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It was hot.
So hot in fact, that you could probably cook a steak to well done with nothing but a magnifying glass and an asphalt road. It would taste like shit, but you could do it.
Carlton tugged at the collar of his jacket. He didn’t think anyone would blame him for taking it off but he at least had to wear it into the building. As he walked through the door, a gust of cool air hit him before descending back into the scalding heat.
McNabb caught him on the way in. “Oh God, how are you still wearing that much clothing? It’s scorching outside.”
“If I can’t find a fan within the next five minutes I’m taking it off,” Carlton admitted.
As he walked farther into the building, he noticed Shawn and Gus already there. Shawn was sitting at Carlton’s desk, looking like a dead fish flopped over the armrest. He perked up when he noticed him. “Lassie! Disgusting day we’re having.”
“What are you and Guster doing here?”
Gus answered, “Air conditioning is broken at the psych office.”
“I told them they could hang out here for a little while,” Juliet explained.
Carlton trudged over to Shawn, shoes feeling like they were melting into the floor with every step. “I don’t know how much better it is here. I mean, Shawn’s probably stuck to the chair at this point.”
Shawn snorted, but paused when he noticed him taking off his jacket. Carlton draped it over the back of the chair and got to work rolling up his sleeves. Shawn groaned and stood up. “I need to find a fan. Between the temperature and your sexiness I think I’m going to actually combust.”
Gus rolled his eyes. “Keep it in your pants, Shawn.”
“But it’s so goddamn hot in here.” Shawn scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, scratch the fan. I’m getting everyone ice cream, on Gus.”
“What?” Gus scoffed.
“Oh relax, I meant us four.” Shawn narrowed his eyes. “Alright, I know Gus’s favorite flavor, but what about you two? Hold on, wait, let me guess.”
Gus sighed heavily. “Oh, here it comes. The infamous ice cream personality test.”
“The what?” Juliet asked.
“It’s where he guesses your favorite flavor, and if he gets it wrong he still tries to use your answer to point to your personality traits, claiming that if he had just thought a little harder he would’ve guessed that.”
“So it’s like horoscopes, but for foodies?” Carlton asked. Gus nodded.
“To demonstrate,” Shawn said. “I’ll tell you Gus’s favorite. He likes chocolate chip cookie dough, which is a reflection of how he’s a rule breaker, but in the most boring possible way.”
“It’s not boring to eat food that could poison you.”
“Dude, it’s cookie dough.”
“Cookie dough can give you salmonella.” Gus crossed his arms over his chest as if that was all that needed to be argued.
“Okay, aside from the fact that barely anyone gets salmonella from it, I’m pretty sure ice cream companies have to make sure it’s safe to eat before they can sell it.”
“He’s right,” Juliet agreed. “They have a special process to be able to sell raw cookie dough.”
Gus just scoffed. Shawn moved on. “Alright, Jules. Let me guess.” He put his finger to his temple like the spirits would tell him what her favorite ice cream was. “Cookies and cream?” Shawn asked.
Juliet grinned but shook her head. “Salted caramel.”
Shawn snapped his fingers. “Ah, damn. So close. Should’ve guessed. It’s sweet and salty, just like you.”
“I’m really not that salty.”
Shawn laughed. “That’s because you have all that sugary sweetness covering it up. I’ve seen you doing roller derby. You’ve got enough salt to melt a driveway after a blizzard.”
Juliet blushed, but shrugged in response. Carlton suddenly realized he’d be the one Shawn targeted next. He definitely had a favorite ice cream flavor, but… it was a bit embarrassing.
Carlton tried to turn the conversation away from himself. “Hey, Shawn, you never told us what you’re favorite ice cream is.”
“Oh, mint chocolate chip,” Shawn answered. Carlton wrinkled his nose.
Gus cut in, “Except it’s actually not. He just says that because he keeps a running tally in his head of how many people react poorly when he says it.”
“It’s just a survey, Gus.” Shawn grinned. “I’m actually more of a Neapolitan guy, but as of now I can say 67 of the 82 people I’ve told that to have acted disgusted when I said it.”
Carlton blinked. “You just remember that?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of my thing.” He stroked his chin in thought. “Now, if I were Lassie, what would my favorite ice cream flavor be? Something weird, no doubt. Mint chocolate chip?”
“I’m allergic to mint.”
“Wait, wait, don’t tell me.” Shawn pressed his fingers to his temple again. “Pistachio?”
“No.”
“Birthday cake?”
“Nope.”
“Bubblegum?”
Carlton gave him a disgusted look. “Ew, what the fuck? No. Try again.”
Shawn slammed his hands down on the desk. “I don’t know. One of those weird seasonal flavors like pumpkin pie?”
“Never tried it.”
“What then? Fucking what?” Shawn laid his head down and mock-sobbed.
“I’d tell you, but it’s way more fun to watch you suffer.”
Juliet groaned loudly. “Carlton please, I’m begging you to just tell him so we can get ice cream. Please? I’m getting ready to become a stripper just so I can get out of these clothes.”
Carlton pursed his lips. He still didn’t want to say, but that image was pretty graphic and he got the strange feeling that Shawn wasn’t going to be buying anyone ice cream until he knew everyone’s favorite flavor. He mumbled it under his breath.
“What? Speak up, Lassie. I can’t hear you when you’re purposely mumbling.” Damn Shawn’s ability to call his bluffs so fast.
Carlton sighed heavily. “Fine. It’s rainbow sherbet.”
The other three exploded. Amid the yelling, he heard Gus say, “That’s not even ice cream!”
“Who fucking cares, Guster? It’s cold and it has flavor. People call frozen yogurt ice cream and nobody cares.”
“We care, Lassie,” Gus answered. “Because it’s not fucking ice cream!”
Shawn stared at the ground. “That doesn’t even make sense. It’s so far from your personality… unless, is it because it’s rainbow?”
“No!” Carlton paused. “Well, it doesn’t hurt. But I just like the flavor.”
“I guess that explains your coffee habits,” Juliet commented.
“Hey!”
“What?” she asked. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you pouring three packets of sugar in the first time I made you coffee.”
Shawn suddenly snapped his fingers. “Oh! I got it! You like rainbow sherbet because you’re a sweetheart that almost nobody likes.”
“Are you seriously still trying to psychoanalyze me by my favorite ice cream flavor?” Carlton asked.
“That was literally the whole point of this!”
“I thought the point of this was to get us ice cream?” Juliet asked.
Shawn waved her off. “Yeah, sure, that too.”
Carlton pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shawn, if you don’t go get us ice cream right now, I’m going to become a stripper with O’Hara.”
“Now that would be a sight.”
“Go!”
“Alright, alright.” Shawn threw his hands up defensively. “I’m going. Gus, give me your credit card.”
Gus rolled his eyes. “Fine. But only because I think Lassie will shoot me if I don’t.”
“That’s because I will,” Carlton confirmed.
With that, Shawn left, desperately hoping that the ice cream wouldn’t melt before he got back.