Vanilla Bliss.

I was sort of inspired by the WWC (24) Days of Summer thing, and so I wrote this at 1:30 last night. Or rather, this morning.
I'm thinking the title should be Cherry Kisses and Vanilla Bliss. [It's set in an ice cream shoppe called Vanilla Bliss.]

I twirled the stem of the maraschino cherry between my fingers, gazing outside at the least opportune time imaginable. Because at that moment, Caleb was walking right past the huge window of Vanilla Bliss. With his new whore draped over him.
And it had only been three days since he said the words I now know as bullshit.
I love you, Olivia. Forever. I promise.
I’m not sure why they had me convinced when they were only spoken as he was trying to unfasten my bra.
When thoughts of the bastard flooded my mind, I squished the maraschino cherry. The red juice dripped into my banana split. The couple rounded a corner and were reaching for the door of the ice cream shop. I tried to calculate an escape plan, but unfortunately there were no windows to jump through in the girls’ restrooms. I tried to hide on the stool I was sitting on at the front counter. To my relief, they fell into a booth at the back. To my dismay, the booth was located next to the door.
I’d just have to live with them sucking on each other—and that’s putting it euphemistically.
I watched. It was one of those displays where you feel that you should cover your eyes but can’t pull yourself away. I wondered if the girl was just naïve or a slut. Twenty bucks that she was both.
I remembered our first date. Caleb took me here, too. This place was probably special to him. His first blowjob in the corner perhaps. Something sentimental.
But on our first date, we didn’t need to have our faces surgically separated.