Hot Days, Cold Nights, and Sticky-Sweet Ice Cream (aka Loving Summer)

~~

I had never liked summer. The days were just too hot, too sweaty, and way too boring.

In fact, you could say I hated the whole damn season.

That is, until someone with a little persistence and a brilliant banana-shaped smile changed my mind.

Through ice cream, fireflies, and sticky-sweet kisses, I learned to love summer.

I sat on an upturned crate on the floor of an ice cream truck, struggling to keep my balance as it rumbled down the road. Closing my eyes, I tried to beat the heat by staying still.

Wearing the stuffy, orange pinstriped uniform of an ice cream vendor didn’t help. Sweat drops slid down my back and created a sticky feeling on my skin. I tried to ignore it and picture a nice cool iceberg in the South Pole.

This summer had been warmer than any other in the last 10 years, breaking records. I could barely stand it, and had consequently decided that my favorite season was winter.

The truck bounced as it ran over a pothole, causing my eyes to snap open and my hands shoot out towards the walls for support. When I determined myself steady enough, I slowly brought my hands back to their resting spot on my knees.

Sighing, I looked longingly at the high-tech fridge installed into the side of the truck. All the ice cream had been stored in there to keep it from melting.

“Hey, why can’t we eat the ice cream again?” I asked my boss, who was in the single seat in the front of the vehicle. Her hands tightly gripped the steering wheel.

“I told you. If you eat it, it comes out of your salary. And we both barely make enough as it is,” she reminded me in a tired voice, her eyes never leaving the road.

I grumbled something about stupid heat and stupid paychecks before deciding to let the issue go and trying to stay cool without the use of ice cream.

Through the window, I saw various trees and houses pass by. They were the same ones we drove by every day. In this job, I followed a general routine.

Sit in the truck, wish for cooler weather, and serve the occasional customers.

Nothing spontaneous ever really happened.

In the midst of my self-pity, the truck braked and came to a stop at a street corner. “Customer,” Boss called to me. Heaving myself up from my seat, I opened the window and was met by the face of a boy, probably in his late teens. I immediately felt my cheeks turn red. Serving people my age was embarrassing. I looked downright frumpy in this unflattering uniform, and my forehead was be splattered with short pieces of sweat drenched hair.

His skin was light and milky, and his hair was the color of caramel. The way his lips curved up at both ends reminded me of a banana, and his chocolate-colored eyes seemed to light up from within. Just by staring at him my ice cream cravings returned. The fact that I couldn’t satisfy that desire made my mood sour.

“How may I serve you?” My tone was deadpan, showing that I would obviously rather be anywhere else.

He ignored my lack of enthusiasm, and ordered. “I’d like soft-serve vanilla ice cream in a cone, please,” he said, pointing to the image on the side of the truck with one of his long, skinny fingers. His ears were pierced, but his demeanor and speech didn’t reflect the personality of a ‘bad boy’.

“Yeah, sure.” I told him the price, collected his money, and proceeded to make his ice cream using the soft-serve dispenser. It started whirring smoothly, but a few seconds later, the whirs turned into sharp scraping noises. Alarmed, I slapped the side of the machine in an attempt to fix the dispenser to no avail. “Why must I be so technologically challenged?” I scratched my head, then alerted my boss, who had been lounging in front of the steering wheel, of the problem. She came to the back of the truck and began working on repairing it.

“Sorry, the soft-serve machine is having a few problems,” I turned back to explain the situation to the guy. My boss’s grunts echoed behind me as she worked on fixing the machine. “You can choose to wait, or pick a different ice-cream.”

“I’ll wait,” he smiled at me, showing his pearly whites. I averted my eyes, feeling mortified that someone should have to see me in this getup for more than a minute. My lips pursed shut as we waited in awkward silence.

Then his voice rang in my ears, and my eyes darted back over to see him gazing dreamily off into the distance. "Don't you just love summer?” He sighed as he spoke.

I stared at him, unsure of whether the question was rhetorical. Customers never tried to make small talk, ever. I was at a loss for words until his chocolate brown eyes flickered over to me, apparently waiting for an answer.

"Um, no. Not really."

My voice didn't convey the friendliest tone. "I'm more of a winter kind of person."

"What?!" He gaped at me, and his eyes practically burst out of their sockets. It was as if the thought that someone actually didn't like summer had never occurred to him. “How can you not love it?”

"Summer and I just don’t get along." Another curt answer slipped through my lips. I hoped that the ice cream machine would be fixed soon so that he could just pick up his soft-serve and leave. This guy was getting annoying.

Unfortunately, my snippiness didn’t stop him from launching into a whole spiel about the wonders of summer. “What about the feeling of cool grass at your feet? Don’t you like lying in the shade under a leafy tree? Oh, you can’t possibly hate the feeling of warm sun shining on your skin!”

I was about 3 seconds away from slapping him upside the head when my boss tapped me on the shoulder and told me, “It’s fixed.” She handed me a ready-made cone, then went back to the driver’s seat.

"Here's your ice cream." I had to keep myself from chucking it at the guy. My boss was within earshot, so I threw in another line. "Have a nice day, and enjoy your summer." The words almost came out as a hiss from behind my forced smile.

He held the cone with one hand and propped himself up on the the bike using the other. "Thanks, I will. You should enjoy yours, too." Flashing me another banana-shaped smile, he the vanilla-flavored treat as he pedaled away on his bike.

I had thought that would be the last I'd ever see of him.

Imagine my surprise when he showed up at that very same spot the next day, ready to make an order.

And the day after that.

And the day after that day, too.

Every day for a whole week.

I had already grown tired of him by our first meeting. Imagine how I felt at the end of the week. "Why do you keep coming?" I grumbled as we waited for the machine to pump out his ice cream.

"Because," he reasoned, never letting my grumpy attitude sway him. "I like ice cream. It's a delicious summertime treat."

Again with the summer. He always tried to turn me around, convince me why summer was worth my devotion. "Quit trying, Taemin." I had unwillingly exchanged names with him by the third day. "You can't change my mind."

“What about the gorgeous weather? The time to relax, the breathtaking feeling of freedom..”

I resisted the urge to knock his head around and instead rapped my knuckles on the side of the window. “I’m stuck here, remember?” My tone was less than pleasant, now laced with irritation. "I just don't like summer. The days are too hot, too sweaty, and way too boring." The ice cream was ready. I surrendered it to him after putting a few extra sprinkles on top.

He took it, and mentioned one more thing before riding away. Giving me a meaningful look, he said, "Summer is not only full of days."

I was perplexed by his comment. What did he mean by that? The answer didn't come to me until I had returned home from a long day at work. My parents, along with my younger sister, hadn't arrived home from their fun-filled day at the beach, and the sky had begin to change hue.

As a shadow fell upon me, I realized with a start the summer "day" was technically over, and I still had lots of time to do something, anything.

I took a popsicle from my freezer. Being surrounded by ice cream all day without getting a of any of it always needed a proper remedy. The popsicle was designed in the likeness of a watermelon, copying the fruit's familiar shape and colors. There were even little "seeds" sprinkled in the inner pink sherberty layer.

The emptiness of my house was unappealing to me, so I perched myself outdoors on the front steps of my home and savored my small treat.

The sweetness danced on my tongue, mingling with the mint chocolate chips that had represented the watermelon seeds. As I bit into the center, some of it dribbled down my chin and on my fingers, creating a sticky mess. I giggled at myself; I must have looked like a child learning to eat for the first time.

When I finished, I continued to chomp on the popsicle stick, staring into the sky. It was full of the rainbow colors of the evening sunset. The sky overhead me was indigo, but the expanse in front of me.

I sat that way, not really focusing on anything, until a blinking light caught my eye. Looking to the ground, I saw a flurry of wings as a firefly emerged from between the thin dark blades of grass. The moment of discovery kindled something in my heart. An excited giddiness, a childish triumph. I couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across my face. In the night, my cheeks literally glowed as I found out that I was surrounded by not just a few, but dozens of tiny fireflies, flickering here and there.

I gazed on, entranced by these tiny bugs. My reverie was soon broken by the scraping of a bicycle tire. I tensed, and my eyes darted over to see a figure getting off their two-wheeler. Squinting through the darkness, I made out a pearly white banana-smile, and a rush of some feeling flood through my body. A mixture if relief, annoyance, and something else I wasn’t sure of.

“Are you stalking me?” I joked, suppressing the shakiness in my voice. My heart was beating as fast as the fireflies fluttered their wings. My stomach was doing jumps, flips, and flops.

“I was riding by. Even in the meager glow of your porch light, I was able to recognize you.” His smile grew and he plopped down next to me, not even waiting for an invitation.

I silently sat, staring out at the space in front of me, the fireflies continuing to dance despite the new spectator. My heart vigorously pumped blood through my veins. Although the night wasn’t too hot, my palms were moist.

Taemin spoke. “It’s interesting.” I turned my head to face him, waiting for him to go on. “When I saw you this afternoon, in direct sunlight, your eyes seemed kind of dull, listless. But now, even though it’s nightfall, they seem to shine so bright. They sparkle.”

I almost scoffed at how cheesy he sounded, but when I looked at him with skepticism, his chocolate colored eyes trapped mine in an unwavering gaze, refusing to let go. A warm feeling crept up my neck and into my face. I wasn't able to form any coherent words when he leaned towards me. We were so close that our legs were touching, and I could have counted every eyelash on his eyelids.

His lips parted and I braced my own for contact, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Your face seems to be covered in ice cream. Did you enjoy your delicious summer treat?" Instead of kissing me like I had expected, Taemin mocked me, believing that I had given into the temptations of the season.

Still trying to recover from my earlier presumption, I sputtered as I lamely retorted, "Um, no?"

That was when he planted his mouth on my sticky sweet lips, his tongue not hesitating to roam freely inside my mouth. My whole body felt numb except for the spots where his lips touched mine and his soft hands clasped onto my shoulders. Soon after the first moments to contact, my tongue automatically returned his advances and I let myself indulge in the passion of the moment. My eyes were half-lidded, the scent of his subtle, boyish musk filled my nose. My heart rate must have increased tenfold, because all I could hear was the blood rushing through my ears, and a single caw from a night bird.

When he pulled away, that wily banana smile was on his face again. "I was going for the element of surprise," he explained, then smacked his lips, running the tip of his tongue along the edges of his mouth. "Was that.. watermelon I tasted? And mint?" I humbly nodded in reply; my mouth didn't seem to function anymore.

He waited a few seconds before asking, "Can I get some of that ice cream you had?"

I stared at him, stunned. The look of encouragement in his pretty eyes told me that I didn't have to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, and a surge of confidence welled inside me. "I'm sorry, we seem to be out of stock at the moment. But maybe if you come back tomorrow, you could have another taste."

His eyes twinkled, mimicking the infinite amount of stars that hung in the sky overhead. "I guess I'll just have to come back tomorrow, then."

And so I saw him the next day.

And the day after that.

And the day after that day, too.

And so we spent every day together, sitting on those steps. Feeling the cool grass at our feet, relaxing in the evening shade, savoring those small moments of freedom. Eating ice cream.

With Taemin, I had learned to enjoy summer; first the nights, then later the days as well.

I eventually fell in love.

With the season and the boy.

A/N: First, this was originally an isolated oneshot: it has its own "completed" fic in my stories. But I'm reposting it here because a) It inspired me to do the whole SHINing Seasons thing, and b) Chapter 2's shot is taking longer than hoped. Second, I know that I kind of showed the "meeting" part of their relationship rather than the actual "development" of the romance. But ambiguous ends are tolerable, correct? Not great, not amazing, but tolerable. That's all I wish for. Thank you for reading and supporting!

P.S. Layout looks quite unappealing and title is seemingly unrelevant to actual story. Should I change them?