Perfect Day for Ice Cream

“Did you know ice cream sales go up with murder rates?” He says between panting breaths.

“What are you even talking about?” I ask, trying to hide my annoyance. I step over a large boulder and stumble but catch myself. An injury this far up would not be good. Sweat pours down my forehead and stings my eyes. 

“Oh, I read that once. It was talking about correlation. The ice cream doesn’t really cause the murders of course, but the both go up with heat.” Alex says before taking a long drink from his water bottle. “You know when it’s hot people buy..”

“Yeah. No, I get it. Cool.” I take a drink too, grateful I didn’t have to be the one to suggest stopping. It is hot, the hottest day of the year according to the guy on the news this morning. I look ahead at the path. It’s thinner here, with downed branches and errant stones. Even on a nice day it doesn’t get much traffic, today it’s abandoned. Perfect. Trees grow thick on either side forming a tunnel ahead. Hopefully the shade will provide some relief. 

“You sure you don’t want to turn back?” He asks. Sweat glistens on his forehead and highlights his toned shoulders under his cutoff.  I wonder if the blue shirt was an intentional choice. I can just picture some ex or maybe his mom telling him it brings out his eyes. He is attractive in a conventional sort of way. But there’s no amount of muscles or beautiful blue eyes that could make me want him. 

Of course I want to turn back.  “No, we’re so close. The view is worth it, I promise.” I try to force a smile and keep walking. I knew he wouldn’t turn down my suggestion to hike Rising Rock trail. “It’s pretty challenging so if you’d rather do something easier…” I’d typed. Of course a guy like him couldn’t say no to that.

We are close. My heart pounds and I don’t know if it’s exhaustion or anticipation. Probably both. 

For a moment, I start to doubt this plan, the plan I’ve spent the last month laying the groundwork for. Ever since his picture popped up on that stupid dating app, it’s practically all I’ve thought about. He’d used a nickname and a last initial, but I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.  I’ve come this far, there’s no going back now. 

So I make myself think back further. To winter when I saw his picture for the first time. Those blue eyes caught my attention then too. Not because they were brought out by a sweaty blue shirt, but because something about them made me physically sick. The violence and anger mixed with something else, confidence. It was like he knew even then. He was untouchable.

And reading the attached article didn’t help. Some words stick with you even months later. “Extensive injuries” “domestic violence” and finally, “allegedly.”

“Jordan!” His voice booms and I stop myself from cowering. Is this how Lilly felt when he shouted her name? I spin on the heel of my hiking boot to face him. He’s way behind me now. He struggles over a series of thin makeshift log steps on the path I don’t even remember clearing.  “Slow down!” He says, smiling. His eyes squint under his white hat. 

“Oh, sorry. I guess I just got lost in thought.” I need to stay focused. Now is not the time to be distracted. The lookout is just ahead. Through the trees I see the wide expanse of blue sky. The sun is a bright orange ball in the sky giving everything a wavy distorted quality. 

“Come here, check out this view.” I step into the clearing and it is just as beautiful as I remember. Even more so today because we have the lookout to ourselves. I set down my water bottle and approach the edge. The ground is rocky but flat. There’s a tiny rope barrie, but if you ignore that and the warning sign, you can walk right up to the edge. I wouldn’t suggest looking down. I take a deep breath and take in the view. From here you can see miles of beautiful green trees on rolling hills, sharp rocky ledges below, even a lake that from here looks more like a puddle.

I feel him at my side, heat radiating from his arm to mine. He smells like sweat and outdoors with a hint of aftershave. His hand is on the inside of my wrist then tracing up my arm before sliding to my waist.

“One sec. I just need a drink of my water.” I lean in close and whisper.

And I do. I take a long drink. I could leave right now. The hike down is much easier than up. I’ll claim I didn’t feel the connection in person like I did online. Or I could chew him out - call him a disgusting, horrible person and vow to tell any girl he tries to date what scum he is. But I know that’s not enough. 

So this time I conjure other words that I read in the weeks following that first article. Words like “liar,” “gold digger,” and “his golden reputation.” I picture Lilly’s face, round eyes and tiny nose. I see the face of a fifth grader, because that’s how I remember her. Ten years ago when she was my student. Not an adult who can date an older “respected” doctor. One who can be called terrible things and threatened online. An adult who can recant. 

I walk toward him now, dropping the water bottle near the path so I don’t forget it. I place my hands on his hips and he turns to face me. As he turns to face me I smile and see his eyes flutter closed, his face leaning close to mine. I place my hands on his chest, lean in and push. With all my strength.

I don’t wait to see where he lands. It doesn’t matter. I am not even sure if he screams; my blood is rushing too loudly in my ears.

The hike down is much easier than the way up. It’s still long enough that by the time I exit the trail marked with a blue square and pop out at the beach my breath is heavy and my face red, but just because of the heat.

The sun is hanging low in the sky now, casting an orange glow across the lake. It should be starting to cool down, but it hasn’t yet. The wide sandy beach, usually packed with swimmers and sunbathers, is more sparse than usual. I spot the small brown building nestled between the black pavement parking lot and the beach and head that direction.

I pull out my phone, finally back in service now that I’m off the trail. Messages are coming in, but I ignore them to pull up the last thread to my best friend. I reread my last message from earlier today. “The guy didn’t show or maybe I missed him. Bummer. I’m going to hike the yellow trail and maybe hit the beach. Call ya later!”

She had only responded with a sad face and a heart. Perfect.

I hear a tinkling sound when I push through the glass doors to the small shop. I’m immediately hit with a cold wall of air that feels like bliss on my hot skin. I grab a water from the cooler and head toward the counter. Two rows of colorful circles under fluorescent lights catch my attention. Mmm ice cream.  “Can I get a single scoop of chocolate?”

I reach in my pack for some cash and turn back to the kid behind the counter, “Hey did you know that when ice cream sales go up so does…” I freeze, almost dropping the water from my hand, “um, temperatures.” I finish.