Higher Stakes [Strings: Part 1]

Chapter 4: Ice-Cream Confession

Chapter 4: Ice Cream’s confession

It was half past 9. Carton after carton of ice creams, all empty and left on its own on the kitchen’s counter. Demi stabbed her spoon into a carton filled with chocolate ice cream and scoop up a mouthful of it into her mouth.

She blinked her eyes and tried her hard to devour the freezing cold ice cream inside her mouth. Once she got them clearly in, she drew out deep breath.

“Don’t do that.” Selena sternly said, holding her spoon up from the ice cream carton and took a little bite of it.

“Sorry.” Demi muffled, stuffing another spoonful of chocolate goodness. “I’m just-“Gulping it. “just-“

It hurts. Tears falling down her flushed cheeks. Dropping her spoon onto the counter unexpectedly, she threw out her arms out and held her head tight. She was trying her hard to control herself in front of her best friend, Selena. Sadly, she couldn’t.

Her cries echoed thorough the kitchen. Mishmash of hurtful tears and wail of pain were suffocating her. Hiccups between her tears, she gulped her feeling in.

A touch of a hand on her head, leading her into a warm embrace, Demi reached out and wrapped her arms around Selena’s waist, pulling her in. “I’m sorry,” she managed. “I can’t help it. I’m sorry.”

Selena tighten her grip and hushed her. “No need to say you’re sorry Dems, it’s not your fault.”

She pulled away. “But it is MY fault!” Her brown hair slightly curtains her sad face but Selena pushed it out and over her ear. “I told him no. I told him NO! And he’s going crazy.”

“Dems-“

Moving afar and paces the kitchen, she started, “What did you saw back there? Huh? He trashed my room because I said no. He nearly lights my guitar on fire because of a ‘No’. What else could be said there?”

Selena sighed and looked at her, helplessly.

Meanwhile, somewhere else in Beverly Hills, inside a family-oriented Italian restaurant, two young girls, both about 7 and 8 years old were chasing each other around and around the kitchen then to the main room where the customer sits then up the mini stage and finally back into the kitchen.

A woman about in her 40s who was wearing all white attire with a tall chef hat called out from the kitchen’s swinging doors to her son who was at the reception table. “Bradley, honey, could you please look after your sisters? They’re running around Mrs. Reynold again.”

Sporting a black buttoned up folded long sleeve shirt and an also a black fedora hat, Bradley looked over his shoulder and replied, “Okay.” He turned to the customer and said, “Shall we go to your table sir, ma’am?” Holding up two menus, he gestured the way.

Once the couple seated by the window and both looking through the menus, Bradley excused himself and headed to the kitchen.

Inside, he could see his twins’ sisters running around with mini chef’s hats playing tag. Mrs. Reynolds was laughing as they were circling her.

“Nattie, Nicki!” he called them. They immediately stopped and turned to him. “You want to be in front center? I have a couple waiting for an order.”

“Can we do it? Can we do it? Can we take their order?” they were literally jumping up and down in excitement.

“Hmm,” Bradley started. Crossing his arms against his chest and pretend to think, he added, “I don’t know if you two can do it.”

“We can do it! Brady, we can do it!” Nicki spoke. She and Nattie rushed out of the kitchen, both grabbed a blank note pad from the reception table and headed over to the newly arrived couple by the window. “May we take your order?”

The couple surprised by their waiter for the night and smiled.

Their brother shook his head and chuckled.

Arranging the orders up to the rollers in the kitchen, he went outside and found his sister, Kelly, standing by the reception table waving at him. He reached for her. “How’s your trip?”

After an embraced, Kelly fixed her hair and answered, “Wild.” Placing her bag behind the table, she added, “France was so romantic, too bad I wasn’t there with anyone special. Seriously you need to remind me to bring some eye candy when I’m there.” She winked.

“Not everything supposed to be romantic there, you know.” Bradley said otherwise. “The histories are fascinating. Why don’t you go to the museums?”

“Sorry,” she replied. “So not like you bro’. I’m more into saving people’s life threatened danger rather than making people sleep with some old people memoirs.”

“Just do your shifts, okay?” he handed over his apron and notepad to her. Unbuttoning the first three buttons from the top of his shirt and messed up his hair as he put his fedora hat on Kelly instead, he grabbed his keys and wallet from the reception table’s drawer and headed for the door.

He stopped when Kelly asked, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Bowling party.” He answered. “Guys versus the girls. My money on the guys.”

“Well, my money on the girls.” Kelly added.

He shrugged. “Whatever you say. See you later.” Waving goodbye, he rushes out to the pavement and get in his Mustang. Soon after, he drove off.

“I don’t know what or how to express it. Crazy enough for me to understand these little things and just…” she sighed, “Sometimes, we’re at it, sometimes we don’t, sometimes, we don’t know what really happened,” raising up from her best friend’s shoulder, she added, “Heck, Trace and I always fight, like all the time. For many reasons whatsoever, I don’t get it. I don’t even know what I’m going to do.” She sighed again.

“Do you get what I mean?”

“Mostly,” Selena confessed, stroking Demi’s hair gently.

“See?” trying to make a point, Demi continued, “Even you don’t understand what I’m trying to say.” She slapped her forehead with her palm. “I can’t take it anymore. It hurts.”

“Do you love him?” Selena asked suddenly.

Demi sat up straight and faced her. Her heart started to beat fast and fast. However, it melted down when she replied, “I do.”

Horror struck upon Selena’s face.

“I love him so much.” Demi added, slightly smiled. “I want to be with him.”

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