North had six months of nothing. No plans. No purpose. No escape. Maybe I should take summer classes? The thought lingered, brief comfort in the emptiness. He craved knowledge like a thirst that couldn't be quenched, a hunger the world seemed intent on keeping from him. His bosses' words rang in his ears: "You're still innocent. You'll understand when you're older."
But I'm twenty-two. I'm old enough. Why won't they tell me?
Impulsively, he signed up for an online summer class. Maybe this will finally satisfy me.
A month later, the satisfaction had vanished. The lessons were familiar echoes of high school, shallow repetitions of things he already knew. Frustration gnawed at him until he quit. Do they all teach the same thing? Is the world keeping something from me?
Restless, North drifted through a mall, drawn by a pull he couldn't name. Pink light spilled from a small parlor, and suddenly he was somewhere else entirely. Pastels, whimsical characters, Hello Kitty, unicorns… the place was absurdly sweet, almost unreal. Most of the patrons were high school girls, laughing, carefree. And yet something about it felt… off.
"Hi, sir. May I take your order?"
North didn't like ice cream, but his hands moved before his mind could stop them.
"Two chocolate flavors. Add sprinkles and chocolate chips. A large cup."
"Large? Make it two please" a voice beside him asked.
He turned. The girl—he knew her, though he didn't know how he knew her. The one from the Swamp. And yet now, here, she was… different. Uncannily beautiful. Thin lips that hinted at secrets, eyes wide and knowing, a nose that caught the light in a strange, almost deliberate way. Her expression was calm, but he couldn't read it.
"Stop staring," she said, softly, but not harshly. "I might melt."
"Uh… you… you were…" His voice faltered.
"Glad you remember me," she said, glancing at the counter as if he didn't exist. "Nice seeing you."
He studied her. Her smile was real but fleeting, like a reflection in water. Why does she feel like a puzzle I can't solve?
"You ordered all this for yourself?" he asked, gesturing toward the oversized cup.
"No," she said, enigmatic. "It's for both of us. Don't worry—it's my treat."
"Wait… I didn't—"
"Think of it as… Thanksgiving," she murmured, a small laugh in her voice. A laugh that seemed to hide more than it revealed.
The tray arrived. He took it, drawn by some unspoken weight.
"Thanks," she said. "Where shall we sit?"
Her gaze swept the room, lingering just long enough to make him feel watched. She pointed to a quiet corner. "There."
North followed, a strange mixture of curiosity and unease knotting his stomach. She began eating, and he watched, fascinated—not by the ice cream, but by her. The way she moved, the way she existed in that moment without revealing anything.
"Hey," she said softly. "Why are you staring?"
"Uh… nothing."
She turned toward him, a tilt of her head. "First time?"
His stomach lurched. How does she know?
"Your face… it says everything," she said lightly.
Can she read me? His mind raced, spiraling between disbelief and awe.
"Come on," she said, leaning just slightly closer. "Eat. It won't hurt. Or do you want me to feed you?"
He hesitated, then finally tasted the ice cream. Sweet, cold, comforting. And yet… nothing could shake the tension thrumming in his chest. Why does she feel like a key to a door I can't open?
"Tastes good, right?" she asked, eyes studying him with an unreadable intensity.
He nodded, unable to look away.
Thank you for saving me
That was what inside the girl's head, though her expression revealed nothing. North didn't know the truth: she had followed him that day, drawn to him like a magnet, because in her eyes he had been… a lifeline.
I was on the edge… ready to disappear. Then you appeared.
"Yes," she murmured, almost to herself. "The world is unfair. But maybe… not so bad."
North tilted his head, confused. "The world is unfair?"
"Well…" She hesitated, and for a brief moment, vulnerability flickered across her face. Then it was gone. "I don't think you live in the same world I do. You don't… know. Not yet."
North felt it again—the gnawing hunger, the need to understand, to pierce the mystery that was her. What else don't I know? What secrets is she keeping?
And just like that, the ice cream parlor—pink, whimsical, absurd—felt like the beginning of something far larger, something he had no map for