Parfait (n) 1. a rich cold dessert made with whipped cream, eggs, and fruit. 2. perfect (linguistics)
All Summer wanted was a peaceful summer with her friends and study her dream major in the upcoming fall. Instead, she got a job at the local ice cr...
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When I open the door to Parfait, sweaty and ready to fall on my knees, I'm instantly met with Kal's glare.
I breathe in the cool air and drag my feet behind the ice cream showcase. "Look who's trying to use the Force now." I notice the corners of his lips twitch upwards, even though he's sporting a frown. "I decided I'm not going to kill you and I brought you food. You can't be mad!"
His eyes fall on the bag in my hands. "Depends. What did you bring?"
I take a deep breath, my smile big. "Okay, I'm not sure if you like it but you should. I brought..." I say, dragging my last word until I unpack the food.
Kal's face lights up. "I love every single food in here!"
"The tzatziki sauce is the best, and it's matcha-free."
He rolls his eyes. "It's not that bad."
I shrug, my lips pressed in a straight line. "You can eat anything you want. Well, you have to eat the compulsory healthy foods that taste like grass." I lift my index finger. "You can't skip these."
"I..." Kal frowns. "I won't."
I nod to myself. "Good. Then you're... good. Make sure to eat lots of strawberries now that there are fresh ones around. They do wonders for acne."
Kal runs his fingers across his cheek. "Do I have so much acne? I thought it was barely noticeable anymore."
"No, your skin is fine." I slap my hand against my forehead. "I'm keeping you from eating, go. And take your time. I was late anyway."
Kal grins. "Thanks. For the food, too."
I smile and push him back, into the kitchen. I close the door with a sigh and a terrifying thought: Kal's grin is quite pretty.
I try pushing that thought away with work, yet after two in the afternoon not many people stop by the shop. I sweep the floor until there's not a grain of sand left, I mop until the place smells of orchid and the white tiles are so clear I can see myself in them. Kal keeps saying there's no need for me to do that, but I pretend not to listen. The repetitive movements help me clear my head.
It's a smile, Summer. It's natural for it to be pretty, smiles are supposed to be pretty. It's not that this specific smile is prettier than others. You're happy Kal is happy because he's been through a lot. That's it. Stop being twelve and sensing non-existent feelings.
"You're right," I mumble as I let the Detol wipe fall on the table.
"I know, but what about?" Kal asks.
I turn to look at him, and he's wearing the same grin as before.
"I wasn't talking to you."
His irises move back and forth. "Then who?"
I take in a sharp breath. "The voices in my head. They say I should stop cleaning up in here and let the next guys do some work too."
