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some marshmallows. Stew handed out some long sticks and baited them with marshmallows, holding them over the fire as they had done when they were little kids. Janice snuggled up next to Marco, not pulling away or making any sort of objection when he placed his arm around her. Even Rowena had allowed Doug to sit right beside her, their knees touching; her objections slightly dulled by her fourth can of beer. Doug looked over the fire at Stew. He gave Doug a wink and motioned with his head toward Rowena, telling him to go for it. As if leading by example, Stew turned toward Sonia and kissed her, a gesture she gratefully accepted and returned.
    Doug wasn’t sensing the same willingness from Rowena. She sat silently looking into the fire, swaying a bit with a can in her hand. He swallowed hard and leaned toward her, closing the gap. He puckered his lips and made contact with her cheek, but she turned and pushed him back.
    “What the hell?” Rowena wiped her cheek, her eyes burning.
    “I’m sorry.” Doug retreated, pulling inward and feeling small.
    “Look, I like you, but I don’t ‘like’ you.” Rowena held up her hands and air quoted the words, trying to not be too mean. She knew how he felt and the defeated look on his face made her feel bad. “Can we just stay friends, please?”
    “Of course. That’s totally fine.” Doug managed a smile despite the pain, the twitching muscles beneath his eyelids begging to release tears.
    Doug unzipped his sleeping bag and got in, lying on his left side to look away from Rowena and the others. He wasn’t tired, but it was better than sitting beside the fire and feeling foolish. At least within the bag he and his humiliation felt hidden, protected from everyone’s field of vision. It wasn’t in his character to be so brazen, but the alcohol and the confidence from Stew had let his guard down. Now he’d probably blown any chance with her he may have ever had. But he knew that was total bull. He never had a chance with her. Doug tucked his arm beneath his head and lay there, feeling low and miserable. While the others had a good time drinking and making out, he wept silently. Doug didn’t see how this night could possibly get any worse.

9
    N othing made a shift seem long and unbearable like a lack of customers. Kelly hated working the counter by herself. She felt alone, cut off from the rest of the Inn. The ice cream parlor was the last shop in the Inn, just past the restaurant and the gift shop, sticking off the end like a cold sore. The way the hallway curved past the gift shop it was a wonder anyone even knew it was there. Apparently tonight no one did, because she’d only had four customers, three from one family; a mother and her two sons, maybe four and six years old. The mother had also given her the only tip she’d gotten in days, a dollar and some change. Her fourth and final guest for the night had been a fireman; a young one too, maybe twenty-six. He’d come in six minutes past seven, wearing his uniform and a very charming smile.
    “What can I get for you?” Kelly had asked, grabbing the scoop and lifting the glass casing on her side.
    “I’ll take two scoops of Yellow Moose.” The fireman smiled, pointing to the locally named flavor; just vanilla really with some chunks of caramel. “Your accent…Georgia?”
    “Alabama.” Kelly grabbed his cone and set the first scoop on top.
    “I knew it had to be somewhere down there.”
    “Southern accents usually are.” Kelly enjoyed her comment, feeling like a snappy leading lady in an old movie. She applied the second scoop and handed the handsome fireman his cone. “Will there be anything else I can get you?”
    “What time are you getting off tonight?” The fireman smiled.
    “Nine, but I’m afraid I already have plans.”
    “I’m sure you could break them. I know this great spot overlooking the lake.”
    “Sorry…”
    “Paul.”
    “Sorry Paul, but I’m meeting my boyfriend here.” Kelly gave