Mint Choco

“Hey, what’s this?” Carlos asks, pointing at the sign on top of the ice cream shop. He tilts his head, already regretting following you here. “I did say anything was fine but really?”

“You said you wanted to clear your head so I took you to an interesting place. I don’t see the problem,” you reply, patting your hand on the wall.

“Yeah, but it’s just ice cream,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“It’s what’s inside that’s important.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “And that is?”

“Mint chocolate chip.”

He squints. “Never heard of that.”

“That’s exactly the point,” you say and grab the handle, opening the door and gesturing to him to come inside. Carlos looks around for a moment and sighs, stepping in.

Inside, the shop is brighter and quieter than he expected. It was one of those fancier shops, spacious enough to have tables and fancy enough to have brass parts nested underneath the counter.

You see Carlos expression, mildly impressed and relieved. He scans the place before nodding as if giving the place a stamp of approval. Not bad, you imagine he’s thinking.

You greet the man behind the counter and thank him for holding your table. You had already talked to him the other day to get you a table that was more covered. It was placed right in the corner, far away from the windows and the main entrance, half hidden by a decorative plant.

Carlos slides into the seat across from you with a sigh. At last, he takes off his hat, brushing his long smooth hair, and puts his sunglasses on the table.

“You look tired,” you taste, smiling.

“I am tired,” he admits right away, rubbing the back of his neck. “The podium celebrations were nice, but then media, interviews… and now back in the simulator again.”

“Williams doesn’t get enough time to sleep, eh?”

“No, they don’t,” he laughs.

“I still can’t believe it,” you say. “A Williams podium.”

Carlos leans back in his chair, arms crossed loosely. A faint smile forms on his mouth. “I know, right? First in forever.”

Carlos taps his fingers on the table, distracted, then perks up suddenly. “You know what I remember? After quali, after I did P3.”

“What?” you ask, leaning forward.

“Wait, wait.” He digs out his phone, thumbs flying across the screen. After scrolling for a few seconds, he spins it around to show you.

“Oh, no…” you groan.

Carlos is grinning like a kid as he reads aloud in a terrible impression of your voice: “‘CARLOS WHAT DID YOU JUST DO’ — with about ten exclamation marks. And then, ‘OH MY GOD OH MY GOD CARLOS’”

“I was excited, okay?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. You’re a good friend,” he says, laughing softly.

“Let’s get some ice cream.” You stand before he can tease you further.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

You go by the counter and order first and as you’ve promised, you choose the bright green mint chocolate chip. When it’s his turn, he hesitates. You’ve told Carlos to get the green coloured ice cream but he wasn’t really into that idea.

“Stracciatella, pistachio, hazelnut… these are normal. This—” He points to the tub of mint chocolate with suspicion. “This is not food. Look at its color.”

You elbow him playfully. “You’re getting it. Don’t be a coward.”

“Coward?!” He clutches his chest. “I’m not.”

“Then prove it.”

Grumbling, Carlos orders the mint chocolate.

Back at the table, Carlos stares at his cup, playing around with the chips on the surface. Then he pokes his spoon into the green mound, lifts it to eye level, and sighs before finally tasting it.

His face goes through an entire range of emotions in five seconds. “Damn,” he mutters. “It is exactly toothpaste.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” you comment, taking a spoonful as well.

“It’s bad. Really bad.”

Yet, even as he complains, his spoon keeps dipping back in. Another bite. Another curse.

“You’re not stopping,” you point out.

“Because I paid for it,” he mutters, spoon halfway to his mouth. “Not because I like it.”

“Sure,” you say, watching him take yet another bite.

“So,” you start, “ready for Singapore?”

He pauses mid-bite, lowering the spoon. “Yeah. Actually… yeah, I am. Free practice went okay. Car felt decent.” He shrugs and thinks about it for a moment. “After that podium, I feel like I can actually push for something.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” you say.

He sets his cup down and wipes his mouth with a napkin. You can see the bottom of the cup now, which proves he enjoyed it more than he’ll admit. “The car’s still not perfect. But compared to how we started this season?” He shakes his head. “Big difference.”

“Going back to the simulator after this?”

He groans, throwing his head back. “Yeah, I have to.” He taps the table with his spoon handle.

You nod. “Albion didn’t look like he had much fun out there, though.”

“Yeah, poor guy,” Carlos says. “It was a brake fire I think. Fortunately nothing too crazy. Shame though. We need both cars running if we want points.”

Carlos leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You know… Singapore’s special to me.”