Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN DEFINITELY, MAYBE
The hour the follows Abby and Robin's conversation is filled with silence filled by the occasional muttering of the phrase that spills out of Robin's mouth. Robin has left Abby alone with her thoughts as she takes on the scooping and slinging. It's cathartic in a way, a good distraction from her wandering thoughts that always manage to end up fixating on Steve despite how hard she tries not to think about him. Robin's words have sent Abby's mind reeling because, she knows that there's is definitely, maybe something there. And it's up to her to decide whether or not it's worth chasing after or falling farther down the endless well of feelings. Once you start falling in the right direction, you never really stop, but people describe it as if you're flying. Abby thinks that falling in the wrong direction, too is just like flying except there's a more permanent destination. Abby only hopes that she's started to fall in the right way. She's not sure if she'll be able to break her fall if she had fallen in the wrong direction.
The afternoon has grown considerably cold for a summer day in Hawkins. Outside the sun is masked by the thick overcast clouds. Parents are dragging the children home before they're caught in the downpour forecasted for later that day and pass by Scoops Ahoy without a second glance. A storm has rolled over Hawkins in big thick angry clouds of gray and a violent downpour of rain almost masked by the outside chatter of the mall. It's the kind of rain where you want nothing more than to wrap yourself in soft feathery blankets and shelter in your bedroom away from the loud noise and fall asleep to the steady trickling of rain. But Abby is stuck in the cold interior of Scoops Ahoy. The parlor is empty, the nautical tunes continue to broadcast throughout the empty room. It's far too cold for ice cream now.
Dustin and Steve still have not returned from their endeavor. Abby stands behind the cash register and taps her fingers impatiently against the surface of the counter. She's unbelievably bored as she waits, the dreaded feeling of helplessness and restlessness has washed over her. Robin has fallen into her own rhythm, pen scratching against the pages of her notepad, the occasional sips from her soda, the sound of the dog-eared pages of the translation book being turned, pulling her headphones over her ears if she needs to cancel out the noise from the rest of the world.
"The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets red in the west. A trip to China sounds nice if you tread lightly," Robin reads aloud. She takes a sip from her soda thoughtfully. "Tread lightly."
This is followed by the frantic rustling of the dog-eared pages of the translation book before a knock sounds from the back door. Robin lets out a sigh and mutters something about getting the door. She pries open the window and slides into the backroom. Abby turns to watch curiously as Robin opens the back door to reveal a delivery man dressed in a Lynx uniform. He pushes a cart in front of him loaded with several different boxes.
