4 | Lemonade

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4 | Lemonade

~☁☀☁~

"Look," I began as I rested my hand on my hip and glanced at the guy's nametag, "Richard. All my friend here wants is a Skittle milkshake. Is that so complicated?"

"Seriously," Reyna scowled as she slammed a red packet on the counter. "I'm even supplying my own Skittles. All you have to do is throw it in the blender with vanilla ice cream and press a button."

"Uh," he blinked. Then he repeated for the third time, "It's not on the menu though."

"Come on, Skit," I gave him a disapproving shake of my head as I turned my friend away. "Let's leave Dick alone and go over there. They have waffle cones, which are better than milkshakes anyway."

"Nah," she declined, tearing open her packet of candy while we walked. "How about we get some fresh lemonade for us and the boys?"

By some miracle, Ian and Wesley bonded over The Drip Drop. They enjoyed it so much that they got back in line to go down the slide a second time.

I personally didn't like being shut in a box and having the floor fall out from under me. I screamed the whole way down until I hit the water and swore I would not be doing it again. Since we spent the past two hours in the water, Reyna and I left them alone because we were ready for a break.

The park had gotten significantly more busy, so the line for the lemonade was long. While we waited, we discussed which water slide was the best. Then we got on the subject of our game of Marco Polo.

"I still can't believe that guy didn't kick Ian's ass," Reyna said.

Reyna responded 'Polo' to her brother's 'Marco' after he caught Wesley and me. Ian thought he was close enough to her voice when he lunged forward, but he landed on a guy who had to be an aspiring body builder. He was twice the size of Ian with thrice the muscles. He had the impeccable timing of swimming by at just the right moment.

The worst part about it was Ian felt up the guys arms in confusion before opening his eyes and seeing what—or rather whom—he caught.

"Y-you're not my sister," was what he said.

The guy looked ready to pummel Ian and turn the water red with his blood, but a little girl called for her dad. His angry expression softened at the sound of her voice, so he shoved Ian away and swam over to his daughter in the shallow end.

"Honestly," I told Reyna as we drew closer to the lemonade, "I think Ian's hug with death was the highlight of my day."

"Even over the shimmering sunscreen?"

"It didn't last long enough," I frowned. "Shouldn't have bought the cheap brand."

"No, I meant putting it on him."

I was used to denying or hiding whatever residual feelings I had from crushing on him, so my response was a reflex when I said, "Don't be gross."

"I wasn't," she chuckled, stepping forward as the line moved up. "I'm just making sure that you know I support you."

"Yeah. I got that, Skit. You're like a brass band in a library."

With a laugh, she apologized, "I'm sorry, Fere. I'll try to show my support more discreetly from now on."

"You can start with discreetly supporting my wallet by paying for the lemonade," I told her and ordered four cups.

While she was paying for them, I stepped off to the side with a satisfied smirk.

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