His Paper Heart ✓

•4|His Ice Cream Theft

"I MEAN, I KNOW I'M GOING TO DIE VERY SOON. Chances are, my left ventricle inflames more and stresses on most part of the other veins but I'm curious. I want to see the face of God. I have so many question for Him." I shake my head bitterly.

In Sunday School, I was taught God loves all his children. True love, even more than what a mother feels for her children. We're what God holds dearest, His biggest creation. My priest is rather uncomfortable with answering questions about why some people deserve what they have. Why the homeless man deserves the dirty, cold floor but the rich politician is blessed with mansions. Why do I deserve to die so young? Maybe it's for a higher purpose, a much safer place far more beautiful than earth. Maybe this isn't my home. But, unfortunately, I want it to be. Just for a fleeting moment, I want to be alive.

I want to be a sinner.

There isn't a lot of people in an ice cream shop at nine in the morning. The children are in their homes and playgrounds on this Saturday morning and the adults can barely take a minute out of their schedules to breathe. The man behind the counter, wearing the pink apron has already dropped off a tiny menu before retiring back to his previous position. I can tell the man knows the menu itself is a surprise to me. It looks like a washed out, laminated newspaper.

"Can you die from a brain freeze?" Gray asks, ignoring the topic at hand.

"I've had a brain freeze and even though nothing really happened, my parents won't let me have ice cream till it's melted. The first time I choked on bacon, I was nine and after that, my parents blended all my foods till I was fourteen. The day I had bacon after that, I choked again. I'm supposed to eat carefully."

"I asked if a brain freeze can kill you, not your life story. Ice cream or not?"

"For breakfast?"

"Well if you want to be a sinner then you gotta start somewhere."

"How do you do that?" I question.

"Do what?"

"It's like you can read minds," I answer.

"A magician never reveals his secrets. About that ice cream?" he picks up the menu again. "Having it or not?"

"You've already turned me into a rogue so what the hell," I whisper.

"I haven't turned you into anything."

"Oh really?" I chuckle. "Never ever has a boy touched my butt. My brothers will kill me if they find out. You don't know them. They're like two cavemen always fighting over a dead antelope. I've used the word asshole more than twice since I met you and now, we're having desert for breakfast like some hooligans!"

"You're welcome. Now you're getting a little sexual action in your life." he pokes my shoulder. "I bet you've never been kissed."

I scoff at him. "You don't know that. I've had my first kiss. You weren't there when that Italian guy stuck his tongue down my throat." I lie right through my teeth. A clear example of how much of a bad influence Gray Easton is on me. He hums in response and perhaps I could have stopped right there but lying is addictive. I decide to continue, "we kissed in the movie theatre."

"Oh wow."

"Yep. We were sitting there, watching a romantic movie and we just kissed. We smooched so hard that we were kicked out of the theatre."

He lets out an over exaggerated, "No."

"Yes! His shirt even came off and he was swallowing my face." I cringe at the images I've created. I will be having nightmares tonight.

"Tell me more." He rests his elbow on the table, propping up his chin in his palm as he stares at me. "His name, age, height. Was he a good kisser? Oh my Gigi, don't tell me you screwed him in the theatre!"