Page 25 of Undeniably Perfect

I sigh. “Whatever, still not a word.”

He chuckles and takes my arm in his, looping it through as we stroll down Main Street, motherfucking Main Street. I shake my head as I wait for Mister Rogers to come out of a building or Big Bird. A place like this just can’t be for real.

“All I have to say is if a giant yellow bird or green monster in a trash can pop out, I’m so done with this town.”

His chuckle turns into a full-blown laugh. “What’s wrong with Sesame Street?”

“Nothing, I love it, but your town is like entering the Twilight Zone.”

“Come on, let’s go get some ice cream. I need to indoctrinate you into small-town living.”

I shake my head at him, but he drags me into an ice cream shop and walks up to a counter.

“Hey, Mr. Moore,” a kid says.

“Frankie, come on, you can call me Kent. Mr. Moore is my dad.”

The kid turns red. “OK, Kent. How can I help you?”

“Can we get two waffle cones with your chocolate fudge peanut butter ripple surprise?”

“Sure thing.”

The kid expertly scoops two cones for us, and Kent pays.

“Have a great day!” he says to us with a wave.

Kent raises his cone at him. “You, too.”

I follow him out to a bistro set in front of the ice cream shop. There are four of them and a bench. We sit down, and I take a lick of my ice cream.

“Oh my god, this is really good!” I exclaim with a mouthful of ice cream.

Kent grins. “I know. It’s my fave. They get their cream from a local dairy.”

I almost choke on my ice cream. “Of course, they do.”

He laughs as he takes a bite of ice cream.

“You eat your ice cream?” I ask in shock.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Nope, you lick ice cream.”

Kent gets a devious look on his face. Fuck. I just opened the door for inappropriate comments, but he’s faster than me.

“I prefer to lick other things,” he says with a waggle of his eyebrows, and I know that my face is redder than the ice cream shop’s sign, which is bright red.

“Come on, we can walk down Main Street to the pub and get some burgers, and then we’ll go to my parents’ later. You do eat meat, right?”

“Uh, nope. I’m a vegetarian,” I say with a straight face.

“Ohhhh…well…” He trails off unsure of what to say.

I burst out laughing. “Yes, I eat meat. You should see your face. Is being a vegetarian that big of a deal?”

He shakes his head. “No, I was honestly trying to remember what vegetarian things the pub has on their menu.”

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