Chapter Text
It's a warm summer morning, which is annoying for Max, because this means that Scoops Ahoy will have a million customers. Okay, not really, but it sure feels that way. Max steps off the bus and into Starcourt Mall. California Dreamin' is playing in her headphones. She knows its more of an autumn song, but she already misses the cold weather. When the public starts getting too loud, she turns up the music until she reaches the front counter of Scoops Ahoy, where she takes them off.
"No! You can't have more than three samples," Mike says to a customer.
"I don't see a sign," Erica spits back at him.
"Well, I mean- technically it's not an actual rule but-"
"Then give me the goddamn sample!" she slams her hands against the counter. Mike flinches at the sound.
Max smirks and heads out back to change into her uniform. When she gets back, Mike is practically cowering behind the counter, while Ericas group throw tiny spoons at him.
"Okay, times up," She says, stepping in between Mike and the girls. "Either buy an ice cream or get out."
"Whatever," one of the girls says. "This place is dead anyway."
When they all leave, Max bursts out laughing. Mike doesn't seem to share her delight.
"Why don't they listen to me?" he asks, not really talking to anyone.
"You need to be more assertive, Wheeler." Max manages to get out between giggles. "What's with you and this sample rule anyway?" She sits on the counter behind the front desk.
Mike makes his way over to the janitors closet and picks up a broom. He starts sweeping the spoons into a colorful pile. It'd almost be beautiful if it wasn't such a waste.
"It's just- ugh! You get three tries. Three! If you still can't choose the right flavor after three chances, then you'll just have to guess." He looks at the ground while explaining, gesturing wildly. "We're losing money on this whole 'unlimited sample' thing. Trust me, Max, I did the math."
Max swings her legs, enjoying the fleeting moments they have to talk, while rush hour draws closer. "I hate to break it to you Michael-"
"Mike."
"-but I don't think they're abusing our samples to actually try different flavors." she hops down from the counter and gives Mike a pat on the shoulder, before grabbing a smaller broom and sweeping up the rest of the spoons. Mike scoffs. “I’ll be on the phone with corporate soon enough. Just you wait.”
”I’m sure you will,” Max mutters.
***
After what feels like a thousand customers later, it’s time for a break. Max and Mike usually take advantage of this time to get something to eat.
“Alright, sailor,” Max tips her hat at Mike “Where do you wanna go for lunch?”
Mike is wiping the counter. “I don’t care,” he throws the cloth over his shoulder, probably trying to look cool by copying what he’s seen Steve Harrington do, before realizing he missed a spot and having to take it down again. “I feel like we’ve been to every spot already.”
Max nods before she is reminded of the new addition to Starcourt Mall. “What about Surfer Boy Pizza?”
Mike pauses for a second. “You… wanna take a plane to California for some pizza?”
Max rolls her eyes. “No, idiot, there’s one right over there,” she point across the mall where, sure enough, a big yellow sign with a pizza on it is staring right back at them.
Mike squints. “What?! When did that open?”
”Like two days ago,” Max says offhandedly “Don’t you read the paper?”
Mike frowns. He’d rather not share hobbies with his father. Just the sound of a ruffling paper is enough to make him flinch.
“I just assumed you knew,” Max interrupts the memory “Hasn’t Will told you?”
Mike tenses. He starts scrubbing even harder. “Why would he tell me?”
“Because he’s working there,”