“You too,” I answer.
A silence ensues, where the girl—Lilianne—stands there, smiling at the both of us, her hands buried inside the pockets of her fluffy pink coat, and Finn licks his lips, staring at me. He’s probably also thinking about how shitty I was to him last time, and that only makes me feel worse.
I swallow, then pull the trunk door back down. “Well—”
“We were going to get ice cream,” Finn interrupts. “Wanna come with?”
I look around, at the almost-naked trees and brown leaves on the ground, then at the empty ice cream stand that sits right next to the grocery store.
A gust of wind hits me as I say, “Isn’t it cold for ice cream?”
“Tell that to this girl,” Finn says with a tip of his head to the side.
Lilianne tips her chin higher. “There is never a bad time for ice cream.”
My lips twist up.
I’m tempted to say no. I need to use my only day off judiciously, mostly for stretching exercises and for boring domestic tasks like meal-prepping and cleaning. But when I meet Finn’s eyes, I see something there that tells me he might like me to say yes. He seems like the kind of guy who’d ask just to be sure no one feels left out, but I don’t think that’s what this is, and I don’t want to disappoint him yet again. I’m not sure why. I’ve been a disappointment to most people I’ve crossed paths with. I should accept it at this point.
Except maybe this place could be a fresh start. Allow me to expect something different.
“Okay,” I say.
Lilianne smiles even wider. Strange. What girlfriend has ever been happy to have their boyfriend invite another girl on their date?
We walk the short distance to the ice cream parlor, where Finn says, “All right, what can I get you two?”
“Oh, I’m good. I’ll get mine,” I say.
Finn doesn’t budge, only throwing me a glare. “I said, what can I get you?”
I glare right back.
“We’ll both take a cookie dough cone,” Lilianne interrupts, grabbing my arm like we’re old time friends. “Thanks, Finny.”
“You got it,” he says with a wink before walking away. Meanwhile, Lilianne brings me to a seat around one of the neighboring tables.
“So, tell me about you,” she says, fists propping her head up. She reminds me of some Disney princess, with her mischievous grin and girly colored coat against the bleak background of the not-quite-winter, not-quite-fall weather.
“There’s not much to tell,” I say. “But can I ask you something?”
She nods, eyes wide, as if she can’t wait to hear it.
“Was ‘ice cream’ a code word for some kind of threesome thing?”
She looks at me with pinched lips for all of a second before she bursts out laughing, the sound loud enough to make Finn glance over his shoulder in our direction.
“Oh my god, is that what you think this is?” she guffaws.
Her laughter is contagious. “I don’t know!”
She laughs even harder. “Oh god, wait until I tell him that.”
“Please don’t.”
She must see the urgency in my eyes even though I’m still laughing because she says, “All right, I won’t. So long as you don’t say stuff like that again.”
“I won’t. Scout’s honor.”
