Raspberry Ripple

• Camille Wellington, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2017

We were at the convenience store. The piercing blue glow from the fridges stung our sleepless eyes. Lily’s cropped green hoodie showed off her hips and highlighted the red in her braided hair. We were looking for ice cream, more specifically raspberry ripple. Her hazel eyes meticulously scanned the frozen shelves as she walked up and down the aisle. Only us and the cashier were in the store. She started to panic when she couldn’t find the flavour. Vanilla, chocolate, banana, caramel, strawberry. She stomped her foot down and yelled. I went to the cashier and asked them if they had any out back or something. Their bored face bluntly replied “No” and went back to playing games on their phone. When I got back, Lily had resorted to laying down in the foetal position. I gently kicked her side, nudging for her to get up but all she did was groan.
“Come on, get up,” I said pushing her with my foot some more.
“No! What’s the point?” she said flinging her arms about. I laughed as she made a complete fool of herself. She was always so confident. I laughed and lifted her up bridal style.
“Arrgghh!” Lily yelled and wrapped her arms around my neck then laughed. I cannot get that laugh out of my head. Her eyes squinted, crinkling the soft freckled skin around them and her mouth opened wide enough to show off the filling she got a couple of months ago.
We walked out of the store giggling and caught the train back to her place in Merrindale. Lily lived in a little apartment with her mum and caught the train to school every day. Her parents broke up a couple years ago. I remember when she told me she was afraid of her father.
We watched the sun rise through the plastic blinds in her small room. The yellow light painted the white walls. Lily got up from our place on the floor and went to her computer that sat on a flat pack made desk in the corner of the room. The computer illuminated her face. I got up and started spinning counter clockwise.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice soft and gentle like early morning spring clouds.
“Spinning counter clockwise, you?” I responded closing my eyes.
“Checking things, why are you spinning?” she said confused.
“Because each spin I do robs the earth of angular momentum, which slows its spins, extending that night, giving me more time here with you,” I replied stopping to look in her eyes.
“But why do it? Is it worth it? Giving yourself a headache and a pain in the stomach,” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.