Chapter 3. Ice cream can't break your heart (part I)

It was blind luck that I was working alone that day. Peach had woken up with a fever, and I had told her to just stay in bed. Enough time had passed that I knew the ropes now, and didn't have a problem with running the shop myself. Besides, it was an unseasonably cold day which meant that I probably wasn't going to get many customers. Dark clouds blotted out the sun, the moody grey waves beneath roiling aggressively.

The chipper bell announced Queen Bee Kelsey's presence. I was surprised to see her, alone. It was strange to see her sans her entourage and with no makeup on: her natural eyebrows were really quite pretty, and her skin that she always hid under an impenetrable mask of foundation looked smooth and soft despite a couple of normal blemishes. I could see now she had a pink undertone to her face, and she looked a bit flushed. She had traded her usual pink heels, tight miniskirts, and revealing crop tops for beat-up white sneakers and an oversized mint green tracksuit. She stalked up to the counter.

"Make me a sundae," she demanded rudely.

"Umm, okay. What ice cream would you like the base to have?" My day was quickly becoming more interesting.

"Give me cookies n' cream, death by chocolate, and espresso." She drummed her acrylics on the counter impatiently. They were a cherry red, filed to a point sharp enough to double as a decently effective weapon. I imagined how they would feel scratching down my back. Where did that thought come from? I needed to focus.

"What toppings would you like on that?"

"Do whatever, I don't care. Just hurry up and give me the damn sundae," she stressed impatiently.

"Coming right up." I could see that she was distraught, and I wanted to learn why.

I whipped up her sundae with care, giving her extra ice cream at no charge because it seemed like she needed it. And if I was being completely honest, I was looking forward to seeing this skinny mini pig out for a change. I dumped all the toppings we had on top in liberal portions, then coated the whole thing in mocha sauce. When I served it to her, she dug in without a thank you and began shoveling ice cream furiously into her mouth.

I had nothing to do, so I pretended to wipe down the tables I had already cleaned six times since opening. My attention, however, was entirely on Kelsey. She didn't notice me watching her, too engrossed in the dessert in front of her that she was rapidly consuming. She was completely out of control, wolfing down the sundae as if her life depended on it. The mocha sauce was smeared all over her upper lip. Why did I suddenly want to go over there and lick it off? I needed to get a hold of myself.

When she had tunnelled through approximately three quarters of the sundae at breakneck speed, she snapped her fingers at me.

"More. Now." I was annoyed but not surprised at her brashness. But I was enjoying the show she was putting on more than I had expected to, and I had nothing better to do. So I slipped back behind the counter and built another sundae, higher and more elaborate than before. I wondered how she was going to eat all of this. At her size, she would probably be uncomfortably full already after finishing the first one I gave her. I sneakily glanced at her now, but her baggy sweatshirt dashed any hopes I had of seeing the physical impact of her binge.

I carried the second sundae over to her, but this time I sat down across from her. She didn't seem to care, pushing the old dish she had practically licked clean to the side and pulling the new one towards herself. She was slowing down now. I seized the opportunity to gather some intel.

"Bad day?" I ventured.

"What do you care?" She grunted.

"I'm bored. I have nothing better to do than sit here listening to you whine." Pretending not to be interested seemed to be my best bet. She didn't register my sarcasm, but the approach was still effective.

"Right, I forgot you have no life except working here."

"That's right, no matter what I do I can't possibly have an impact on your reputation. So it's safe to tell me. What's got you in here, by yourself, in sweats, stuffing yourself with ice cream on a cold day?"

She took the bait without further convincing.

"You know Brad?"

"Yeah, Mr. Muscles the hockey player. What about him?"

"He's an asshole," she spat.

"What did he do, sleep with you then leave before you woke up?"

"Fucked me and my best friend in the same night. She knew I was into him, but she didn't care." She attacked the ice cream with renewed vigor.

"That's quite the betrayal, you have every right to be upset." I comforted, "Did he mean a lot to you? Did she?"

"I see now it was stupid, but I really liked him." She put the fork down abruptly and stared into the melting mess of caramel mixing with cookie dough and mocha sauce. "And I thought my friendship with Becky meant more to her than throwing it away for some dick."

"You deserve better friendships than that." I believed everyone did. This girl was spoiled and entitled, sure, but even she didn't deserve to be backstabbed this way.

"You know the worst part?" She dove back into the ice cream, "Brad and his new bitch are dating now, and they're hosting a pool party this weekend at his parents' place. It's already shaping up to be the hottest party of the summer so far."

I didn't see how this was really a problem. "Why don't you go? Show him what he's missing, show her you're not bothered."

"All my friends ditched me, I can't show my face coming alone. Unless...you come with me."
Her eyes finally met mine, shining with just a sliver of vulnerability. In the daylight streaming through the window I discerned that they were a warm hazel, containing swirls of green and gold and caramel.
“Please?” Her cupid’s bow lips pouted as I stared at her in silence, dumbstruck. She was so gorgeous it left me breathless. Between looks and personality, I guess no one could have both.

"Me?" I yelped incredulously. "Are you sure I wouldn't just embarrass you more?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you can fit into some of my clothes. You don't go to our school, right? With one of my outfits and your makeup done, no one will recognize you. I'm doing you a favour, if you do me one by agreeing to wingwoman."

Hell, my only plans for this weekend were a two-day date with the couch and as many bags of chips I could devour.

"I'm free to do it."

She handed her phone to me. "Great, give me your contact info. And get me another one of these sundaes!"

***

Dearest reader, you naughty little macaron,

Swing by my DeviantArt (PassingForVanilla) to be rewarded with AI art of Kelsey's weight gain progression 😉 Feel free to follow along with the pictures as you read, or check them all out at any time! Don't forget to show some love if you enjoy the content 😏

Happy reading! 💋

Xx

~ Passing For Vanilla 🤫