“Listen, come out of the freezer.
Like really, how did you even fit in there?” Rico asked, wondering how it was
possible for a teenage boy to fit inside a freezer at a local Albertson’s.
“I used to hide from my older
brother in the linen closet. I can fit anywhere,” boasted Adam.
“Look, people are staring and I
don’t even understand how what I did had offended you.”
“I am lactose intolerant. You are
not supposed to buy someone who clearly suffers from lactose intolerance
flipping Bluebell ice cream. Do you know what kind of chemicals they put inside
of Bluebell ice cream?” Adam snapped.
“Adam, listen to me. The ice cream
was not for you. I put it in the shopping cart so that I can have it for later.
You shove your lactose-intolerance-ness down my throat all the time. Believe me, I know.”
Adam glared at Rico through the
glass. He was obviously shivering, though he was trying to hide his coldness
from Rico.
“Come on, Adam. Please get out of
the freezer,” Rico begged.
“Not until you put back that
disgrace you call dessert,” Adam spat.
“I don’t have time for this,” Rico
said as he pulled open the freezer door, and because he was much bigger than he, put Adam in the shopping cart, and
went to the checkout line. Adam crossed his arms and refused to acknowledge
anything Rico had to say. Not to mention that Rico did enjoy his bowl of Bluebell ice cream later on that evening to Adam's disgust.
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