Page 8 of Scoop Me Up
As I led her away from the kid’s zone and toward the emcee who was announcing that the contest was about to begin, Ellie spoke up.
“Daddy! I have an idea!Youshould enter the contest.”
I couldn’t stop the laugh that burst from me. “No thanks.”
“But youloveice cream. It’s your favorite.”
She wasn’t wrong about that, but I could come up with about a half dozen good arguments as to why it would be a bad choice. I decided to go with a classic. “They probably don’t have room for any more contestants, anyway.”
At that moment, the emcee made a request to the audience. “Do we have any other entrants? Anyone else who thinks they can eat more ice cream than any other Maplewoodian? Step right up! We still have a few places left at the table.”
“See?” Ellie gave me a smirk.
The weather was sweltering, it was pushing noon, and we hadn’t eaten much that day. Ice cream sounded divine. But… Did I really want to potentially embarrass myself in front of all thesetownspeople I hardly knew? People I’d be spending the next two months being friendly with?
“Please?”
I sighed. “Fine, I’ll do it. But don’t get your hopes up, okay? Some of these people probably train for it all year.”
Nearby, someone laughed. When I looked for the source of the sound, I spotted Sam once again, grinning widely. “You’re right,” they said. “We’re serious about our festivals.”
“Oh?”
Sam nodded sagely. “Very serious.” They raised their eyebrows. “You’d better hurry on up there. I can watch Ellie. I hope you have a strong stomach. That’s a lot of ice cream.”
I sighed deeply and headed toward the stage. The crowd cheered and clapped as contestants took to the stage, me included. As I took my seat, I looked around at the other competitors. There were several other people my age, mostly looking like dads, though there was one person at the end with brightly colored hair who was most likely in their early twenties.
The emcee waited until we all had a tower of ice cream pints and a spoon in front of us. “Winner is whoever eats the most ice cream in five minutes. Everyone ready?” When we all nodded, he looked at the audience. “Help me count down from ten.”
All around us, people counted down, the count becoming louder and louder with each passing number. Once they finished counting, the crowd shouted out “Go” and we all picked up our spoons and began digging in.
The first few bites were fine. Refreshing. A relief from the heat. Delicious, even. Ellie cheered from the audience, and every time I glanced up, I saw her bright, shining eyes. She was jumping up and down and clapping. Next to her stood Sam, and I was hit with a weird wave of competitiveness. It only took me a second to realize what I was feeling—the desire to impress them. I swallowed a mouthful and plunged my spoon back into the pint.
As I dug deeper into the first pint and neared the bottom, pain began to build behind my eyes. A few bites later, the pain turned sharp, stabbing me in the throat and roof of my mouth. Nausea followed quickly after and I pushed my chair back, away from the ice cream, my spoon clattering to the hard plastic table. The pain spread to my temples, searing into my brain.
Brain freeze. I was done for.
“Go, Daddy, go!” Ellie’s voice rose above the crowd, encouraging me to keep going. I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth in hopes of alleviating the pain, but it was no help. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I dove back in, determined to give it my all. It felt like an eternity but eventually Drake called time. I dropped my spoon once again, relief washing over me. I cupped my hands over my mouth and blew hot air into them, hoping the warmth would help alleviate the pain.
I glanced over to see the emcee making his way down the line, checking each contestant’s pint collection. I clearly wasnotin the running for the win, so when Drake passed me, I just shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. I hadn’t even finished a single pint of ice cream.
“And the winner is… Theo Cameron!”
The crowd burst into applause again as the winner stood and pumped a fist into the air.
As we were released from the stage, the crowd dispersed. I made my way down the steps to Sam and Ellie.
“Sorry, El,” I started. “I tried.”
“You did your best,” Sam interjected, putting a hand on my shoulder. Heat flooded my body, radiating from where they touched me. A second later, they removed their hand and my stomach went cold. Probably from eating too much ice cream.
I mumbled my thanks and then turned my attention back to Ellie. “Now I think it’s time for a break.”
“Do we have to?” she grumbled.
Sam spoke up. “You should probably give your dad a break. He just ate alotof ice cream.”
Ellie sighed dramatically. “It wasn’t that much.”
