Touch me Not

32. back in business

The pure relief bursting out of every pore felt just as warm as the rays of sunshine caressing my skin. The doors to the University closed behind me with a certain finality. The last test was done, the sky was impossibly blue, everyone smiled around me—all in all, I felt on top of the world.

I was pretty confident that I'd scored enough points on my last exam to make myself and my parents proud, and unlike a year ago, I could walk out of the last day of school and look forward to a wonderful summer.

Gripping my bag tighter, I tried to repel that thought. What Gabriel had started by throwing me out last year shouldn't have affected me today. My strangely calm therapist, Dr. Fincher, had tried to give me all these lessons on what to do when memories overwhelmed me—or rather, my task was to stop the thoughts before they took me that far into chaos.

My phone beeped with Chris' signal.

I'm buying you ice cream when you're done.

Warmth seeped into my heart. Ice cream was perfect, both a comfort food and celebration. Hopefully, he thought about the latter. Wouldn't want the guy to lose faith in me, after all.

I texted back.

I'm done, and for your information I want the supreme extra special :)

The reply was instant.

There isn't a supreme extra special...

A very typical Chris-answer.

There is one now.

I chuckled as I imagined Chris' wincing, but it was definitely worth it knowing that I was pushing his buttons. He would still buy me an ice cream, and he would go all in.

We texted back and forth a couple of times, deciding to meet in ten minutes at the ice cream booth down on Trent Street.

No longer staring at the phone, I opened up to the world around me, watching faces pass by one by one. A few months ago, I hadn't seen others, not for real. I had walked around inside a dark cloud, far removed from everything unless I had perceived a threat coming my way. With a fake smile, I had trudged forward without knowing where I put my feet. In fact, I hadn't been aware of its existence until it lifted.

I continued to walk along the cobbled pathway, avoiding the dancing shadows of the trees lining the street. It felt as if I was channeling my inner child who wanted nothing but to smile and enjoy the day. Turning a corner, I quit playing around and joined the crowd that steered me toward the shopping streets in this part of the city. Trent Street wasn't the busiest one, but the ice cream place had enough traction to bring a fair amount of customers their way.

Chris waved from one of the rickety tables, prepared with two ice cream sundaes. The grin he wore matched how I felt. Obviously, he'd done well on his last exam.

The chair squeaked precariously when I sat. I don't know why they thought it was a thing to have chairs and tables that barely held together. Maybe the owners thought they looked nice, or maybe they just wanted to go all out with the 1950's theme.

"Dude, we gotta celebrate tonight," Chris said, pushing the sundae in my direction.

I smacked my lips at the sight of three different kinds of chocolate ice cream, plenty of fresh raspberries and a layer of whipped cream on top.

"Earth to Adam."

"Huh?" I looked up and saw Chris facepalm himself.

"You're hopeless around ice cream. I can't understand how you were able to work at an ice cream parlor last summer without gaining an extra layer of padding."