Vanilla

Scary

And an hour later, here she was. Pacing in front of her nephew's door and knowing that she must be interrupting his reading time that was an hour or two before bed. There was no skipping this step; gaining his approval was critical before having the invitations printed and the venue and the food prepared. She wouldn't want to be doing something that he ultimately found...

Scary.

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The trees in the playground had an odd habit of shedding their leaves all over the area; so much so that Vanilla never did figure out how changing seasons had no effect whatsoever on this characteristic feature. He stared at the crisp, dry brown leaves underneath his feet and shifted his weight, hearing a satisfying crunch as he supported the rest of his weight on the middle of the seesaw that the other kids seemed to have lost interest in. There was something hidden behind his back and he was waiting to give it away. Waiting.

"You have a leaf in your hair."

He came with a gust of the wind, he did. The one he'd been waiting for. Vanilla's head snapped up and the eyes behind those oversized glasses of his seemed to sparkle at the sight of a candle. "Hello!" He waved.

His companion closed the distance, reaching up to dust the top of what many others could've mistaken as marshmallow fluff. Such pale, soft hair.

"O-oh! Thank you," said Vanilla, unable to have done so himself. His hands were occupied with an extremely important item behind his back. "I was waiting for you," he fidgeted, shifting his weight once more. "Thank you. For, um, teaching me how to play Mario Kart at your place that day. It was really fun."

And then he pulled it out—presenting the envelope of lilac shade to his companion with both hands. "Here."

"What's this?" Leroy was all frowns at once, accepting the envelope and tearing it open to look inside. The contents did not appear to please him. "I can't read."

Vanilla had been waiting to explain. "It's my birthday party. An invitation, to it," he felt his face heat up like an induction stove and looked down at his shoes on instinct, hands retreating behind his back. "There's no video console. Or Mario Kart. Or any, um, sort of game, actually... but um. But there's nice food. A-and chess. If you like that."

The bespectacled bean was, all of a sudden, caught off guard by a wave of embarrassment. He hadn't the slightest clue what birthday parties encompassed; games and entertainment were, by reason of common sense, critical to adding an element of fun to such events. Upset that he hadn't prepared himself for such a conversation (and his lack of reading up on the definition of birthday parties), the boy was ultimately afraid that someone interesting and fun like Leroy would not be interested in attending his boring birthday bash after all.

"Okay," his companion surprised him with a shrug, seemingly content now that the contents of the envelope had come under his realm of understanding. "I'll ask my mom. When is it?"

Excited, Vanilla tottered over to his side and raised a finger to point at the date printed on the card. "And this is the venue. Oh, and this is the dress code."

This got Leroy frowning again.

"Fa-vou-rite ch-a... what's that?"

"Favourite character," Vanilla read aloud, fairly surprised. But in a good way. He'd had the impression that Leroy, the boy of napoleons and sautéed chicken and weird ice-cream flavours had, like himself, an extensive vocabulary. He began to see how it might have merely been verbal, and not necessarily in the reading department. "You can come dressed as your favourite character! Or you don't have to if that's, um, not your thing."