~

~

s u n l i g h t ’ s k i s s,

s t r a w b e r r y c h e e k s,

f r e c k l e s top of marble,

s w e e t.

jeweled eyes, pistachio,

that compli - m i n t

her starlit glow.

~~ cherry drapes ~~

vanilla ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ bean;

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

sprinkled words,

XXXXXXXXXXX

confetti dreams.

XXXXXXXXX

cravings, yet

XXXXXXX

to satisfy

XXXXX

when at,

XXXX

long

XX

last

,

dessert

arrives.

"Blueberry cream for me and Strawberry swirl for her," Chelsea said to the lady upfront.

She smiled at me since she knew my mother and beckoned for us to come back.

With a heavy Vietnamese accent, she told us to wait at our chairs while she went to get the nail technicians. Chelsea looked around the building.

"This is a nice place. Your mom could've easily taken the job here."

I ignored her. Chelsea had been dancing on my nerves all day, though she swore she wasn't trying to, and this was going to be a spectacular concierto if she didn't let up. A quiet boy came and placed two milkshakes next to us and walked away. I sipped it to avoid answering any questions that Chelsea asked.

"He's cute, right?"

I shrugged. The boy reminded me too much of my brother to be attractive. I was nearly finished with my shake when two Vietnamese ladies came out to greet us. I knew one through my father's job, though she didn't seem to know me. They both went to work, filling a bath for us and soaking our feet in them. The warm water shot comfort up my legs towards my brain. I had been transported from a salon chair with my friend who was bitching about her break-up to a warm oasis filled with palm trees and camels. The wind blew past, whispering about its day and asking how the kids were, and the trees shook back answers.

"Psst," Chelsea said, interrupting my calm.

"What?"

"What are they saying?"

"I dunno."

"I always feel like they're talking shit about me."

My oasis had become a mirage in an instant and I was back in the unavoidable desert of hanging out with Chelsea. I had been avoiding her for weeks and the only reason that I had agreed to hang out with her today was because I knew how much Alex had meant to her. I was regretting it now though. Chelsea shifted and took a sip of her milkshake.

"What kind of milk do they use in these?"

I shrugged. She kept going despite the brick wall clearly laying before her.

"I think the ones at your mom's salon are better. Why didn't we go there?"

I shrugged. My mother didn't like Chelsea and wasn't shy about it. That wasn't the reason I didn't want to take Chelsea there, but I really didn't want to ruin another perfectly fine dinner with my mother asking why I still hung out with her. My mom didn't understand the hierarchy of high school. Though she had gotten a degree, she had focused on her studies and didn't really have friends. She had expected the same from me, though she was getting better at understanding.

"What's going on with you and Phuc?"

"We're math partners," I said.

"You don't want to fuck Phuc?" she chuckled at the trite joke everyone has made since middle school.

"He has a girlfriend."

"Phuc Tran has a girlfriend?"

"Yeah. Her name's Sarah or something."

"Is she Asian too?"

I shrugged. "I've never seen her. He just told me they went on a date and that's why he didn't do his part of the project."

"Oh. How's Calc II going?"

I shrugged. I wasn't a mathematical person in the slightest but my father was convinced that I was going to use it to become a mathematician. It didn't help that I was good at it. I looked at my watch and laid my head back on the chair. It was too early to make the excuse that my mom wanted me to be home, especially since my grandmother moved in to help with my younger siblings and my mom has let up on being so strict with me.

"So, Alex is already taking someone else to prom."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Amber Wynn. That bitch on the cheerleading squad."

I heard one ofthe Vietnamese women say something catty that made the other one laugh. I smirked. Chelsea, noticing my smile, was down my throat in an instant.

"What are they saying?"

"She said her daughter has a boyfriend like that now. Her friend found it funny because her daughter isn't allowed to date yet."

Chelsea didn't believe me but stopped talking for a couple minutes.

"Why do they all do nails?"

"They?"

"Well... You know..."

"Mia Farrow," one of the nail techs chimed in. "She teach new immigrants to make money for when we come here for better life."

"We just need money to make our families successful," the other added.

"I am really doctor," the first said with a proud smile. "I just need better English."

"My son is going to be lawyer," the other added. "We almost make enough to send him to college."

Chelsea quieted, even when the women switched back to Vietnamese and continued talking. She was silent up until we were walking away from the salon towards the food court.

"Did you have to learn English?"

"Yeah. Little bit."

"I was surprised when she spoke in English."

"I noticed."

"Why don't they just speak English then?"

Before I could tell her just how that was a stupid question, my phone wrang. It was my mom.

"Hello?" I said in Vietnamese.

"Naomi?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"Where are you?"

"At the mall."

"Good. I'm driving past there and will pick you up. Come through Macy's."

"Yes ma'am."

I hung up and turned to Chelsea.

"I have to go now. See you in English tomorrow."

Before she could answer, I turned and waddled down the hallway towards Macy's.

We were an ice cream parlor

Lips the color of raspberry sorbet

I stared into cotton candy froyo eyes

Chocolate peanut butter locks cascading over caramel ears

I've never met someone quite so sweet

With hands smooth as buttermilk, we stood in lemon zest lighting

Your bangs covered your shy French vanilla smile as you stared down at my strawberry sandals

We made pinkie promises over pistachios and tied them together with cherry stems

Tongues red as velvet while we shouted summer over rainbow sherbet

With cookie dough on our fingertips we lined the streets in sidewalk chalk

Our knees coated in every flavor

From coffee to watermelon and everything in between

The holes in my bubblegum pink jeans turned into pockets for your neapolitan palms

That great mango globe turned our skin maple

Singing summer against the blue moon skies, we vowed over apple pie never to forget

Printed it on every lobe of our brain freeze

I read the story over in mint chocolate chip font every black cherry night

So the pineapple gold days don't fade

You were strawberry ice cream on a summer day,

gentle and sweet and forever.

my favorite, though I would never tell you that.

You were laughter and sunshine and quiet smiles,

held hands and muddy knees.

I let you become my everything.

. . .

And somewhere along the way I forgot that I was just vanilla.

Always there, lodged in the back of the freezer.

You let me think that I am something special-

your favorite flavor.

but you deserve tangerine sunsets

and the depths of a dark chocolate abyss...

not me.

Not this perpetual nothingness.

I am too bland to be worth your time, and yet,

as your strawberry lips crash against mine

I let myself believe

that I am enough.

If you've ever had a shot of Everclear

With Clorox and coffee to chase,

Or room temp wine with bitters

And an extra charity case

And split the difference between ourselves

Knowing we play money in teams the same

The only tolerance we do not share

Is just then just ice cream taste.

Like firecracker-purple healthy burgers

And blind eye apple lodge cysts

All the prickle pined context pieces

Makes no bull ticking monday loving sense.

A spoonful of green tomato paste

In a raw egg white and cereal smoothie

If I ever mixed dairy and nightmares

That's what an ice cream flavor would be.

I ordered Coke

You gave me diet

You had my trust

Until I tried it

But now I'm half way back to work

And you're careless f#?!*#* jerk

I never understood the

difference between

Rocky Road and

Moose Tracks

Something about nuts

But whatever that

difference might be

At least I'm not having

sorbet

The imposter

of ice cream

the truly nutty choice

The first day of school

is a big day when you are

young. You celebrate.

We used to walk down

to the beach. Pick up our ice

cream at the window.

We ordered from a

long list in white all-caps font

on a black background.

I liked blue ice cream.

Dinosaur crunch, was it called?

Electric blue hue.

I also liked moose

tracks. Peanut butter cups and

chocolate ribbons.

The store closed down and

I can't remember the last

time I had those. I

can't remember when

I had the dinosaur crunch

and moose tracks ice creams.

Why haven't they invented it yet?

imagine a rich, cream cheese ice cream, similar to vanilla but richer. Inside are spiced walnuts, chunks of carrot cake, but no raisins. I always hated them.

The ice cream melts on your tongue and makes everything better. You keep it in your freezer and eat it with as spoon right out of the container after the kids go to bed.

It's like a secret special occasion, just for you.