Pineapple Randomness

Pink hair

We literally just moved into this new neighbourhood, like, the truck that had all our stuff in just unloaded the last box and drove away with us sitting in this sweltering heat having to organize everything. Obviously Mom want's all the big stuff to get moved first. Like the couches, five beds (three of them double) and the piano was also not in a good spot. Believe you me, pianos are heavy! Or at least our one is.

So when we heard the ice cream truck Dad me and my brother convinced Mom to let us go get ice cream. And even though she hadn't been carrying round pianos, you can see she's sweaty and hot too. She nods with a smile and walks with us onto the porch of the house.

Strange, the people here don't really seem to like ice-cream. In the hot late afternoon, lots of people have been sitting on their porches to take as much advantage of the light breeze as they could. But now everyone rushed inside as if seeing their new neighbours was some kind of horror.

'Rude' mutters my brother to me as we walk to the street so we can stop the ice-cream truck.

'Maybe they're all introverts, or like, really lactose intolerant or something' I reply.

He shrugs and turns toward the truck which has just stopped for us with my Dad. Something however catches my eye. It's the movement in the window across the street. The girl there is thumping and waving at us, obviously trying to warn us of something. But no sound penetrates the glass, and nothing seems to be out of the ordinary.

I shrug at her and turn to the ice-cream man who was talking amiably to my Dad.

He looks strange all right, but really, really, handsome, in a really weird way. Pink hair, charming smile and twinkling blue eyes. But the most surprising thing was how young he was. He appeared to be about my age, a year or so older maybe. But I'm 14, and I'm pretty sure I won't be allowed to run my own ice-cream truck even if I were 16. But man, this guy really was incredibly handsome, he glanced at me and winked. I felt myself blushing. Was he going to come down the street every day? Or just on the weekends or what? Maybe we could get to know each other.

Suddenly a loud slapping sound breaks my mesmerisation with the ice-cream truck guy. My Dad yells in pain and looks at my Mom in a dazed confused kind of way.

"We won't be needing any of your ice-cream mister." My Mom says abruptly and lead my Dad back to the house by the arm. My Dad still seems to be in some weird state of shock and is staring at my Mom like she was the one with pink hair. I glance at the ice-cream guy apologetically and led my brother away, who was still gazing at the guy mesmerised. He never could keep himself from staring at odd things like pink hair.

My Mom waited for all of us to enter the house and then she slammed it shut glaring out of it.

"What was that all about?" I asked dismayed.

"I don't know dear, but that man was not who he was pretending to be!" my Mom said in a huff.

"Wait what!?" I stammer. "But he was only a boy."

Everybody looked at me. "No! it was a girl!" my brother exclaimed. "She had pink hair."

We all stared at each other in confusion. "What did you see dear?" My Mom asked my Dad.

"You, but with pink hair."

My Mom nodded. "And I saw you with pink hair. You were about to buy 30 litres of strawberry ice-cream dear! If you're about to bankrupt us by buying ice-cream, at least choose a better flavour."