Rainbow Sprinkles

by Anna Martin

  “Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I should have been up hours ago.”

  “Late night?”

  “Working, yeah,” Cooper said with a laugh. “I think I remember the concept of a social life? I pick up a few shifts in a bar a couple of times a week.”

  “Ah.”

  “Anyway, it’s good to hear from you.”

  “Sorry I didn’t call before. I’ve been working a lot too.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You free today?”

  Drew thought about his plans, then forgot them all. “Nothing I can’t rearrange.”

  “No is an acceptable answer,” Cooper laughed.

  “I was going to take my friend’s dog for a walk on the beach later. He won’t mind if we do it another day.”

  “Wanna do something?”

  “Sure. Can you be ready in an hour? I can pick you up.”

  “I’ve got a car.”

  “Yeah, but I want to take you somewhere.”

  Cooper chuckled softly. “Okay. I can be ready in an hour. You got a pen?” He rattled off an address, said he was going to make himself beautiful, and hung up before Drew could say he always thought Cooper looked beautiful, even when he was wearing a candy-pink-and-white-striped shirt at work.

  It wasn’t like Drew had the best work uniform of all time.

  His GPS said Cooper lived thirty minutes away, so Drew made that forty for traffic and grabbed his wallet, deciding to leave now and get a coffee on the way.

  Drew lived in a nice enough neighborhood in Anaheim, in a family-sized home he shared with four of his colleagues. It made for one busy house at times and for some slightly epic house parties. Most of the time, it felt like they should install a revolving door in place of their front door. Apart from the wee hours of the morning, it was rare all of them were home at the same time.

  When he reached the apartment block Cooper had directed him to, Cooper was waiting on the sidewalk, nervously turning his phone in his hands. His shoulders visibly slumped with relief when Drew pulled up, which was strangely reassuring—Drew wasn’t the only nervous one here.

  “Hey,” Drew said, winding down the passenger side window. “Hop in.”

  “Hi.” Cooper slid into the car and leaned over to press a quick kiss to Drew’s cheek. Well, that was unexpected. And nice. And one way to break the ice.

  Drew forced himself to quickly recover and put the car back into Drive.

  “Where are we going?” Cooper asked as Drew indicated and pulled into the flow of traffic.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Okay.” Cooper chuckled.

  It was a warm, breezy day, and Cooper had dressed in shorts and a denim shirt open over his T-shirt. His hair was still slightly damp and styled back from his face, showing off his bright blue eyes.

  “Are you from California?” Cooper asked as Drew expertly navigated traffic. Driving in LA was a skill all its own.

  “Nope. Moved here two years ago from Portland.”

  “Huh,” Cooper said, and Drew wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret that, but Cooper sounded impressed. “Are you taking me to work? I already told you, I can’t eat ice cream.”

  Drew laughed. “No, though I’ve been craving coconut ice cream all week.”

  “I’m trying to think how you’d make that disgusting. But coconut goes with a lot of stuff.”

  “I genuinely like those sundaes, you know.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Drew tore his eyes away from the road for one moment to chance a look at Cooper’s expression. He was smirking. Drew wasn’t sure how to process that information.

  They drove on for a few more minutes in companionable silence, passing the Dreamy Creamery. Then as they passed another sign, Cooper turned and slugged him in the arm.

  “Are we going to Disneyland?”

  “So, confession time,” Drew said, fighting a smile. “I work there.”

  “You don’t.”

  “I do, I swear.”

  Cooper grinned and shook his head. “Man, I haven’t been there since I was a little kid.” He cocked his head at Drew’s questioning expression. “I grew up in San Diego. We didn’t have a whole lot of money, but my parents took us twice, I think.”

  “But now you live so close!”

  “And I’m twenty-four.”

  “You’re never too old for Disneyland,” Drew said earnestly, and Cooper broke into delighted laughter.

  “Are you for real? I don’t think you’re for real. But I like you anyway.”

  “Good. I, uh, I get comp tickets, by the way. I didn’t want you to think I was gonna drop a few hundred on a first date.”

  “So you’re not gonna be my sugar daddy?”

  “Afraid not.”

  “Ah, well. I’ll survive, I’m sure.”

  There was a parking lot for employees, and Drew’s car had the right badge so he could use it even when he wasn’t on shift. Well, not officially, but no one ever checked. It took a few minutes to walk around to the main entrance to the park, and Drew took them to a specific gate so he could get Cooper a guest pass.

  “This is actually a pretty good time to get here,” Drew said as they got through the gates that opened out into the color and music and smell of Main Street. Ahead of them, Sleeping Beauty’s castle loomed, pink and blue, with tiny princesses dancing in front and posing for pictures. “A lot of people take their kids out for lunch and then get them to take a nap midafternoon, then bring them back for the parade and show later tonight.”

  “Jesus. I feel like a kid again.”

  “That’s the magic of the place,” Drew said, hip checking him gently as they strolled down the store-lined street. To their left, Minnie Mouse was signing autographs, and Cooper craned his neck to see. “What do you want to do? We can just walk around—it’s a nice day—or we can hit some of the rides if you like.”

  “Do they still have—” Cooper waved his arm around demonstratively. “—Pirates of the Caribbean?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. I wanna do that.”

  Drew put his hand on Cooper’s lower back, gently guiding him through the crowds of people. He knew the park like the back of his hand; it was split into eight themed “lands,” each distinct in both style and the rides contained within. Fantasyland was bright and fun, geared toward smaller kids who wanted to hop on a magical pirate ship and sail to Peter Pan’s Never Land. Tomorrowland had once been Walt Disney’s own vision of the future. Now it housed Space Mountain and, most recently, Star Wars-themed rides and activities.

  Drew instinctively cut through the tiki-themed Adventureland to get to Pirates of the Caribbean. Cooper was quiet, but Drew wasn’t concerned. Cooper had a familiar look of wide-eyed, childlike glee on his face as he looked up and around, soaking it all in. Drew could empathize. He got the same feeling most days.

  “See over there?” Drew said, tugging Cooper over to the barrier in front of the Rivers of America and pointing just beyond the Mark Twain Riverboat.

  “Yeah?”

  “That’s where they started work on the new Star Wars land.”

  “There’s going to be a Star Wars land?” Cooper exclaimed.

  “Yeah,” Drew said with a laugh. “I’ve seen some of the concept art. It looks pretty cool. It won’t open for a while yet, though.”

  Cooper made a face, and Drew grinned at him. His concerns about bringing Cooper here were apparently unfounded.

  “Pirates?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  THEY RODE Pirates of the Caribbean and Big Thunder Mountain, skipping the line when one of Drew’s friends waved them through to the front. Drew always felt a little guilty when they did that. After, he bought them a couple of bottles of water, and they wandered slowly through the park, taking the big arching loop through to Tomorrowland.

  “Is it weird, being here and not working?” Cooper asked.

  “A little. Not really. When I work an early shift, I sometimes get changed and come back
through in my regular clothes. It’s been a while since I’ve been on any of the rides, though.”

  “How long have you worked here?”

  “Damn. Coming up to two years now.” Drew took a swig of his water. “Time flies.”

  “And what do you actually do?” Cooper was looking at him now with narrowed eyes, like he was trying to figure something out.

  “Shh,” Drew said, grinning and pressing a finger to his lips.

  “Drew.”

  “I genuinely can’t tell you while we’re here.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I’ll tell you later, though.”

  “Okay,” Cooper said, but he still sounded suspicious.

  The evening had started to cool a little, and Cooper took his shirt from where it had been tied around his waist and shrugged it on again.

  “Cold?” Drew asked.

  “Not anymore.”

  “You want to head out? It’s not like we can’t come back anytime you like.”

  Cooper grinned at that. “Okay. I want to do the haunted house next time.”

  “We can do that.”

  The park was just starting to fill up again in anticipation of the nighttime parade and fireworks, the perfect time to slip away before it got too busy. Drew took the familiar route back to the staff parking lot and opened the car door for Cooper to slide in.

  “There’s a hoodie in the back if you want it,” Drew said. “I don’t feel like putting the top back up.”

  Cooper rummaged through the junk that had accumulated and came up with a rusty orange Oregon State hoodie.

  “The Beavers?” he teased, pulling the hoodie on over his head.

  “Hey. The Beavers are ferocious,” Drew said. “Oregon State has a really good theater program.”

  “So tell me what you do,” Cooper said, shifting in his seat and angling himself to look at Drew full-on.

  “I’m a friend of the princes.”

  “What the fuck does that mean.”

  His delivery was so deadpan, Drew had to laugh.

  “We’re not allowed to say, ‘I play Prince Charming at Disneyland’ in case a kid overhears us. That would ruin the illusion that we’re the actual princes, which is what they’re supposed to believe. So we say we’re a ‘friend of’ whoever.”

  “So you’re Prince Charming?”

  “Not so much,” Drew said. “I’m not quite tall enough to be Charming. I usually play Prince Phillip, Kristoff from Frozen, Flynn from Tangled, Bert from Mary Poppins, any of the male characters who wear wigs… um…. Did you know they have Captain America over in California Adventure now? I do that occasionally, though I’m not really muscular enough. That’s only when the regular guy is on vacation or something. And once I was Hercules for one of the special events.”

  “Do you do the accents and everything?”

  “Yep.”

  “Seriously, Drew? I thought you wore a goofy costume and strapped people into rides or something. I didn’t think you were a freaking prince.”

  “Goofy isn’t allowed to strap people into rides,” Drew said, his face solemn and earnest. “It wouldn’t be safe.”

  “I genuinely hate you right now.”

  He laughed again. “Sorry. Habit.”

  “Do you like it?” Cooper asked. There was a little furrow between his brows, like he was working something out.

  “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have been doing it for two years if I didn’t.”

  “Hmm.”

  Drew put the radio on as they hit the highway and let the music carry them back to Cooper’s apartment block. It was quiet here, dark and calm.

  As they turned into Cooper’s neighborhood, he gave Drew directions back to his apartment block. Everything looked different in the dark.

  “Well, I wasn’t expecting to go to Disneyland today,” Cooper said as Drew pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. “But it was pretty awesome. So thank you.”

  “No problem. Anytime.”

  “So, will you be stopping by for ice cream soon? Or now that you have my number has that ship sailed?”

  Drew laughed. “You guys have really good ice cream.”

  Cooper shook his head. “You’re the worst at flirting, like, ever.”

  “Can I get a kiss good night?”

  “You’re definitely charming,” Cooper said, and leaned over to brush their lips together.

  Drew let his hand drift to Cooper’s jaw and held him gently, guiding their mouths together in a sweet, easy kiss.

  “I’ll speak to you soon?” Drew said, rubbing his thumb along Cooper’s cheekbone.

  “Sounds good. Night, Drew.”

  Drew kissed him again. “Good night.”

  Chapter Three

  THANK GOD for text messages.

  Cooper didn’t usually keep his phone in his apron at work; he was supposed to be in charge, and it didn’t set a good example for everyone else. But with both his and Drew’s busy schedules, it was the best way for them to keep in touch.

  And apparently, Drew was a texter. Cooper was getting used to his daily good-morning messages, and Drew always made sure to send a Good night, gorgeous before he went to sleep. It was cute, and Cooper was pretending hard not to be completely enamored by the habit.

  It did mean, though, that Cooper ended up with his phone in his apron most days, waiting for the familiar buzz against his thigh.

  To Cooper’s surprise, his job at the Dreamy Creamery was becoming more than a stopgap. He’d started with little more than basic experience, and Alana had trained him up to be able to make the ice cream. All the ingredients were delivered fresh every few days, and Cooper had learned the subtle art of ice cream making.

  The recipes had been bought, standard, from the manufacturer of the machines they used, but it didn’t take long for Cooper to start tweaking them. The mint chocolate chip was a little too sweet; he changed the process and boiled milk and cream with fresh mint leaves. No more manufactured mint flavor—his results were fresh and subtle, and the switch from semisweet chocolate chips to hand-shaved dark chocolate finished the recipe perfectly.

  That was only the start of it.

  With his boss’s approval, Cooper had become an ice-cream alchemist in the tiny kitchen at the back of the store. He worked through each of the flavors in turn, often relying on Alana as his taste tester when he felt his body starting to reject the lactose. She laughed every time he came out with something new, as he tried not to wince when his stomach ached.

  The kitchen was his playground. Most mornings Cooper arrived by eight and started the process of inventory and stock checking. Product needed to chill and firm up overnight, so he would restock the front-of-house freezers with yesterday’s creations before starting on the new batches. If they ran out of a certain flavor, they were out, and that was that. Cooper wanted his ice cream to be as fresh as it could be, and that meant no stockpiling out back. He’d become pretty good at anticipating stock levels and demand, so that rarely happened.

  At Alana’s suggestion, Cooper had started creating seasonal specials that rotated every month or so. He was working a few months in advance on recipes, just so he was prepared. Next month was going to be a pistachio-raspberry swirl.

  With all of the paperwork completed, Cooper washed up and moved over to the other side of the kitchen to start prepping. They were low on lemon meringue, this month’s special, so he started with that. Fresh lemons, naturally, the peel carefully shredded and candied. The rest of the lemon flesh went into a pot on the stove, ready to make the lemon curd.

  When he’d first come up with this idea, he had wanted tiny little individual meringues dotted through the ice cream. But that was almost impossibly difficult, and he gave up on the idea early on. Instead he made several large meringues in the low, industrial ovens, then smashed them to bits before stirring it into the vanilla ice cream.

  They had three big commercial ice cream mixers in the back kitchen, and Cooper had figured out how
to time it so he could have all three running at the same time. This early morning work was soothing, in its own way; he could hum along to the radio, in his own little world, with no distractions for the first few hours before Alana showed up.

  When his phone buzzed, Cooper almost jumped out of his skin.

  He pulled it out of the apron with a little laugh, wiping his forearm over his head. It had gotten warm in the kitchen, and he went to the AC to crank it up.

  The message was from Drew, of course, his “Good morning, how are you?” text that Cooper secretly adored.

  Before replying, Cooper fixed a pot of coffee, expecting Alana to arrive anytime. And Alana needed coffee. Especially in the mornings.

  She turned up just as Cooper had finished sending his “Fine, how are you?” message, sure that Drew would get the “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah” reference. He decided to whistle the tune, even more certain that it would bug the hell out of Alana.

  “You are disgusting in the mornings,” she said, not removing her sunglasses as she stepped into the kitchen.

  “Only because it bugs you.”

  “Weatherman said it’s gonna be another unseasonable scorcher today,” she announced as she strode purposefully toward the coffee machine.

  “Yippee,” Cooper deadpanned. “At least we’re in the best place to deal with it.”

  “You will never know how grateful I am that I work here and not in a regular kitchen. I should move to Alaska.”

  “But then you’d miss me,” he teased.

  Alana took the first slurp of her coffee.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you.”

  COOPER HAD just finished serving a family with five kids, the whole family wearing matching Disney T-shirts, when he noticed Drew leaning against the fence that separated the store from the parking lot. Drew was on his phone and looked up as Cooper’s customers moved away from the window.

  Cooper held two fingers up, mouthed “Two minutes,” and ducked back into the store.

  “Hey, Alana,” he called. “I’m taking a smoke break.”

  “You don’t smoke,” she said, tucking her tongue into her cheek and crossing her arms over her chest.