Melted Ice Cream- EE
Today I had ice cream for the first time in eight months.
We sat down for lunch, circled by each other and the dark grey walls that huddled. The table was large and of a deep mocha, pulling you in and sinking you under. It was far too wide and much too long for our purposes, so we were pressed against the walls trying to place our chairs around the massive center. Still, I felt much too close for comfort.
When our leader entered she dropped our lunches on the counter. Boxed in recycled cardboard with grease seeping out the corners. “Cayla R. CheSand, Sa -SE” Cayla R. Cheese Sandwich, Salad -Supported Eating. Why did I feel so much shame from two letters, “SE?”
Why did I feel like I had been returned an essay with a giant “FAILED” stamped across the front page?
I took my box, emptied it onto my plate, and waited for the rest to do the same. We breathed a few times as she told us, looked at it forever, smelled it dangerously close, and took our bites of solidarity.
I had remembered this morning, almost as quickly as I woke, that today was ice cream day. I remembered how I felt as a child when the same was true. Ice cream day at school was full of celebration, reward, excitement, and ease. But today feels much different. Today is full of fear, punishment, nervousness, and tension. And for a moment, when we were midway through and no dessert had reached the counter, I thought maybe she’d forgotten and my heart could beat a glimmer.
Then quick as I had dreamed, the nightmare manifested. Cartons lined the counter, 10 of them in total, each a different flavor of which you've never heard. I set myself for the first picking, and scooped a flavor something like s'mores, but dairy free.
Back we went to find the deep-set divider, and sat to breathe once more. I threw myself into my chair so hard I think I stuck. My legs cemented to the floor. I watched the other spoons make their way into their bowls, dipping back to taste again, and then again once more. I shoved it quick into my mouth and dropped the spoon into my bowl. It sang a clink to speak its suddenness, and a tear fell from my eye. A warzone waged inside my mouth. The abrupt coldness alerted my cheeks, my teeth hated its presence. I felt the cream melt away and the chips fall on my tongue. Immediately I felt the urge to spit it from me. My throat was closing, thrusting forward, telling me to rid it. I squeezed my eyes, and tried my best to think of tomorrow's sun. And down went the ice cream, smooth as a broken road.
