Hot Cream (730 views)

It was another Monday afternoon on the clock. Cliff really hated his job. It was nothing but people who were ridiculously picky about how they wanted their ice cream to be. One time he took an order for a woman who wanted half a scoop of about 8 different flavors in a large dish and then got mad when he told her that he couldn’t do ‘half scoops’. What kind of a place was this, she’d ranted as her 9 year old kid whined and begged for a chocolate cone, she wanted to speak to the manager and she was furious nothing was going right today. Cliff really didn’t care about that woman’s day, nor did he have the heart to feign concern. He just nodded as though he understood and offered her 4 scoops of 4 flavors instead. She wasn’t happy. He had to get his manager. And then he got yelled at for not giving her 8 half scoops like she'd asked.

He was alone for closing, thank god. His manager left early, as he always did. Since they anticipated a very slow day there were no other part-timers there. Just him. To be frank it was a shitty way to run a business and technically his manager was supposed to be here, but the guy went off to spencer’s elsewhere in the mall to drool over the fake genitalia he probably never got to see real versions of in his entire sad, depressing life.

Cliff always got his responsibilities done, though, so his manager liked to ‘entrust’ the store to him. Which basically meant Cliff was all alone if they got slammed with an unexpected rush. He stared at the clock. Only a few more hours. He started to wipe down tables, which were all empty except for a father and son duo in the back corner who seemed to be talking about little league.

The bell chimed and in walked a girl who looked slightly familiar, but not really at the same time. They were in close proximity to Metric, so she must have been another student. Was she college, or High School? Given the way she looked he wasn’t sure. She looked young but the way she was dressed, she might be a baby faced 18 year old. Who knew, right? When she walked in she sat down like this was a bus terminal, and clacked away on her phone. He asked for her order but she dismissed him and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Who came to an ice cream parlor to sit and play on their phone? Whatever. That was her business, at least she’d been polite. Maybe she was meeting someone.

The rest of the shift went on for another hour and a half. His manager still hadn’t come back. He was used to it, though. He only had about two more customers come in. He made a sundae and then a small disk of bubble gum ice cream before he began to put the lids on the ice cream and the clock struck 9:30. They were closed, officially.

Cliff walked towards the door and flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’. He then wiped the counters down, expecting no one to be there. When he started on the tables he saw no one – no one except that girl who’d walked in, told him she was all set, and played on her phone.

Either she really just wanted somewhere to sit for an hour, or she just got stood up. He didn’t know which but given the previous incidents he’d had trying to kick people out at this place, he was certain he was going to find out in some long winded tirade. As he approached her table, he caught the scent of cherries. Oh, he was beginning to think she'd been stood up by some dumb guy. She looked all dressed up for a casual date, didn't she? Oh well. He should probably stop assuming things.

”Excuse me, ma’am? We’re closing.” He said to Logan.

Cliff rose his eyebrows when Logan seemed to get offended when he called her ma’am. It was something he called every customer of the female variety, and unfortunately she seemed to take offense to it. It was the same story with Miss. If he called everyone Miss they got offended too, claiming that he should treat them with more respect and take into account their age. What did he care how old they were? At least he wasn’t calling them ‘hey, you’! Which he really wished he could do. And what, this girl just put her hand up and stopped him from explaining himself. What the heck? If he wasn’t on the clock he would have lost his temper. But instead he squeezed his mouth shut and fumed silently as she closed up her phone and flipped her hair.

He gave Logan a very forced smile, so forced that it hurt, at her demand. What a selfish person. Couldn’t she tell he only made minimum wage? Wasn’t it obvious that he wasn’t going to wait around all night for her stupid boyfriend that stood her up? Hell no!

”You’ve been here for over an hour, Miss.” He made it a point to say Miss rather than ma’am. ”Our hours on weekdays are from 12 PM to 9:30 PM. If he owes you, perhaps you can come back another time? When we’re open?”

”Actually, I’m on the clock, so I have to.” Cliff pointed out. What was it with these customers always just assuming he could pull strings... be impolite and informal... he knew what this girl was trying to do. She was trying to butter him up and get him to keep the parlor open. But he had already put the ice creams away and wiped the counters – once he was done with the tables he’d have to wait for his stupid manager to get back to dismiss him. So even if he didn’t kick her out right now, he’d have something to do while he waited. And when his manager showed up he could kick her out with force. It wasn’t like Cliff had the power to do that, but the manager could call the police if he really wanted to.

She started asking questions about himself but he was distracted when her legs shifted. Wasn’t she going to be cold, walking back to whatever house she lived in? She said she went to Metric, right? He saw her bat her eyelashes and realized she was trying to flirt with him. He snorted a little.

”Okay, I deal with a lot of customers who try to get things from me. But this is the first time someone’s flirted with me to do it. I’m honored.” He supposed it was a right of passage? Before people just thought he was too young, but this girl obviously thought he was in her flirtation age range. Though he wasn't big on flirting, the things she was doing were kind of minuscule right now. And... okay, he stared at her again. She was really attractive. He was worried she’d turn out to be his long lost sister or something, though, so he didn’t let his eyes linger. ”I’m a sculptor. Let me guess about you, though: you’re an actress?”

She did have a point. His manager wasn’t here. And was likely not going to show up for another hour. He couldn’t clock out early without an override so... he’d just stay here. It was weird that this girl was so determined to flirt with him though. Was she just a flirty person? Or was she trying to get her boyfriend to show up and get all jealous when she saw her hitting on some other guy? That sounded more likely. He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, unable to take it.

”I meant at work. I’ve...” been hit on before? He thought about Pippa, the way they’d flirted in the woods and gone to the dance together. She... okay, his confidence was beginning to falter when he remembered that she was the only person who’d flirted with him... besides this girl. He felt like he should go back to kicking her out as she twirled her hair and bat her eyelashes, his eyes falling to the skin of her shoulder. Could... that even be called a shirt? It was so flimsy. He didn’t know her name but he didn’t know if he should ask, either, or did he want to know? If he asked for her name that would make this weird, more personal. ”I think I’ll stick to calling you miss, it’s much more formal.” He said.

He rolled his eyes again when she started to compliment sculpting. She was trying stroke his ego, wasn’t she?

”Don’t bother. I hate sculpting. I’m only in California because my mom’s stupid. I’m moving back to Maine the second I graduate.” he said a little too harshly. He’d liked sculpting... once. But now it was so monotonous. It wasn’t any fun without his dad. Though when she talked about himself he hated to admit he found himself interested, because she wasn’t an actress like he was so certain she was. She was a cosmetology student. He did wonder if she was just shallow, like Shyanne and her posse. If she was, then the flirtations would stop the second she found out what social rung he was hung in. ”Hey, instead of making me look hot, are you good at making makeup that looks like violent attacks? It’d be more interesting if you painted my face so it looked like I had some gory scar!” He grinned, almost in challenge.

He almost blushed when she called him a flirt virgin, but then shook his head. No, no, that wasn’t something he should care about. He was probably never going to see her around campus again after this. She’d hit on him now, jokingly, to make her boyfriend jealous then go about her merry way. And he’d go about his. She’d be a story he could tell Noah later – some ridiculously hot girl who hit on him because she didn’t want to leave the parlor. He was glad he didn’t get her name because then Noah could track her down and try to get his friend to talk to her again. It wasn’t that he was opposed to talking to a girl but it was just so... weird, given the rumors circulating about him and Pippa. Not to mention she clearly had a wandering eye and was like the popular girls – just trying to get things from him. It got his attention, sure, but he was too stubborn to give in easily.

He watched her as she shifted her shirt and then got up, exposing the skin of her shoulder and her legs. Attention. That was all she’d be getting from him. He cleared his throat and glanced out the window. It was dark and supposed to be bitter tonight. Did she even have a coat? Probably not. He wondered which house she lived in. The mall was far from campus. Maybe she had a car. Whatever. Wasn’t his problem. She was the one who stayed here ridiculously long.

He still thought that gory makeup would look cooler than making someone hot or whatever... he glared over at the girl as she stopped by the door. What was she waiting for?

”Okay. Yeah. I’m closing. Which is why you should probably go, whenever you get a chance.” He said. He was going to catch the last bus that headed to Metric Academy, the one that left at 11. ”Unless you want a print out of our hours or something?”

Since she was up he quickly wiped down her table, the last one he had to do. The parlor looked all closed up and he was just waiting on his perverted old manager to show up and clock him out. He leaned against the counter, not caring that his butt was on it.

No, no... Cliff needed to work on his wording. He definitely needed to kick her out. But he couldn’t be rude, that was something only his manager could do. As much as he hated it Cliff needed this job and couldn’t get fired. But his cheeks peppered pink as Logan approached him again, touching his arm, trying to get his apron off. Woah. This was way more than the flirting he ever thought she’d be giving him. Batting her eyes was one thing, so was showing off her skin. But this was a whole new level of... embarrassing? Forward? Probably a mixture of the both.

”Please get off the counter. I just cleaned it.” He said, when she hopped herself up onto the counter. It was one thing for him to lean against it but she was sitting on it. He didn’t look at the skin of her thighs, he was focused on the look on her face as she tugged on his apron. His cheeks were flushed completely hopelessly now. He reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling it off of his apron.

”No. I’m not answering your questions, miss, and I’m not going to kiss you. I don’t just kiss people I barely know.” Despite his blushing face his glare was pretty harsh as he looked at her. Maybe if he hadn’t met her here, it wouldn’t as weird, if... but then, what if Eldin had another daughter? She could be his cousin, too. He shook his head and pulled away from her. ”It’s getting late. If you want to get back to Metric before the 9:45 bus leaves, you should probably get going.”

At her scoff the fluster on Cliff’s face started to fade just slightly, and the frown grew stronger. She wasn’t like the popular girls, he began to think; she was like the popular guys. So convinced they were sexy enough to always get their way and what they wanted, that they refused to take no for any kind of answer. He was thankful when she got off of the counter but she twirled in front of him, closer to him, and that much he wasn’t thankful for. He glanced out the shop windows to look for his manager, who was nowhere to be found. He didn’t know whether or not he wanted him to come. On the one hand he’d get the girl to leave – on the other hand, he’d probably yell at Cliff for ‘allowing’ this customer to stay past closing. That, or he’d eye her up and let it go because she was wearing shorts that almost showed off her butt.

”You sound like a child throwing a tantrum when you say it like that,” he said in response to her hatred of the word no. He folded his arms across his chest as he tried to communicate via body language that he wasn’t intrigued by her. He actually was, though. Not only her body but the way she could apparently read him so well. He kept his arms folded over his chest but he couldn’t hide the surprise in his face as her interpretation of him was almost spot-on. None of it was his deep, dark secrets, of course, but... how’d she find out that much, by just talking to him? Or maybe she was just guessing? Even if that was the case he’d already given away that it was right... so he felt no reason to hide it. Still... you feel like you’re second to someone. Even if it was vague, the fact that she thought that about knowing him for only a few minutes made him uncomfortable. ”You’re not wrong. I don’t agree with my mother’s choices. I can’t stand her husband or their daughter. I want to go back to Maine where my actual home is. But even if you can figure that much out, you don’t know me. I don’t want to kiss someone. I don’t want to... to do whatever it is you want to do with anyone. Just because that’s how you deal with whatever your family issues are, that’s not how I work. Maybe I’m more innocent than you are. So what? Are you trying to corrupt me?”

He took a deep breath as she moved closer. He took a step backwards, his back pressed against the counter. Now she had him pretty much pinned and his expression squirmed as he fought to keep his eyes away from the exposed skin of her shoulder.

He probably could have asked her why she was so bent on kissing him now – there were other people who she could kiss, guys just as corrupt as she was, guys who’d do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. Was she trying to prove a point to him or something?

As much as he wanted to rebut her comments about family and home and not knowing each other, she... actually struck a chord. He was angry at his family, wanted nothing to do with them, but had he really thought about the future? Had he actually thought about any of that? And he couldn’t really understand everything Logan had been through, but he could remember when his father died and his mother told him they were moving. They were packing up and moving and he didn’t want to leave. His fists clenched at his sides as he remembered how she said this was going to be better for them and they packed everything into the trunk of the car. Everything would change about Springfield, and it’d be different, and that wouldn’t be the same town Rhett died for. His throat trembled as he thought about that – that the town had changed. The place he’d had when his father lived there, the position in the town surrounded by neighbors and friends who cared... it was gone. It was gone and it was all his mother’s fault. He felt like punching something. Of course not her, or the girl in front of him – but he wished he could hit the wall... or his step-father. Even though he knew he’d never have the heart to do that to his mother because as much as he hated seeing it, he knew how happy Johnathan made her. His ‘perfect family’. For him, it was himself, his mother, and Rhett.

And he’d never have his ideal family again.

He glared over at her. How the hell had she pulled up so much about him? How in the hell was she so similar to him? They were so different!

”You’re sprouting crap. You still don’t know anything about me! So what if I don’t have a perfect family? So what if everything changes, and all I have is myself? You just can’t stomach being alone, can you? That’s why you hook up with people, right? If I’m innocent, you’re desperate. I don’t need you trying to prepare me about anything. Clearly you’re not handling your family issues well, either. And don’t try to lie to me: you’re not trying to help. You’re just trying to get an easy lay.”

He didn’t expect to get into an argument this heated at work today – or ever, for that matter. He still didn’t know who this girl thought she was. She came in here, got stood up, and then tried to psychoanalyze him like some kind of shrink? Never mind the fact that it was actually working – that only made it worse.

”I’m only in High School – I’m not going to work here forever! This is just to earn some money until I graduate! I’ll find something better, I know I will! And I might not be independent now, but I’ll be when I’m 18!” Maybe something like... being a police officer? He’d love to follow in his father’s footsteps, but at the same time, he was scared of meeting the same fate he had. But, still... Rhett hadn’t bene scared. ”You don’t know my life story, you’re just sprouting whatever you think will get a reaction from me. It’s not that hard to figure out I don’t like my family given what I’ve told you. I mean, I could say the same kind of stuff about you. Like that you’re scared! You’re the one scared of something real, right? I’m holding out for something real because I’m not scared. I’m not hiding myself behind some mask of cherry perfume and shitty boyfriends who’d rather wander around the mall for hours than hang out with me!”

By now he’d completely forgotten that his boss could come in at any moment, and any thoughts of being civil were out the window – he just wanted to get out and go back to his house and sleep in. He didn’t have any plans tomorrow, so it’d be a perfect lazy day. As long as he didn’t have to deal with this girl again... he prayed she never came back to the ice cream shop.

What the hell made this girl so confident that she knew exactly how his future was going to pan out? Why was she so confident he was going to fail when Cliff was sure that it wouldn’t be easy to be independent, but he knew he could do it! He knew he could! He was already partially there. Having any job at 15 was good, right? Because most of his peers were lazy and unemployed – having a job gave him experience. With a diploma from Metric, even if it was in sculpting and carving, would get him somewhere, right? It wasn’t the same as a degree, though... but then he could go to a college up in Maine! But then her comment about Maine changing sent a pang of fear through his system. Things had changed. For all he knew, not even Rhett’s gravestone looked the same as he’d left it.

”For one my job makes me independent – I don’t have to fight for a meal because I can buy one! And don’t say you’re not trying to – you are! Why else are you still here, when the door is right there?!” Here he shoved his hand towards the door, not sure why she stuck around if it wasn’t to piss him off. He narrowed his eyes back at her, scoffing. He knew he was right. He had to be. He felt like his point was proven when she said she didn’t have a boyfriend, and that she was just waiting for some guy she’d probably mated with on Tinder or something. He grit his teeth when she said she knew why he was a virgin (kiss virgin, actually, but the point still stood). What did he care if she had her theories? There wasn’t anything wrong with not having a kiss at 15. Even though Noah always whined about getting kisses. Cliff folded his hands over his chest. ”You’re just mad because I’m right, aren’t I? You’re scared of whatever shitty family you have! Whoever they must have gotten sick of you and I can’t say I blame them!” Okay, that was kind of a low blow. But he was immature, angry and frustrated, so he didn’t seem to care. When she clarified what her perfume was he rolled his eyes and looked away from her. ”I don’t care. Either way you smell like cherries.”

Cliff was surprised – though he really had no right to be – when he felt Logan’s hand connect with his cheek. He swore, glaring over at her, as he rubbed the skin and saw his furious manager right there, observing the scene. Cliff saw the way the older man’s eyes moved to the skin of Logan’s shoulder and thighs and he felt his anger growing. What kind of a creep old pervert...

To be fair his last words to Logan were pretty low, especially when he said he didn’t blame whoever left her. But he didn’t know Logan or her backstory. She seemed to have him figured out to a T, and then all he’d been sprouting were blows that he thought might work – blows that would work on him. He was still enraged at her comments about Maine, about his family. When he’d walked over to her to take her order he didn’t expect she’d try to pay twenty questions.

Cliff didn’t listen to his manager as he yelled in fury at the display he just saw. Cliff was too distracted with his irritation. His home... the home he was so bent on returning to... was it his home anymore? His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the lecture his manager was giving him went in one ear and out the other. He hadn’t made a home here. Aside from Noah, he didn’t like anyone in Salem. His biggest dream was to go back to Maine and get his home back but, but if that dream was impossible and crushed...

He got off the clock a little late – because he had to re-wipe the counter, of course his stupid manager could see the butt print on it – and took off his apron, throwing it into the laundry room out back. He put on his sweatshirt, one that had a picture of trees on it and zipped up to reveal a mountain across his torso. He ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled.

He left the parlor without looking at his manager, who was on the phone with his superiors. If the manager wanted to complain about Cliff making a scene, he’d have to explain to his boss why he wasn’t there to break it up, so Cliff didn’t fear for his job at all.

He exited the mall and felt the cool air on his face. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his room and throw back a cup of lemonade. He had some in his fridge, right? Cliff pulled out his phone and unlocked it, seeing a text from his best friend. He moved to reply to Noah, illuminated by the streetlight above, as he waited for the bus. He was oblivious to anyone who might have been around him – assuming that Logan had left in time to catch an earlier bus. Despite the fact he’d never see her again though, Cliff hated to admit that he was still thinking about her words. His cheek still stung.

"Do you really think it’s the same?"

He pulled out his headphones and plugged them into the device, only to realize the wire was tangled. He frowned and tried to untangle it.

Cliff was so engrossed in his phone and the music playing that he didn’t notice the streetlight above was illuminating another person. He was listening to the musical talents of his favorite band, Florida Georgia Line, and tapping along to the beat. He’d stare out the window and daydream until the bus reached his house and then he’d get out and chill. Maybe Noah would be awake, but if he was, Cliff felt like he was going to just tell him the day sucked. As much as he had wanted to laugh about this memory with Noah before, now it just made his stomach churn.

The songs he was listening to all talked about going home, to the country, to family, things like that. And he loved them, he loved the way they sounded and the lyrics, but now they just made him feel... nauseous. Because for the first time in a while, he began to think that maybe he didn’t have a home. Sure, his mother had a house but it was never his house, too. He didn’t consider the Halls his family... so who did he have? He was overwhelmed with the feeling that he was alone, terribly alone, as he approached the bus.

His footsteps slowed when he saw a familiar person board the bus. He froze temporarily, shocked that she was still here. And on this bus, too? Had she missed the earlier one? He saw the bus driver looking impatient so he hopped onto the bus and glanced at Logan again. He was still angry at her but there was something in the vacant way she stared out the window that made him feel a twinge of something. He disguised it and explained it as more anger. What was she pouting for? She was the one who said that kind of crap to him. After she tried to psychoanalyze him! What right did she have to get pouty?! Angrily he took a seat towards the back and glared out the window, able to see the shadow of his face in the darkness from outside. He could see Logan fiddling with her hair, too, in the distant reflection and grit his teeth. He wasn’t sure if she’d noticed him, but didn’t have any intention of talking to her. Once he got to the neighborhoods, they’d wind up going their separate ways.

He changed the song and continued to glare out the window as the bus began its travel to Metric Academy’s High School neighborhoods. Minutes later, it arrived and Cliff got himself out of the seat before the bus even stopped and practically ran down the aisle to get off first, not even thanking the driver as he usually did before he started to angrily storm towards the street his house was on.

Cliff walked down the street of his street, lost in his thoughts and music. His mother texted him some nights, to see if he was home safe, but she didn’t always do it. Of course she wouldn’t tonight – she was probably too engrossed with Annabelle. Not that he was exactly receptive when she texted him. He rarely replied, or if he did, he kept it curt and direct. It still stung when he thought of his mother replacing him with the baby, a baby she always referred to as ‘his sister’ but she wasn’t his sister, she was Johnathan’s daughter, not his sister.

He was there, changing the song on his phone, when she walked by and towards the stairs. Cliff stared over at her in horror as she ascended them and briefly looked at him. No. No. No. She did not live here. She did not live here. But she wouldn’t have a buddy in this house! Pippa didn’t know her, he’d know if she did. And he loved Noah but there was no way in hell a girl that hot was there to see him, especially this late. And his third housemate... he... he actually never met them, they were new... had she said that she was new? But, even so, there was no way.

”I think you have the wrong house!” He snapped before he could stop himself. He didn’t want to acknowledge her but if she did walk up the wrong steps, better tell her now than later, when she tried to enter.

”Because I live here.” Cliff said. Oh, no. She was the new housemate, wasn’t she? Why did the universe hate him so much?! First he lost his father, then his mother replaced him, and now the person who was rubbing that in his face – perhaps without knowing what real affect her words had on him – was going to be living with him? He wanted to scream.

When she accused him of suspecting her of following him he rolled his eyes again.

”I don’t think you’re following me, I genuinely assumed you had the wrong house. I don’t care if you’re lost. Why would I care? You could go get lost in the woods for all I cared.” Getting lost in the woods actually sounded like a good idea. He could camp out away from his house, and his family, and just lie back and stare at the stars until he fell asleep. She could keep the house and he could just retreat into the woods, never to return. ”Don’t tell me you live here, too.”