Chapter 1 : Throwing Waffle Cones.
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A/N: I edited this. You guys can re-read it or something but the plot didn't change, really so it's okay if you don't.
I’m having a bad morning.
But then, I’ve been having bad mornings since three months ago when everything that is crappy decided to crash down on my face. And to think that since then, I could’ve learned how to duck and avoid it but nope.
From that day forward, I just got more crap than I could clean off.
And forcing me to work in this sickly hellhole doesn’t make anything better at all.
But my Dad says in builds character. Ha, builds character my arse. For all I know, he just wants us out of the house while he does his thingies.
Not that I completely think it’s a bad idea. I mean, Mr. Fortescue is a really nice chap.
Slightly crazed but tolerable. And I’ve been taking this summer job since I was thirteen wherein, back then, we get free ice creams and fifteen sickles an hour.
Now it got better. In addition to those free ice creams were now three galleons per hour.
And three galleons an hour is just, wow. I don’t know who advised him to raise our paycheck but it’s hard not to love that old person now that he’s being generous. Too generous, actually. So bless you, Fortescue (It rhymes—get it? Get it?).
But that didn’t hide the fact that it’s one of the barmiest and suckiest jobs.
And despite that three glittering gold coins, I still hate it.
Especially if you add my co-workers to this stupid recipe: Germinatia Seed and Tristan Trite.
Germinatia, who by the way, will murder you if you call her that (I truly agree. I mean, who the fuck would name their kid Germinatia? If my parents even tried to name that, I’ll bury myself. ALIVE.) is cranky, bitter and cranky and bitter. Ice cream-wise, she could be the most bitter-tasting flavor in history.
Okay, I’m really not the one to judge because I have…ahem, issues bubbling out like lava, myself. You know what? I’ll save me for later.
What I’m saying is, Ger is completely different. It’s really the way she is. Cynical. Full of hate. Gothic. And trust me, you’ll prefer her that way. Anyway, I just think it’s the most unsuitable job for her. I mean, placing her in a sickly-sweet-happiness-overload ice cream shop? Why?
On the other hand, there’s Tristan a.k.a. the most annoying bloke on the planet. Period. Tristan is truthfully, a fine overly enthusiastic person that I am tempted to smack down to the ground right now.
“Do you hear me? I’m talking to you.”Okay, one thing about Tristan is he never stops singing. He sings while he cleans. He sings while fixing things. He even has this sing-song tone when he speaks! I’m clearly having enough of it.
“Trite.” I said warningly, putting my hair up in a messy bun and grabbing my ice cream cap, which has a face and arms that waves around magically. Stupid hat.
“Yes, Jazzy Snazzy?” he said, looking over to me and flipping his hair.
He ignored me and tried to rack his brains, probably for another song, before shrugging and continued his previous song.
Slamming my face on the counter suddenly seemed like a bright idea. Although I very much prefer slamming his.
You see the thing here is, I used to think I’m the most appropriate person for this job (Tristan could do but he’ just…too much.) until three months ago.
I really prefer not to talk about it.
“Shit blows.” Ger said as she entered the shop and removed her black jacket.
“Morning, Germina—Ger.” Tristan said, nervously stopping before Seed could kill him.
I, meanwhile, just waved sulkily.
Mr. Fortescue emerged from the freezer section.
“All here, everyone?” he said cheerfully.
Oh God, here goes that cheerful optimistic pathetic excuse for a speech, again.
“Well, remember, we are all past those dark days. We all deserve some light in our ways. And in simple ways, we can help everyone like serving ice cream—the best ice cream ever—from the bottom of our hearts. So, why don’t we chant together?”
“Smile!” Tristan said brightly.
“Be bright.” I said dully.
“…” Ger rolled her eyes and got lost at the back of the counter.
Mr. Fortescue looked at her disappearing figure, crestfallen. “And serve them right.” He finished for her awkwardly.
Yup, very much looking forward to this summer at Fortescue’s.
* * *
“Can I have a creamy vanilla ice cream with those colorful sprinkles and chocolate chips placed on a glass unicorn?” an irritating know-it-all looking girl said.
Do we even have those?
“Not available.” I replied.
“Oh. So can I have chocolate caramel instead?”
“Cone or cup?” I asked before shushing Tristan, who was going on a song again, up.
I looked at her as though she was crazy. “What? You’re gonna lick it in your hand?!” I asked incredulously.
“No,” she said indignantly. “I thought you have those unicorn glass bowls!”
I scratched the back of my head. I knew it was a bad idea to be in the counter today.
“Or Pegasus! You know, that pink pony with wings,” she said snottily
“Pegasus isn’t pink. It’s black.” I argued.
“It’s pink. How stupid can you be?!” she said, sneering at me.
DID THAT GIRL JUST-?!
“No, it’s not. It’s not even a pony. It’s a horse. How much of an idiot can you be?” I jabbed back.
She gasped dramatically. “Oh yeah? How much of a moron can you be? Huh? Oh wait, you’re the moronest of all!”
That’s it. I’m officially hating children.
“Well, news flash sister, there’s no such word as moronest. Now, who were we talking about again?”
The girl huffed. “You think you can beat me just because you’re taller and older but I know you, you’re the pathetic one who got cheated by her boyfriend! Loser!”
That stops right there, kiddo. You’ve touched a nerve.
“OH SO YOU THINK YOU”RE SO SMART? WELL, I KNOW YOU TOO. YOU’RE THE SLYTHERIN WHO ISN’T—“I yelled.
“Miss Preston!” Mr. Fortescue said, appalled.
Hey, everyone knows I’ve got issues.
The customers gave me shocked looks.
Or well, most of them do.
“Rule number 1, Miss Preston. Rule number 1! No shouting! Especially not in the cheeriest place in Diagon Alley! Now wear your cap and apologize! Don’t forget to smile!” he hissed at me.
I placed my cap and gave him a fake smile.
My life is so ironic.
Mr. Fortescue went back inside somewhere and I told the girl her free ice cream is coming up. She smirked smugly and went off.
Gah, Slytherins. I knew there was a reason to hate them.
I turned around and rested my back on the counter.
Tristan came out smirking as he placed the ice cream on the counter to be served.
“I’m not even saying anything.”
“You just did, you wanker.”
He stuck out his tongue at me.
I shook my head in disbelief, and then decided to ask, “Does everyone really know everything?”
Tristan shrugged. “I think so.”
“But that’s a kid.” I reasoned out. “Oh God, even kids know. I seriously want to slam my head on the counter right now.”
“I don’t know,” Tristan said brightly. “Can you tell me?”
I glared at him.
“No, really, I wanna hear the story,” he said as innocently as possible. “I mean, did James Potter really cheat on you?”
I groaned inwardly. How pathetic can I be? My best friend since forever a.k.a. the James Potter eventually became my boyfriend and unbelievably cheated on me. Do I really deserve this? Am I being punished or something? I mean, what did I even do?!
“Bastards cheat. Bitches cheat. It’s common sense.” Ger said suddenly, taking the trayof ice cream. “Apparently, you seem to lack on that department, Preston. Just saying.” She shrugged and went off to serve.
I sighed. Beating up Germinatia isn’t in my vocabulary right now. Or is never going to be in. If you’ve seen her, you’d know.
“Tell me, is she really born that way?” Tristan said, casually draping an arm around me. “But well, she’s got a point, Jasmine. Offensive, yeah, but true.”
I practically threw daggers at him with my eyes. Oh, if looks could only kill.
He chuckled to lighten the mood. “Better get going then, Snazzy Jazzy, see you later!" He stuffed his hands in his pockets and got going. “I’M LUCKY I’M IN LOVE WITH MY BESTFRIIIEEEND!!” He trilled in a singsong voice.
I threw a box of waffle cones at his back. “Must you?” I called out.
He grinned at me goofily and picked up the box and threw it back at me. I quickly caught it and laughed. I was still enjoying the moment when the customer bell rang.
I quickly turned around and smiled.
Speak of the Devil.
My smile quickly dissolved.
“Hey,” James Potter said. “How are you doing?”
Okay, um, fuck. I’m going to cry. No! I’m not going to cry. NO NO NO NO—Gathering myself together, I said “Fine.”
“That’s great then.” He commented, his eyes unreadable.
“I know.” I said monotonously. “Is there anything I can get you?”
More importantly, Why the hell are you here?
He smiled. There was fakeness to it. “Two Banana Splits, please.” he said nonchalantly.
For a moment, just a teensy moment, I thought he was going to excuse me from work and treat me my favorite ice cream just like we always do back then. But a pretty brunette walked in beside him and squeezed his hand and reality thumped the back of my head hard enough that I was seeing water in my eyes.
Circe, I can’t believe I did it again. I can’t believe I made up something in my mind again. I can’t believe everything’s going to be fine again and mostly, I can’t believe I even thought that it’s going to be. I am a total fucked up loser.
“Right,” I croaked then cleared my throat. “Right, coming up,” I turned to leave and disappear FORVER but—
“Oh, Jas,” James suddenly called out.
“Yeah?” I tried to say in the cheeriest way I can.
“Well,” he started awkwardly. “This is Holly. Holly Hastings. Just thought you’d like to...”
I. DO. NOT. GIVE. A. SHIT.
“Oh,” Pretty brunette Holly Hastings said, showing off her perfect white teeth. “You must be Jasmine, Jasmine Preston, right? You’re James’s ex.”
“Yeah,” I said as calmly as possible. The super-awesome-mega-foxy-hotter than you EX, don’t you belittle me. Gah, who am I kidding? Of course, she’s way hotter than me. I don’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore, which makes everything much more badly.
“Nice to meet you, then.” She said, looking all sweet and sickly.
Did anyone mention I’m narrow-minded?
“You too, Hailey” I said, uncomfortably.
“Oh, it’s HOLLY,” she said brightly.
“Sorry,” I said, not meaning it at all. “I have to go then, loads of work to do,”
I walked out before they even get to say something. I suddenly felt myself radiating with rage. So, that’s what he does, dating girls in the last three months. Meanwhile, I, was totally lonely and depressed on what happened. How dare he even ask on how was I doing when he literally abandoned me?!
I pulled my hair in frustration.
“Is that Holly Hastings with your ex?” Ger said, suddenly appearing. Her purple streaked hair tied up in a ponytail.
“Well, what a son-of-a—“
I cut off, grunting.
“Hey,” Tristan said, appearing beside Ger. “Is that Holly Hastings with Potter?”
I grunted again. I could grunt forever and go live in a cave.
“Whoa, wicked.” He commented. “No one ever got Holly Hastings on a date. Potter must’ve been really lucky.”
Ger rolled her eyes. “Well, she’s a bitch. I don’t like her.”
Snort. I actually love you, Germinatia.
“Yeah but she’s waaay foxy. For some guys, being some bitch doesn’t really matter.” Tristan said, wolf-whistling.
And he tries to get my sister on a date.
I glared at him.
“But what I’m saying is I’m not that kind of guy. I treat girls like porcelain. They’re very fragile.” He quickly amended.
Ger snorted. “Yeah, and porcelain is what toilets are made of. Stop shitting Trite.”
“I’m so sorry, Jazzy,” Tristan said, falling to his knees and grabbing my hand. “I’m very true to your sister! I mean, I promise I will be, Jazzy! I’m really, really sorry. Please don’t tell Jo I said Holly Hastings is foxy.”
Who even says the word foxy, anymore? I hastily pulled my hand away from him.
“Shut up, Tristan, for the last time.” I said, wiping my hand on his apron. “And who cares if Hailey Ho Hastings is waaay foxy?!” I said, imitating the way Tristan said it.
“Um,” Ger said thoughtfully. “Let me guess…You.” She pointed.
I scoffed. “Me? Nuh-uh. No way. I’m so over Potter. It’s been three months already. And I think I’m moving on.”
Merlin’s pink streaked beard, I’m a wreck. And a liar. A bad one, by the way.
“Oh, so…this doesn’t bother you at all?” Ger said, pointing to Potter and Hailey Ho’s table where…they were making kissy faces at each other.
“No,” I said calmly. “Not at all,”
WHAT THE HELL?! REALLY?! IN THE SHOP I WORK ON??? WHY DON’T THEY JUST GET A ROOM AND DO THEIR BUSINESS?? FIRST, THE INTRODUCTION, NOW, THIS?! WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOU PEOPLE?!! WHAT ARE YOU SO INTENT ON PROLONGING MY SUFFERING?!!
“Really,” Ger said skeptically.
“Yes,” I squeaked. “Really—NO, OF COURSE IT BOTHERS ME, SEED! That’s my ex-boyfriend out there! With his whoever girl—”
“Holly Hastings,” Tristan supplied.
“I DON”T CARE!” I bellowed at him, “And he’s about to snog her at this sickly ice cream shop I work in!” I breathed out heavily and took a glance at my co-workers. Tristan was cringing and Germinatia was smirking.
Mr. Fortescue came into view. “Teenagers! My, what wrecks you all are!” he said, his voice shaking. “Are you planning on giving elder people like us heart attacks?! Such disgrace, you all are! People are starting to wonder what in heaven is going on here! Why are you all shouting?! This is a no-shouting place! How many times do I heave to tell you?! If you won’t do your job properly, I will be forced to contact your parents.” He hissed, disappearing again and cursing under his breath.
Tristan quickly went to the freezer section and Ger put her Fortescue apron back.
I took a glance at Potter and Ho Hastings again.
“My, Jasmine Preston, you are one ice-cream flavored jealous woman,” she commented, smirking and walking away.
I threw waffle cones at her disappearing figure.
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