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It was the hottest summer on record so they say

It’s funny I remember summer being even hotter when I was very young

Or maybe it wasn’t?

I can’t remember

Can you make it an iced latte this time? Mix it with vanilla and orange

The treat was ready in moments and I put the straw to my lips

A bitter taste at first and I almost didn’t say anything

But he paused until I confessed it needed a change

And so we added in some sweetness

That’s better, I confirmed

And as I sipped the taste changed only in my mind

It smelled like cigarettes and I got swept away to a summer from long ago

I ordered a sour patch ice pop to impress my cousins

Big kids like sour things because it makes them forget they’re growing up

And I wanted to be like them

The barista that prepared my latte started to blend in my mind with the cashier that sold us the sour popsicle and perhaps one of my cousins

Cigarette smoke?

The distinct accent?

I can’t remember the reason

What I do remember is the smell of cigarettes burning in the sun as we stepped out of the convenience shop

The sun was hot - much too hot for me

I was so young at the time

I don’t remember much about that time in life other than the pull of desire to be someone

Someone respected by my peers

I lazily kicked the sand off the boardwalk out of my way as we made our way to down to the beach

Once the popsicle was unwrapped it immediately started to fade away in the sun

My father looked at me dubiously as I was about to take a bite

He had tried to encourage me to get something else when we were shopping inside

I stood my ground

First sour and then sweet once getting my way

The taste was terrible and unfortunately I knew it would be

Sour wasn’t to my taste at all but that wasn’t very cool of me, was it?

I tried to conceal my disgust but he knew I hated it

Let’s get something sweeter, he said

Reluctantly I accepted and we went back inside where I chose a creamsicle ice pop

I remember the breath of smoke hitting my face as we left the shop

The blend of sweet hit my tongue like a hug

And I remember now

How it felt to be known without judgement or ridicule

Replace the pain with something sweeter

Growing up doesn’t have to mean settling for something sour

Your comfort is not an imposition

Don’t allow your desire to be left a mystery to be overturned years later

Like a seagull ripping open a bag of leftover food on the beach.