Maybe California would be great. Maybe it was going to be a fun experience, swimming in the ocean sea, serving ice cream (maybe getting some free), and laughing at something a new friend joked about.

Ooor maybe I’m just trying to make myself feel better, and it’ll actually be a snoozefest where I get frostbite after I swam in the all-too-cold waters, serve melted ice cream that I get annoyed at because it likes to stick to my hands, and then become all depressed because I’d be without any sidekicks. Or sidekick, for that matter.

But on the other hand, I could possibly join new clubs and become the new and improved Ray that I’ve always wanted to become!

Never mind that sorry to burst your bubble, positive side of me, but that ain’t gonna happen because I know for a fact that this won’t be fun...

At.

All.

I went back and forth about these thoughts while flying to California where I would meet my practical stranger of an uncle, and begin a new fresh life as a senior in high school.

The flight went smoothly, but right when I got off of that plane I realized with a jolt that I was going to have to confront the uncle I hadn’t seen or made jokes in my head about for three whole years.

And it didn’t help that I was required to work at my dad’s ice cream shop, Sprinkles and Cream, as part of the deal.

A deal, you ask?

Allow me to paint the picture for you, and explain.

I was a young freshman, always having the time to push my glasses back up my nose. Even with the drag of school and complaining about my way too spaced-out front teeth, I had dreams, and one of those was to make my senior year a blast. (yeah, I started thinking about that as a freshman... well, I guess it could be worse- okay back to the story...)

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

EHEM!

Where was I? Oh yes. I was determined to make my senior year a blast.

Enter, my ear-bleeding pleading.

Yup. It took three years to get my parents to sign off on this part of the equation, and I hadn’t even told them my spectacular evil plan yet.

I was to live the dream. Go to California, become the most popular girl in my new school, and hopefully, get my life back on track.

Then, everything crashed into me like a thick brick wall when my parents informed me about this ‘compromise’ they were giving me if they were to agree, and I was to go.

I’d have to work at my long-lost Uncle’s ice cream shop.

Well great, now I had to cross the hurdles of going there and trying to win over the entire school and town for that matter, seeing an uncle that hadn’t even crossed my mind since the beginning of my freshman year, and having to be bossed by him from 9 - 5, washing my hands every ten seconds because the ice cream melted on my hand and I just couldn’t take the stickiness of it.

Great. Just great.

Unfortunately for me, my parents took my silence as a yes before kidnapping me in my sleep to drop me off at the airport and plop me on the plane without any single sign of remorse.

Yay.

To inform you, I was utterly thrilled about this... and please tell me you heard the dripping sarcasm.

I stroll along the sidewalk with my suitcase and duffle bag in hand, slowly making my way towards the ice cream shop that sat on the corner of the block. From my vision, I can see already see that I’m in for a lot.

The walls are bright pink, and there are blue, white, and pink faerie lights that line the bay windows out front. A large ice cream cone sits on the top with the ice cream sat on top of the roof.

"Ray?"

I look around wildly for who was calling me. To be honest, I probably looked stupid because I was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, my arm cramping up because I'm trying to hold my duffle bag and roll my suitcase along at the same time.

I felt my arm hit against something and I grimaced before rubbing my arm, hoping to tell that something or someone that I wasn't going to flinch at their stupid games. I flicked my hair behind my back and turned my head to face the perpetrator.

That's when I saw him.

The uncle I hadn't seen for three years.