The Summer We Left Behind

I was staying with my dad for the summer, and I decided to get a job until I went back home with Mom.

I always stayed with Dad during the summer, and it was always magical. My dad lived in a small town, while I lived in a big city, so it was a nice change.

Anyway, I stayed at Dad's for a few weeks before finally finding a summer job. Eventually, I got an offer to start working in May.

The time finally rolled around. It was May 10th.

I started my first shift at the ice cream parlor down the street. It was called Jones Ice Cream. It was locally owned, and they only needed help for a few months during the summer.

I expected nothing from this job. Nothing special. Nothing interesting. Just another summer job.

Plus, all my friends were away traveling for the summer, so I thought this would give me something to do.

Boy, was I wrong, because it ended up being the most special summer ever.

If you're wondering what the ice cream parlor looked like, I can tell you. It looked like it was straight out of the '80s, with warm lighting, bright colors, and delicious ice cream flavors. They even had a little arcade attached to it.

The family who owned it had been running it for 50 years.

Anyway, on my first day, I was greeted by the owner, Mr. Pat Jones.

Mr. Pat told us not to call him "Mr." because it made him feel old, so we all just called him Pat, which was short for Patrick.

Pat was a short man with a bald head and a beer belly, but he was kind, and he let the staff eat as much free ice cream as they wanted.

On my first day, four other young people and I went through training with Pat. He mainly talked about scheduling, breaks, and customer service.

He joked that since it was an ice cream parlor and we were temporary workers, his only expectations were for us to show up on time, be kind, and eat as much ice cream as we wanted.

I could tell this was going to be a fun summer.

During training, Pat made us go around the room and say a fun fact about ourselves.

I'm a shy person, so those "say a fun fact about yourself" exercises always make me nervous.

In fact, I stuttered trying to say mine.

My fun fact was that I got my tonsils removed when I was ten.

It was the only thing I could think of.

How cool, right?!?!

Everyone else was talking with each other. Usually, I don't make friends easily because I'm so introverted.

I thought to myself, You're only here for the summer, Ember. You don't need to make friends. You have friends back home.

After training, Pat sent us home for the day with free ice cream, of course.

He told us to come back by 11 a.m. sharp tomorrow to start our first official day.

I walked home because my dad lived down the street.

My dad worked a lot. He owned a business, so he usually wasn't home, but I didn't mind because he left me his credit card to order food.

I headed home, immediately turned on the TV, and ordered a pizza.

This must be what dreams are made of, I thought.

After a few hours, I headed to the bedroom my dad had assigned to me.

My dad lived alone in a four-bedroom ranch-style home. I didn't know what that man needed all that space for.

However, I didn't question it.

I fell asleep around 11 p.m. because, for some reason, I was nervous and excited to start at the ice cream parlor.

It was like I felt something or someone was waiting for me.

I hadn't felt this way since I met my ex-boyfriend back home.

Weird, right?

Sometimes your intuition just knows that you're going to meet someone special or that something special is going to happen.

I woke up at 10 a.m., brushed my teeth and hair, showered, sprayed on my mom's cheap perfume, and put on my uniform.

Then I headed down to the ice cream parlor.

You couldn't miss the place because the outside was blue and green. There was also a nice walking path behind it, with lovely green trees and a little pond.

I walked in and saw that my coworkers had already started working.

Pat said we were all assigned jobs for our time at the parlor.

Matt and I were assigned to ice cream scooping, Claire was assigned to cashiering, and Cortez was assigned to cleaning and dishwashing.

Which was the job I was hoping to get.

Oh well.

Oh God, I thought. I'm shy, and I'm going to be stuck scooping freaking ice cream next to the same guy for a few months. I don't even know how to talk to people.

The worst part was that Matt was social and loved to talk.

I hope he doesn't expect much conversation from me.

Our first day was good. It was nice seeing kids get ice cream with their parents and watching their faces light up.

I actually liked being a scooper at Jones Ice Cream.

Matt would tell every customer a joke.

He had long, dark hair and big brown eyes. He also had a tattoo of a scorpion on his arm.

He was mysterious but warm.

You don't really meet people like that often.

Nothing too interesting was happening in my life. I didn't have friends there, and Dad was never home, so I usually walked along the path behind Jones.

Sometimes, I spent time in the arcade.

Then I'd go home, eat pizza, and watch TV.

Back home, I ran track. I thought about how all the pizza and TV watching after 6 p.m. couldn't be good for me.

A few days passed, and every day started to feel the same.

Scoop, walk, eat, repeat.

I was starting to think this was boring, and I couldn't wait to go home.

Until May 25th.

Two guys came in at 6 p.m., right before the parlor closed.

You could tell they were drunk, and they looked a bit unkempt. They were college-aged, so I assumed they were there for the summer, too.

Despite them being drunk and a little unkempt, I didn't expect any drama.

I started scooping their ice cream, and one guy kept giving me a hard time.

First, he said I gave him the wrong flavor.

Then he said I touched his ice cream.

Lastly, he said I hadn't scooped enough.

And then he threw the ice cream at me.

I started crying, and he and his friend started laughing.

Matt, who was leaving a few minutes early, came over and asked me what was wrong.

"Nothing," I said.

But he saw the ice cream on my face and the two boys laughing.

Matt was a tall, skinny guy. However, he had the confidence of a linebacker.

He walked up to the two boys and asked them what was so funny.

They got mad.

One guy tried to throw a punch, but he was so drunk that he missed.

Matt pushed him to the ground and started hitting him.

I was wiping ice cream and tears off my face, debating whether to call the cops.

Pat came out and kicked the two boys out. He told them they could never come back again.

After the ordeal, I was embarrassed and kept apologizing to Pat.

He told me those boys were stupid, not to worry about them, and that if they came back, he would handle it.

By this time, it was past closing, and I started walking home.

As I was walking, Matt saw me.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, thanking him.

He asked if I needed a ride.

At first, I said no because it was such a quick walk.

However, he insisted on taking me home.

And I could never say no to long, dark hair and big brown eyes.

So I got in.

He was playing Arctic Monkeys in his old Dodge Charger.

He dropped me off, and as I got out of the car, Matt told me that as long as he was around, he wouldn't let anyone mess with me.

I walked into the house and headed straight to bed, thinking about what had just happened.

WTF?

And then I fell asleep.

I went back to the parlor the next day, and Matt greeted me.

"Hey, Ember. Wanna take our break together later?"

"Yeah," I said.

Around break time, we walked along the path, and Matt told me he was only there for the summer, too.

He was from NYC, which explained the confidence and aura.

As we walked, I kept staring at him.

Maybe it was because he was the first person to stand up for me, but he was truly a beautiful and magnificent man.

We walked back, and he held the door open for me.

Suddenly, our shift ended, and I rode home with him again.

We listened to The Neighbourhood, and he told me, "Hey, Ember, you know I really like taking you home."

I thanked him.

A few more weeks passed, and he was still taking me home.

By this time, it was June 10th, and the ice cream parlor was busier than ever.

Every day during our breaks, Matt and I walked together and talked about politics, sports, and family.

On this particular day, I was especially clumsy.

I fell into the pond, and Matt grabbed me.

He laughed.

"EM! You've gotta be more careful. I won't always be here to save you."

I laughed, too.

But that was some bad foreshadowing, for sure.

Matt invited me to the movies, and I said yes.

I asked him if this meant we were friends yet.

He said yes.

I was excited.

We planned to go to the movies on Saturday around 3 p.m. Matt said he would pick me up.

Saturday rolled around, and I was all dressed up.

I curled my hair and sprayed on Mom's cheap perfume.

Matt pulled up, his long hair blowing in the wind.

"Hey, Em. What movie do you want to see?"

I joked, "Something scary so you can hold me."

He laughed.

"Okay."

We got to the theater and watched some stupid zombie movie.

We laughed like kids, loudly and unashamed, and I hadn't felt this way in a while.

Matt drove me home afterward.

Before I got out, he yelled, "Em! Let's do this again!"

"Matt, let me pick the movie next time. But yes, let's do it again."

He giggled, and I saw his perfect smile.

I thought to myself, Maybe he was the special feeling I had coming for me.

I could tell this wasn't going to end well.

It never does.

Matt and I continued taking our walks together every day, and he never shut up.

I loved it.

He always had something to say.

Scooping ice cream next to him wasn't so bad anymore.

We had our next date planned.

The fair this time.

Again, Saturday, but at 6 p.m.

I wore a dress in his favorite color, green, to match my eyes.

We got to the fair, and Matt said, "Em, I'm gonna win you a bear!"

I laughed.

"Matt, it's not that serious—"

Before I could finish, he was already at the stand trying to win me a bear.

And he did.

A big brown bear.

He knew bears were my favorite animals.

It was late June, so it was windy but also hot.

Matt asked, "Em, which ride do you want to go on?"

I told him a secret.

I was scared of roller coasters.

He didn't laugh.

Instead, he grabbed my hand and picked a ride where we could sit next to each other.

He grabbed my hand again, and we ran toward it.

I took a deep breath.

"Em, you're gonna be fine."

We got on, and I grabbed his hand.

I was scared shitless.

However, seeing Matt smile so big made it worth it.

We left the fair, and he took me home.

I wanted to kiss him.

God, I wanted to.

But I didn't do it.

Before I got out of his car, he said, "Em, you looked beautiful tonight, and I loved being with you."

I thought to myself, Maybe this is the best summer I've ever had.

The Fourth of July rolled around, and Matt asked if I wanted to see fireworks after work.

He said his friend's family had a lake house about 30 minutes away.

I said yes.

We went to see the fireworks and blasted old '80s songs in the car.

Not only was Matt beautiful, but he could sing.

In the car, I thought about how I never wanted this feeling to end.

Going 60 mph with Matt in a Charger.

What else could be more perfect?

We arrived, and Matt's friends immediately put beers in both of our hands.

I'd never drunk before, but Matt drank his like water.

Speaking of water, Matt jumped into the lake and winked at me to get in.

So I did.

I'd brought a big T-shirt with me just for this moment.

As we jumped in, the fireworks started.

Big, beautiful fireworks.

The water was cold, and Matt could tell because he asked if I wanted to go into his friend's house and get a towel.

I chuckled and said yes.

We went inside, and he found me a towel.

We sat near a heater.

He told me how good I looked all wet.

I couldn't help myself.

I leaned in for a kiss.

He kissed me back.

Next thing you know, we were on his friend's couch making out.

Before things could go any further, his friend opened the door, and we both jumped like two kids caught stealing cookies.

The night was perfect, but I told Matt I was tired.

So we drove back home.

As I got out of the car, Matt looked at me.

"Em, this night was perfect."

He kissed me a few more times, and I invited him inside.

He said yes.

We watched TV, and then we hooked up.

I won't go into detail, but it was perfect.

He fell asleep, and we woke up and went to Jones Ice Cream like nothing had happened.

By this time, people were asking if we were dating.

I didn't answer because we technically weren't.

All I knew was that I wanted Matt, this town, and summer to never end.

The rest of the summer was going well.

Matt and I hung out every weekend.

Things were good.

"I don't want to go back home in August," I told Matt.

He said he didn't either.

I told him I'd visit him in NYC, and he told me how great that sounded.

It was late July, and Matt looked at me by the pond.

He told me he would never forget this summer.

Or me.

It felt off because he was usually joking, but this time he sounded serious.

I leaned in to kiss him near the pond, and we walked back holding hands.

The first week of August rolled around, and I noticed Matt hadn't been at work in a few days.

I texted him, but my messages weren't going through.

I would've driven or walked to his house, but he'd only ever been to mine.

I asked Pat where Matt had gone.

He looked at me with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ember. Matt went back home. He won't be back."

I was hurt, shocked, and confused.

How could the boy I'd spent all summer getting to know leave without a word?

I was pissed.

We were both supposed to be going home in two weeks, and he'd promised we would stay in touch.

How could he do this?

He said he would buy my plane ticket to NYC.

And now he was gone.

Was he ever even real?

I spent my last two weeks sad and alone at the parlor.

It was hard to even walk in there without Matt.

The parlor was cold, empty, and lonely without him.

No late-night drives. No kisses on the walking path. No nothing.

The parlor was just like me.

Empty, cold, and alone.

Matt had brought sunshine into the parlor and into my life, only to leave like a tornado.

Destructive and unpredictable.

The place that once felt so magical now felt like somewhere I couldn't wait to escape.

The best summer of my life had become the worst.

On the flight back home, I cried.

Mom asked me what was wrong, but I couldn't tell her.

I knew one thing now.

Sometimes love is short and painful.

And that was the story of Matt and me.

Months passed, and he never reached out.

I sent over thirty text messages and made countless calls.

No response.

I don't know where he went or why.

But I realized something.

I could love someone and move on.

I had to.