“I wasn’t,” I assured him as I pulled my jean jacket on over my dress.
“I have this allergy,” he explained as I shouldered my bag and took the ice cream back from him. “I can’t do any raw fruit or vegetables.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to look like I was hearing brand-new information. “And ice cream counts? The allergen doesn’t get…frozen?”
Freddie laughed, and I smiled just hearing the sound of it. “I don’t want to risk it. I have—an important performance tonight.”
I felt the smile falter on my face. “Right.” I took a bite of my ice cream? so he wouldn’t read anything on my face. Because even though I wanted to warn him about what would happen at the performance—I knew it wouldn’t change anything. That there was nothing to be done.
We walked for a moment in silence, both of us just eating our ice cream. I looked over at him, then back down at my scoop. I wasn’t sure if this was…over now? I didn’t know where things went from here. For all the time we’d spent together, we’d never before been precisely here.
“How’s the strawberry?”
I gave him a smile as I took another bite. “It’s great.” I knew now he’d probably tell me about the Sweet Emporium, back home in Croydon. But, not even knowing I was going to, I took a breath and kept speaking. “The best ice cream, though—that’s at Sweet Lady Luck.”
“Oh yeah? And where’s that?”
“Las Vegas.”
“Vegas?” His eyebrows shot up.
“Have you ever been?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“Never. Always wanted to go, though. My brother, Jack, is desperate to go. He’s just trying to save enough money….” Freddie’s voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “How do you know about ice cream parlors in Vegas? Do you live there?”
“No, I live in Harbor Cove. Like, twenty minutes from here. More in traffic.” Freddie nodded and took a bite of rocky road, and I knew I could have left it there. But I found, to my surprise, that I didn’t want to. “But—I used to live there.”
“Youdid? That’s brilliant. I didn’t know anyone actually lived in Vegas. I’ll have to tell Jack.”
I smiled at that. “Yeah. I was there for…four months, I guess.” I ?made myself keep going, even though I was very aware that this was uncharted territory. “My dads renovate houses, so we move a lot. And I used to think that I was fine with it. I really did. But…a friend of mine told me that maybe I’m actually more upset about it than I’ve let myself feel. I’m still processing it, I guess.”
Freddie nodded. He was listening to me, just like I knew ?he would. “That sounds like a smart friend.”
?“He really is.” I ?smiled, feeling a little lighter just for having shared this.
“You have to say what’s on your mind, right? Otherwise, the words weigh too heavy on your heart.” Freddie blinked, an expression that I recognized coming over his face. “Sorry,” he said. “That just could be a good—”
“Lyric?” I finished for him. He glanced at me in surprise and I shrugged. “It just sounded like one to me. And you told me you’re a musician.”
“I’m trying to write the perfect song,” he said, digging in his messenger bag and coming out with his black Moleskine notebook.
“You are?” I asked, surprised—I hadn’t heard this before.
“I mean, I think all songwriters are, right?” Even though he bent his head to scribble the line, I could see he’d started to blush faintly. “But I feel like it’s a daunting thing. And if you chase it, you’ll probably never find it. I think it kind of just has to…appear? But maybe that’s just what I say to excuse the fact I haven’t gotten there yet.”
“I’m sure you will.” I smiled at him, even as I felt a wave of guilt hit me. Freddie was so talented, but the fact was, it wouldn’t matter—his big break was just an hour away from getting undone by forces outside of his control.
Freddie’s phone beeped, and he pulled it out and looked at the time. “I should really get going. I have to get ready for the show.”
“Good luck,” I said, trying to look nothing but supportive and happy for him.
“Thank you. I…um…” He ran a hand through his curls. “Maybe I’ll see you again, Cass?”
I nodded and smiled at him. “I’m sure of it.”
Freddie gave me a grin, then headed in the direction of the theater, breaking into a half run as he got closer.
I took a bite of my ice cream, then started toward the entrance that would reset all of this. But I wasn’t running or hurrying to get there—I was just enjoying the walk, and my strawberry scoop. Talking to Freddie had been calming, somehow. I knew it hadn’t fixed or solved anything, but maybe that was okay.
