A week before school

I stand on the end of the pier with my cousin

We have ice cream that tastes only of sugar

Lick it in circles round and round

Lights from the shops on the causeway

Twinkle plaintively in the dark water

Winks of white amongst waves of black

Swimming silently into oblivion

Motorcycles rev, crickets chirp

We lick and lick down to the cone

“Will middle school be okay?” he asks

I take a bite of soggy cone and pause

Memories of tests I cried over, of infectious laughs

Swirl around around my head, melting and mixing;

Mean cliques and toxic classmates

Birthday messages with balloons taped to lockers

Another bite

A cool breeze wraps around the pier

A car honks on the street

“It’ll be all right”