. He served us ice cream so often, that he gave up asking us where our parents were, knowing how responsible we were to navigate back here as loyal customers. Well the boys, I was still clumsy and naive, tagging along like a puppy.

 

We all said our goodbyes and thank yous to him before walking out on the sidewalk home. With my single scoop ice cream in my hand, I gathered up the courage to the cold flavored ice cream in one quick sweep.

 

It was an unusual taste for me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I moved my tongue up, it once more slowly to process the flavor. My mouth opened in disgust of the after taste left in my mouth after I swallowed the product. Pistachio just didn’t seem like a flavor I could finish, even though my cone was the smallest serving. My lips formed a pout, staring at the sad dessert.

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