Flying higher, higher, highest. BOOM! Colors scattered the night like a thousand brightly-colored marbles being dropped across pavement. BOOM! FIZZ! The earth shook and Peter’s smile curved upwards as a drop of dream-sickle dripped off his chin, his eyes enraptured by the spectacle above him. A child with a sparkle in hand screamed past him, nearly tripping over Peter in the dark. The dream-sickle, already teetering on the edge of the void, slipped off and onto his leg, the chill finally bringing Peter back to the world around him.
“Aaargh!” Peter leapt backwards as another firework exploded in the sky. He glared angrily after the retreating sound of laughter and sparkler floating in the night. Sighing, he whipped his head back and forth, searching for the ice cream cart. Upon finding it, he hurried over, shuffling awkwardly to keep the situation from going critical and the dream sickle off his shoes.
He ripped out napkins two at a time from the little plastic box, and threw the Popsicle stick towards the trashcan, missed, and had to dunk it.
“Hey, um, are you in line or can I…?”
Peter turned his head around, and saw a figure framed all in white with a great green firework bursting over her head. He squinted his eyes, but the night was too dark and the fireworks too bright to see her clearly. “No, go ahead.” He stepped lightly out of her way and threw the napkins in the trash, making it on the first shot.
She stepped forward, her white dress rippling somewhat obscenely in the breeze. He blushed furiously, glad she couldn’t see him in the dark. Even without distinct features, she was beautiful in a simple way. Shorter, with broad shoulders and a high waist, sturdy but graceful, she was gorgeous. So it wasn’t his fault when he saw her point to the lemon sorbet that his lips quirked again and he said, “Lemon Sorbet, really? Are you serious? It’s not even an ice cream. ”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, pulling her hand back reflexively, ducking her head and letting her hair fall forward.
“No, I just was saying. It’s technically sorbet, which isn’t even an ice cream. I actually kind of like it.”
“Oh, well,” she straightened her back and pushed her hair behind her ear, “I’ll have three scoops of chocolate.”
“No,” Peter said, stepping forward and standing between her and the cart owner, who was now frustrated and tapping the ice cream scooper on his cart. “I didn’t mean to say you couldn’t have the lemon, I was just saying-“
“I can have what I want to have. Three scoops please.” She elbowed Peter out of the way and passed over bills, telling the owner to keep the change before stalking away with the bowl of ice cream in her hand. The fireworks were still going on in full swing and their conversation was interspersed with loud booms and fizzles as they came down. Peter, intrigued and in the kind of emotional state that comes from seeing a beautiful girl on the fourth of July, followed after her. He quickly matched his steps with hers and put his hands in his pockets, thumbs out, smiling brilliantly. “So, three scoops huh? You must really like ice cream.”
She glanced over him, as though baffled by his continued existence after she’d left him. “I’m not going to eat all of it. Some of it’s for my brother.”
“Oh, uh, right,” he said, suddenly becoming awkward as he was derailed.
She sniffed and stuck her nose in the air. He liked her and she knew it. A firework burst overhead and he watched as she ate the ice cream. She ate self-consciously, all too aware of Peter’s presence, but slowly picked up speed. His smile grew wider, if it was even possible, and he did something crazy. Crazy things were as natural to him as breathing and it was why, to a great extent, she was liking him back. Crazy people find each other like magnets find their match. “You want to go get pancakes?”
She stumbled over her own feet, nearly face planting in her ice cream. “Are you serious?”
“Sure, I know a great place just on the other side of the park.”
“Well,” she said, fumbling for an excuse, “What about your parents? What about my parents?”
“Oh come on,” he said, flapping his hand in front of his face, “They’re watching the fireworks. I’m serious, it’s just down the path. You can even see it.” He pointed down the path and sure enough, the storefront’s lights were visible over the top of the buildings. She peered after them for a moment, considering, before shaking her head. “You’re crazy.”
“Yes, probably,” he shrugged, “But I’m going to get pancakes, and you’re not.” He walked off, a little embarrassed but pretty confident she’d follow. Then again, he had no idea what he was going to do if he got to the diner and she didn’t follow. Have pancakes, he guessed. But when he heard her footsteps behind him, he was only a little surprised. He turned around, walking backwards. “Do you always follow people in the dark? Or did you make a special exception just for me?”
“Shut up.”
A firework boomed and illuminated her face. Her eyes were a deep brown, like pools of rich chocolate, and for years he’d remember the first time he saw them.
He slowed down and faced forward again so he could walk next to her. They walked in silence. He was still smiling and had his hands in his pockets and a self-contented spring in his step. She was just about shaking her head in disbelief but the level of ice cream in her bowl continued to drop.
He opened the door for her when they got to diner, laughing at her frustrated eye-roll. He even chuckled when she yanked the inner door open and hurried inside, closing it swiftly behind her. She was already seated at a booth when he sauntered in to the haven of blue and yellow pastels. Her white dress contrasted explosively with the color scheme.
He gestured to the empty ice cream bowl as he sat down. “So I see you saved some for your brother?”
She glared at him. “This is insane, you know that, right?”
“What, getting pancakes? I agree, it’s a tad late, but I come from the perspective that it’s never too late for pancakes.”
Her glared deepened ever further, worsened still by the smile Peter couldn’t quite keep in. She took a deep breath, as though about to give a speech. “Look, if you’re trying to flirt with me-“
“Who said I was flirting?” He shrugged bemusedly. “Just because I was…”
“I know the type of guy you are,” she said, nodding and crossing her arms.
“Oh really?”
“Yes”
“Please, explain.”
“Oh,” she continued, unflappable, “You’re the kind of guy who thinks he’s God gift to girls like me. And I should just fall over at your feet and treat you like the best thing that ever happened to me, right?”
“Well, that would be nice.” He flinched back, expecting her reaction.
She had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. “Don’t expect me to date you, or even like you. I just wanted pancakes,” she said, trailing off awkwardly.
“Who said I wanted to date you? And who said you didn’t!”
“Okay,” she said mistrustfully, “So, pancakes?”
“Pancakes!” he said, clapping his hands and getting the attention of the waitress. “I think we’ll have… oh… two stacks of buttermilk pancakes?”
“Oh, how sweet! A stack for each?” The waitress thought they were on a date and that suited Peter just fine.
“Yes, please.”
The waitress bustled away, casting bemused looks over her shoulder. The girl crossed her arms and leaned back, slipping her heels off under the table. “I don’t even know your name,” she said accusingly.
“Oh,” he put out his hand, “It’s Peter.” She ignored his outstretched palm so he added, “This is usually the part where you tell me yours?”
She shrugged. “It’s Mist.”
“Mist?”
“Yeah, Mist,” she said, suddenly defensive.
“What a pretty name,” he said sincerely.
She shifted her eyes to the left, and then to the right, until focusing determinedly on Peter. She stared into his eyes and his smile became infectious, slipping onto her face like she was born to wear it. His heart dropped into his stomach and then all the way up into his throat, like a spring quickly depressed and released. It was the first time he’d ever wanted to kiss a girl all in white, and it wouldn’t be the last.
“It’s short for Artemis,” she admitted, as though saying something dirty.
He folded his hands underneath his smile. “Now that, I can believe.”
They sat that way for a long time and, after a while, she believed too.