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“In the flesh,” I say as an ice cream brain freeze starts.
“Slow down, mister, or you’re gonna get brain freeze,” Aiden suggests.
I rub my forehead and then go back to eating. Three more teenagers come in and soon a whole crowd is watching me.
I look at the clock on the wall. I have ten minutes left to finish this thing.
“You gonna make it?” Isa asks.
I look at what is seemingly a normal-sized sundae left in the long bowl. I nod. I’m committed now.
I start devouring it, bite by bite. The kids cheer as I swallow the very last puddle of ice cream in the bowl.
Leo rings a bell over the cash register. “We have a winner, folks!” He comes around with an old Polaroid camera, takes my photo with the empty bowl, and presents me with a certificate for 10 free ice cream cones. “Isa’s sundae is on the house too. Hope to see you again soon, kid,” Leo says before helping some other customers.
The teenagers are chanting, “Wellington. Wellington. Wellington.”
“Wow, thirty minutes here and you’ve become a town hero,” Isa teases.
I hold my belly. “I’m not feeling like one,” I announce.
Isa bites her lip. “Sorry…you may be going into a sugar and lactose coma. We should probably get you something to soak it up,” she muses.
“I don’t think I can eat for another day,” I state.
She pauses, purses her lips, and then smiles. “I have an idea.”
“Thanks, Leo,” she calls out as she grabs my hand.
This ought to be good.
CHAPTERTWENTY
Isa
I open the door to Main Street Arcade and Indoor Golf. It’s a fun new property housed in an old department store building. Three floors of games and indoor golf.
“Wow. When did this place open?” Adam asks.
I smile. “Two years ago. I’ve only been a few times when Elisha drags me out. They have a bar up by the indoor golf area.”
Adam looks mildly impressed as I lead him up two escalators to the top floor. The lights are dimmed up here and everything is lit up by black lights and glow-in-the-dark paint.
Adam places a credit card down. “My treat,” he says with a smile.
“If you insist,” I reply.
We grab putters and balls and head to hole number one.
“I have to warn you, I play golf,” Adam says.
I roll my eyes. “I have to warn you, I spent summers working part-time at one of the mini-golf places down by the beach,” I reply.
“Well, then, shall we wager?” he asks, raising a suggestive eyebrow.
I laugh and shake my head. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Mr. Wellington,” I tease.
“I don’t think I will. I win, you spend the next two nights with me,” he says.
