Melt (Vanilla One-Shot)

 Melt: A Vanilla One-Shot

For once, it was actually hot in Walden.

And by hot, I mean slightly warmer than usual, with just a hint of sunshine peeping through the ever-present clouds. Still, that smidgen of light was enough to bring out dozens of day-trippers and families on holiday; they crowded the streets in an array of sandals, swimming costumes, and umbrellas that were even brighter than my hair, all migrating towards the one location that this town had to boast about: the beach.

It was certainly nice to see Walden out of its year-long state of hibernation, but as I tried to make my way down the pavement to the ice cream shop, I decided that the tourist scene was much more appealing on a postcard. I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle yet another gaggle of teenage girls in bikinis blocking my path and giggling about snogging sessions with their boyfriends.

I'd been out of the house for ten minutes, and I already had a headache.

By the time I reached the shop, I was a hot and bothered mess: my lavender locks were falling untidily from their ponytail, my forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat, and my t-shirt and shorts felt like they were pasted to my skin. As I pushed open the jingling door to the family business, I found myself anticipating the cool air that usually greeted my entrances—and quickly realised that I was going to be sorely disappointed.

“It's boiling in here!” I cried, fanning myself with both hands as I was met with a stagnant heat that seemed to have blanketed the entire shop. There were fans up all over the small space, but all they did was push the hot air around the room and threaten to bake us all alive. Evidently, the customers had realised this; the queue consisted of a whopping total of one person: a petite blonde girl in a sun dress with shy eyes.

“Well, look at who's finally left her cave,” my brother remarked, smirking at me from his place at the till. He handed the girl her ice cream (a classic vanilla cone) and her change (a few quid), and thanked her as she ducked her head and scurried past me, out of the shop.

“Shut up,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as I strode further into the tiny shop. “What you should be more concerned about is the fact that it's so bloody hot right now. Last time I checked, this was an ice cream parlour, not a sauna.”

Daniel winced, tugging a hand through his damp brown hair. “I know, I know. I should have installed the air conditioner last month when mum suggested it. I didn't think it'd ever get so hot.”

“Well, you'd better get on with fixing that problem,” I snapped. “If you dragged me away from a beach day with Collette to spend the afternoon here, you'd better not let me melt.”

My brother was just opening his mouth (most likely to voice a snide comment about my sense of entitlement), but before he could speak, his girlfriend, Flo, ducked out of the storage area in the back with a gargantuan package of Flakes in her hand. When she caught sight of me, a wide grin spread across her features, and she tossed the box into Daniel's hands, bounding around the counter to envelope me in a crushing hug.

“Erin, I'm so glad you came,” she gushed as she pulled away. “How are you?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I'm hot, sweaty, and so completely fed up with these tourists that I might just stab the next one I see with their own umbrella. Especially if it doesn't cool down soon. I'm built for English weather, not California sunshine.”

Flo laughed brightly, her eyes crinkling at the sides as she nodded. She'd become so much more outgoing since I'd first met her; the Flo who'd come to Walden a year before had barely been able to open her mouth without blushing furiously.