Page 43 of Ski You Later
“Have you done this before?” I ask Roman. My change of topic doesn’t go unnoticed, and he sends me a thankful smile.
As he looks up at what I am dragging him towards, he looks back at me with an eyebrow raised. “I grew up here, Langley. Of course, I have done this. I will say it has been years, though.”
“I haven’t done it in ages either. When I was a kid, I would always try and eat it before it was set, and I would end up getting sugar burns on my tongue.”
My mood brightens as a laugh slips free from his lips, and something akin to pride fills my body. “You’re definitely that kid who would eat scalding hot maple taffy and then just start screaming.”
I lightly smack his arm, a playful laugh lacing my tone. “I didn’t scream! I was a dignified child.”
He pulls me closer once again, his arm falling easily over my shoulder as if it were the most naturalthing in the world. “Now that I believe. I’ve never seen a twenty-one-year-old so against swearing.”
“I abhor crudeness! Is that so terrible of me?” I counter.
“You would use ‘abhor’ casually in a sentence.”
I playfully glare at him as the kind woman working the stand cuts us off from our bickering. Roman pulls out his wallet faster than me, and he buys us two popsicle sticks.
She then ushers us down the line to the older gentleman, and his hot pot of maple syrup being held in his gloved hands.
“Two for you kids?” His cute old man voice croaks.
“Yes, please,” we say in sync, both quickly locking eyes with each other.
“One mind,” Roman mouths over the old man’s head, and I just roll my eyes at him.
The sweet old man pours two lines of hot maple syrup on the snow and leaves us to finish the job. The objective is that we need to roll the syrup once it’s cool enough to be taffy-like and easily attach to the stick. But not wait so long that the syrup solidifies and becomes crunchy.
Roman’s hunching over across from me, his brows narrowing in focus, and all his attention fixed on the freezing taffy. “Now, Rhodes, you actually have to wait for the taffy to cool before you eat it. There are horror stories of adorable little girls burning their tongues, and they start screaming like crazy.” He flicks his eyes up to me as he says this and is rewarded with a glare from me.
He starts lightly chuckling at his own joke, and I lean down and grab a handful of snow. I pretend to focus on my taffy as I slowly lean towards his. As I prepare to throw a giant lump of snow on his taffy, a giant hand grips my wrist as I prepare to toss it, and my snow falls helplessly to the floor.
He’s standing up straight now, his body leaning over the snow block as his glare’s narrowed on me. “Don’t. Even. Think about it, Langley.” I can’t tell if he is trying to be serious, but the humour shining in his eyes does nothing but egg me on.
“Oh, I was thinking about it, buddy. It would make my perfect maple taffy stick look even better if it was beside yours.”
He opens his mouth to retort, but I don’t let him get a word out as I lean in closer to him. “Either way, weboth let it sit for too long now, and we both will have a frozen lump of maple syrup.”
My smug expression falters as an absolutely feline smile plays on his lips. “Is that so? Maybe you ought to look down. Bud?” He heavily emphasizes that last word, and I whip my head down in horror.
My heart drops when I see that his other hand has been expertly rolling the syrup this whole time. A gooey glob of perfectly rolled taffy hanging off his stick. Picking up my own taffy, the line of syrup is frozen solid, and is standing perpendicular to the stick.
I look up at Roman with a slight pout on my lip and can’t even savour the full laugh that erupts from him. Against my wishes, my competitive streak comes out in full force.
“Whatever, you cheated!” It’s not my best come back, but I don’t care. He’s a sneaky little deviant that needs to be reprimanded.
“It wasn’t a competition, love.” His laughter comes easier now as he leans against the snow and smiles at me.
His words have the confusing effect of both infuriating me and causing my heart to explode in my chest. Before I can sort through those feelings, the old lady from the front shoots towards us with a smallPolaroid camera in her hands. “Okay, sweeties, let’s see those sticks!” She yells in our direction as her head ducks behind her camera.
I feel a swift movement in my hands but ignore it as Roman leans farther over the snow block. Resting his head on top of mine, a blinding flash goes off, and I instinctively react. Quickly holding up my horrendous stick, I flash the biggest smile I can muster.
The smile on the older lady’s face is radiant as she looks up at us both and places the photo face down. I brace myself for this sweet old lady to be disappointed in my work, but my brow furrows as she faces Roman with disappointment.
Her face falls instantly since taffy-making is something she obviously takes very seriously. “Oh, well, maybe get your girlfriend to help you next time, sweetie.”
She pats Roman on the arm as she makes her way to the people beside us. I turn back to Roman, that adorable smile gracing his face yet again as he holds my taffy as a badge of honour. I look at my own hand to find I’m holding his perfectly rolled maple syrup stick, and the taffy starting to ooze down my hand.
“How did you do that!” I demand in shock.
