Loving Lewis

Chapter 5

"Have you ever had the banana split at Carmel Cones? They're the best," Lewis asked, pointing out an ice cream shop as we walked up the boardwalk. "The hot fudge sauce is out of this world, and the pineapple chunks they put on top are dipped in chocolate." His eyes were big and sparkling as he looked to me for my answer, and I could't help but laugh.

"Never," I told him.

"WHAT?" he exclaimed, and his sudden outburst was so loud a family eating sundaes outside the shop glanced over at us.

I self-consciously pushed back my bangs, but let out a little laugh. "Shhh! People are staring."

Lewis didn't seem to care. "Are you serious? Why the heck not? Your life must be miserable. Banana splits are the food of the gods."

"First, because I don't eat high fructose corn syrup regardless of how out of this world it is," I explained. "And second, I'm not a ten-year-old." There was also the fact that on a normal day—normal meaning playing tennis or shopping or hanging out with my friends, not spending my free time scooping dog poop with Mr. Southern Charm—I wouldn't be caught dead at the boardwalk; it was on the wrong side of town, if you know what I mean. Not that I would tell Lewis that.

He jerked to a halt, looking even more aghast than when I told him I'd never had the banana split from Carmel Cones. "Are you saying only ten-year-olds can eat ice cream? If so, I don't think this friendship is going to work out."

"We're friends now?" I asked. "I thought we were just coworkers."

"I share Tacoalypse Now with you, the best food truck in the city, and you don't consider us friends?" He put a hand to his heart and said dramatically, "You wound me, Quinn."

Another burst of laughter escaped my lips. "My apologies. I didn't realize sharing tacos resulted in instant friendship."

"They do, so whether you like it or not, we're officially friends. Now come on, there's someplace I want to take you before we have to get back to work," he said, pulling me further down the boardwalk.

"Wait, we're not getting ice cream?" I asked. After all the fuss he made about the banana split I expected Lewis to drag me inside to try some.

"Oh, we will. There's no way I'm letting you live life without the bliss of the perfect banana split, but it will have to wait until next time," he said.

Next time? I bit my lip at the thought.

As we made our way to wherever Lewis was taking me, he pointed out his favorite places like Bobo's Bike Rentals or the candy store with his favorite salt water taffy. The more he showed me, the more I began to realize that Lewis measured his life in bests: The best food truck in town; The best banana split in the world; The bike rental place with the best deals. Which made me wonder how much time he spent here. With his accent, he certainly didn't sound like he grew up in the area.

"You spend a lot of time here," I said. I meant it more as a question, and Lewis quickly caught on.

"Yeah, my dad was born a few blocks from here," he explained. "My parents got divorced when I was three, so I spend the school year with my mother in Tennessee and summers here with him."

"That has to be hard," I told him. I couldn't imagine leaving home every summer, being states away from my social life and friends.

Lewis only shrugged. "It's all I've ever known, so it's not that bad."

I wanted to know more, but before I could ask another question he pointed to a small open-air building at the end of the boardwalk. The sign hanging above the door read Arcade Avalanche, but the flashing lights and dinging sound of video games was enough to give the place away.