Page 44 of The Pieces We've Lost

“The answer is very clearly cookies and cream. What kind of person eats Neapolitan ice cream?” He looked at me like I was crazy.

What could I say? Neapolitan was my dad’s favorite. He would eat the strawberry parts, I would eat the chocolate, and we would share the vanilla.

“Dad! That’s my flavor!” I complained as Dad took a big spoonful of the chocolate part.

“I’m sorry, Sunshine. Here, you can have some of mine.” He offered me a bit of his strawberry flavor.

“No, strawberry’s gross.” I pouted.

“Well, how are we going to settle this then?” He raised his eyebrows at me, knowing what my answer would be. It was my answer every time.

“I get to come to the next rodeo with you!” I giggled. “And I get to ride the horses!”

It was always our way of compromising. I shared my ice cream, and Dad shared his passion with me. No matter how far away the rodeo was, Dad always upheld his promises, and I always got to go with him.

“It’s my favorite and that’s all that matters.”

We were getting closer to ordering. There were only a couple people in front of us.

“Hi! How can I help you today?” the girl working the kiosk asked cheerily. She looked young and overjoyed to be serving people ice cream.

“I’ll take a double scoop of Neapolitan in a waffle cone.” I beamed and handed her my card then gestured at Colter. “I’ll also get whatever he wants.”

“I’ll have a double scoop as well in a waffle cone, please, but I’ll take the best flavor there is, which is cookies and cream.” He winked at me.

“I’ll have those right out.” She looked between the two of us, clearly fascinated by our ice cream debate. She came back a moment later with our cones, and we moved to a table to continue our conversation.

“Give me three good reasons why cookies and cream is better than Neapolitan.” I turned to Colter in between licks and crossed my arms.

“Easy. One, there’s Oreos, obviously. Two, it’s still chocolate, but it’s not overbearing or too chocolatey, and three, it’s just superior.” He lifted a finger with each point.

“Okay, the last one was not a good reason.” I rolled my eyes.

“Then you give me three good reasons why Neapolitan is better than cookies and cream,” he challenged me, but I was prepared.

“One, it’s three flavors in one. Two, it basically tastes like a banana split, without the banana, which is fine because who likes bananas? And three, it’s theperfectice cream for sharing. If you don’t like a flavor, you can let someone else eat it and there’s no arguing about who gets more.”Mic drop.

“You put up a good case there, Blaze, but I hate to tell you, you’re still wrong.”

“How much do you want to bet?” I tilted my head, putting my hands on my hips for extra attitude.

“If you can find more people who like Neapolitan than cookies and cream, then I will not only admit I’m wrong but also declare to this entire park that Neapolitan ice cream is superior to cookies and cream, even though it’s clearly not true.”

“And if I can’t?”

“If you can’t, then you have to come to the rodeo tomorrow so you can watch me win the damn thing.” He winked, and I considered the terms.

It would be pretty satisfying for Colter to tell everyone in this park—there were probably two hundred people here—that he was wrong. And going to the rodeo wouldn’t be terrible if I had to go, especially if it meant I could spend more time with Colter before he left.

“You have yourself a deal, Sparky. Be prepared to lose!”

He had a stupid grin on his face the entire time as he watched me go from table to table, group to group, asking people what type of ice cream was better.

“Cookies and cream for sure,” a college-aged couple said.

“The only type of people who eat Neapolitan ice cream are old people…and apparently you.” A little boy looked me up and down as he expressed his distaste for it.

Even the elderly people had to agree with Colter. “Between the two, I’d choose cookies and cream. But if butter pecan was in the picture I would pick that.”

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