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eBook Category: Young Adult/Romance
eBook Description: Austin Opitz never meant to fall for Yvonne Robinson. The girl was rich and spoiled--a lethal combination. But when he saw her sobbing in the hospital cafeteria with a plate of ice cream melting in front of her, he couldn't walk away. So begins a strange friendship between two opposites: Yvonne, a recently diagnosed diabetic bitter about the mandatory change in her lifestyle; and jokester Austin Opitz, who covers up his own recent tragedy by playing class clown. This is a story about teenagers getting a taste of life's ups and downs, and how they cope, despite tremendous odds.

eBook Publisher: The Fiction Works/Gentle Heart Books, Published: fictionworks.com, 1999
Fictionwise Release Date: October 2005

23 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [617 KB], eReader (PDB) [95 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [75 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [69 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [103 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [135 KB], hiebook (KML) [242 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [125 KB], iSilo (PDB) [61 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [78 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [117 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [102 KB]
Words: 22775
Reading time: 65-91 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"A funny, heartwarming read."--Lori Soard, Word Museum

"Dying for Ice Cream shows us through the eyes of a teenager what having diabetes is like, and does it without being clinical. Most kids now days know someone with the disease. This book will help them to understand what their friend is going through, and if they have the disease themselves, it will show them they're not alone. Both of those are good reasons to read this book."--Lisa Ramaglia, WCRG on AOL Reviewer Board

Austin knew he shouldn't have set his alarm the night before. If he hadn't set the alarm, it wouldn't have gone off. If it hadn't gone off, he wouldn't have gone to school. If he hadn't gone to school, he wouldn't have flunked his grammar test. If he hadn't flunked his test, he wouldn't have stayed after school to sign up for tutoring. If he hadn't signed up for tutoring, he wouldn't have gotten stuck with Robert Langenfeld. If he hadn't gotten stuck with Robert Langenfeld, he wouldn't have had to take the grammar geek to the hospital.

And, finally, he wouldn't be standing in front of the nurse's desk in the ER, waiting to find out how Geekboy was doing, wondering if he was going to make it home before midnight, and more than a little nervous about all the people around him who were bleeding, crying, or, for a chance of pace, bleeding and crying.

So he shifted from one foot to another and glanced over his shoulder more than once and cleared his throat for the second time to get the nurse's attention. Like every adult who had a kid standing in front of her, she took her sweet time noticing him. Finally, she quit pretending to study the chart in front of her and looked up.

"Yes?"

"Is my tutor all right?" he asked.

She frowned. Her name badge read, "Chris Anderson." On the opposite shoulder she was wearing a button that read, "Want to save a life? Ask me how!" He couldn't begin to imagine what the button was pitching, and wasn't about to ask.

Since she still hadn't answered him, he repeated his question, slightly louder. "My tutor? I brought him in a couple hours ago?"

"I'm sorry, it's been a crazy--what's he look like? Your teacher?"

Teacher! Ha, that was a good one. But Austin answered her readily. "Short. Up to my chin, maybe. Couple years younger than me. Glasses. Big ears. One blue eye, one brown. Freckles."

Austin paused, thinking. "He was carrying a big calculator when I brought him in--he wouldn't let you guys take it."

The nurse's eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh, yeah! For someone with a concussion, he sure held onto that thing. I thought we were going to have to put him in restraints."

The thought of poor little Robert Langenfeld clapped in restraints, helpless to prevent various medical personnel from relieving him of his beloved Texas Instruments Calculator 3000, made Austin cringe.

"You're going to have to fill out some forms," the nurse continued. "What happened to him?"

Austin sighed. "During our tutoring session, he tripped over his shoelace and fell down two flights of stairs."

The nurse's eyebrows--the exact thickness and length of brown caterpillars--arched. "He was tutoring you in a stairwell?"

"He was trying. I was trying to get away from him. Hey, I don't learn on my own time, okay?" At the nurse's frown, he added, "And don't look at me like that, I feel bad enough."

"Sorry," she replied, sounding anything but. "Your tutor's going to be here for a while, they're running some tests. You'll have to wait. Might as well fill out these forms while you're waiting."

She handed him a truly intimidating stack of papers. He tucked them under his arm and swallowed a sigh. There were few things he hated more than waiting. One of them was filling out forms. On the other hand, he sort of had this coming. "Where's the cafeteria?"

The nurse gave him directions, and Austin went to find some chocolate milk. He took his time. After the cafeteria, he would have to find a phone and call his father. While his dad was a reasonable man, he'd insist on hearing the whole story, and Austin wanted to keep the news of his impending F in English to himself as long as possible.

Also, it was very important to get the heck away from that waiting room. The noise was bad enough, but he felt like a bugturd because Langenfeld was hurt. Maybe he should have tried harder to catch the kid, rather than concentrating on getting the hell out of the way of the falling body.

It's not like he couldn't have caught him.

Langenfeld was clumsy and tripped over something on a daily basis--usually more than once--but Austin had the reflexes of a cat. Not just an ordinary house cat, either.

"Hey, kid, watch out for my cart!"

He felt a double-thud and then a dull pain in his left foot. He looked down, surprised to see a meds cart, pushed by a candy striper, had just rolled over his foot.

"Sorry."

Now where was he? Right, right, reflexes like a cat. One of those big jungle cats, like the kind they showed on the Discovery Channel. And he didn't just have good reflexes, he had a knack of knowing something was going to happen--

Dull pain in his nose; he stepped back, observing the elevator door closing faster than he had anticipated. Beside him, a robed patient about to step in the elevator looked at him with concern.

"That looked like it hurt. You okay?"

"Fine, I'm fine," he replied absently, and he was, because he had the knack of knowing something was going to happen seconds before it actually did.

So, basically, he had no excuse for not leaping nimbly down the stairwell and saving Langenfeld.

There he'd been, practically sprinting down the stairs to get away from the kid, ignoring Langenfeld's shrieked, "You flunked the quiz because you didn't know what a preposition was! I can help you!"

Then, just as Austin was clawing for the doorknob: "Gerunds can be your frien--aaiiiggghh!" Then a series of thuds.

Austin shivered, banishing the memory.

Langenfeld had seemed okay, if a little dazed, but there was blood all over the place from where the kid had banged his head, and Austin had driven him to the ER, just to be safe. He'd have to do something extra nice for the kid to make up for it, too. Take him to a basketball game. Polish his calculator. Pass a grammar test. Something.

These dark thoughts brought him to the cafeteria. It was close to empty this time of day, which was why he noticed the girl right away. She was about his age, maybe a little younger, and really pretty. Gorgeous, in fact. Long red hair and skin the color of a vanilla milkshake. He couldn't see her eyes from here, but was sure they'd be green. She was the prettiest girl he'd seen out-side of the movies. One look at her, and poor Robert Langenfeld vanished from his thoughts.

She was sitting at one of the tables, looking at a big bowl of ice cream and crying. And she wasn't eating the ice cream, just staring at it and sobbing like someone had knifed her puppy.

Austin moved past her, toward the dairy case.

He could still hear her crying softly. He looked around but there were only two other people in the cafeteria, and neither of them was paying attention. One of them, in fact, was asleep. If anyone was going to say anything to her, it would have to be him.

"Never mind, dude," he muttered under his breath. "None of your business."

Excellent advice. He'd gotten into enough trouble today, thanks very much. The girl--whoever she was--looked old enough to take care of herself. For all he knew, she was boo-hooing over a Friends re-run. Whatever the problem, it was none of his business.

Nope. None.

He gave up looking for chocolate milk and decided to just find a water fountain. Anything to get away from that soft, steady crying.

"Okayyyyy ... we're just gonna walk out of here.

Right past the girl and out the door. Let's go. And while we're at it, we're going to stop talking to ourselves."

While he was muttering to himself he was moving past the girl's table. He glanced back only once--but like Lot's wife, one look back was his undoing. She just looked so ... pretty and pitiful.

It broke his heart a little. It wasn't much fun to see someone in obvious pain. Especially since he'd had more than his fair share of pain this past year.

But he wasn't going to think about that.

When he got closer, he saw he'd been wrong about her eyes. They weren't green. They were an amazing shade of blue, like the sky on a cloudless day.

What was wrong with him? 'Like the sky on a cloudless day'? You'd think he'd been the one to take a blow to the head, not Langenfeld.

Disgusted, he tried to notice something besides her fine looks, and noted the ice cream in front of her was chocolate.

"Um ... hi. Are you--this is going to sound stupid, but are you all right?"

"Fine."

The girl didn't stop crying. Her ice cream was melting, and as if that had special meaning, the girl suddenly picked up her spoon and shoved it into the gluey mass.

He tried again. "Do you want a napkin or something?"

"No. Go away."

She was gripping the spoon so hard her knuckles were white. With a mental sigh, Austin pulled back a chair and sat down.

"Most days I'd do that. Go away--I mean, we don't even know each other, and I just had the day from hell and I'm tired and my dad's probably worried about me and my foot hurts from where the pill cart ran over it. You seem like you need some help. Do you want me to call a doctor?"

Her gaze flew to his face, her blue eyes wide with alarm. "No! God, no. The last thing I need is another doctor." She sniffed pitifully. "Just go away and let me die in peace."

He grinned at her melodrama. "You look pretty healthy."

"Well, I'm not, okay?" she snapped. "I've got diabetes. And I've got news for you, I'm not putting up with it. Forget it."

She brought up a big drippy spoonful of ice cream, opened her mouth wide, then paused long enough to glare at him. "Are you just going to sit there and stare at me?"

"I'm trying to remember my notes from health class," he said mildly. "Is diabetes the one where you poop uncontrollably, or when you can't have sugar?"

The girl stared at him for a long moment, then burst out laughing. He breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"It's the one where you can't have sugar, you idiot."

Funny, how she made "idiot" sound almost like "darling".

"I always get those two mixed up," he admitted.

"So if you can't have sugar--"

"Ever."

"Right. If you can't have any, why are you sitting there with a bowl of ice cream the size of your head?"

"It's none of your business, really."

He folded his arms across his chest and hummed at the ceiling. His very pose told her he had nothing better to do than wait for an answer.

She made an exasperated sound and said, "I told you. I'm not putting up with it. I'm not cutting out sugar and watching my diet and going to the doctor every other damn day and sticking needles into my thigh three times a day, no way. No."

She brought a great, gloppy spoonful to her mouth.

"Wait!"

She waited.

"Um ... I'm a little slow today, but ... what's the alternative? To taking care of yourself, I mean?"

She glared at him again. "Go away."

"Listen, if it's dangerous for you to have sugar, then don't eat the stuff!" he said, exasperated.

"I told you," she ground out, "I'm not putting up with it."

He leaned across the table, spearing her with his gaze. "Put--the spoon--down," he said. "And no one gets hurt. Look, we can talk about this.

What do you want? Money? A getaway car? There's no need to take a hostage. Especially when it's your own body."

She had started to smile at him, then looked outraged. "Don't make fun of me!"

"I'm not," he assured her. "I'm trying like hell to lighten the mood. I ... don't!"

She brought the spoon to her mouth again. He knocked it out of her hand, startling both of them.

She obviously hadn't expected that. And he hadn't been sure he was doing it until his hand was in motion.

"Jeez, I'm really sorry," he said contritely, wondering if he was going to burst into flames from the power of her glare. "I don't know what came over me."

"Go away." Her teeth were gritted so tightly, he could barely make out the words.

"I want to go away," he mourned. "I even tried. But I can't."

Defiantly, she grabbed the bowl and lifted it to her mouth. Austin sprang into action. He couldn't save Langenfeld, the poor geek ... he would save her!

With that thought in mind, he jumped at her, knocking her to the floor. The ice cream bowl crashed about four inches from his head and splattered everywhere. The girl let out a shriek and belted him with a small fist that felt like a rock. Pain exploded above his left eyebrow.

"Ow!"

"Get off me!"

"Kill yourself on your own time, dammit! But don't do it in front of me and then expect me to watch."

"I asked you to go!"

"Yeah, well, you didn't say the magic--owwwww!"

Another small fist flew, and there was another explosion in his head. She was petite and delicate, but she had a left hook like an undercover cop.

"Look, I don't want to hurt you," he groaned, clutching his head where, he was sure, a large lump was rising.

She brought her knee up. Right where he wanted it least. Pain exploded through his lower abdomen, and for one long moment, he was afraid he was going to throw up on her furious face.

He slowly rolled over, wanting to huddle on the cafeteria floor, and she leaned over him. "I'm sorry," she said in a low voice, biting her lip. "I didn't mean to get you that hard. But you had it coming," she added.

"Ggghhhhhhhh," he said. Abruptly, she was yanked off him. He slowly sat up, fighting the urge to clutch his privates, and saw a hospital security guard standing over them.

"Thank God you're here!" he groaned. "Another few punches and I'd have been down for the count."

"What's going on, kids?" The guard was tall, very tall, extremely tall. Austin decided the guard wouldn't be so big once he stood up ... then he realized he was standing. Hunched over, but standing. The guard's left hand was bigger than Austin's whole head. Hell, the guard's middle finger was probably bigger than Austin's whole head. And the guard did not look happy. "Tell me quick, or you can tell the folks down at Juvie Hall."

"I'll tell you what's going on," the girl snapped. "This thug attacked me! I was minding my own business, having a little snack--"

"The hell!" he wheezed. "She's diabetic. She's not supposed to eat any sugar. I was stopping her from being stupid."

"You couldn't stop a ... a ... stupid person from being stupid."

"That's telling me," he mumbled.

"I've heard enough," the guard rumbled. Austin half expected the floors to shake.

"Me, too," he added. "I ... hey!"

He felt himself seized by the back of his neck like a naughty kitten, and hauled toward the exit.

His only comfort was that the girl who had gotten him into this trouble was receiving the same brisk treatment.

"You aren't supposed to touch us unless we're a danger to ourselves or others!" she shrieked. "I know my rights!"

The guard didn't trouble himself to answer. Just escorted--to put it mildly--the two of them to the nearest exit. He didn't throw them out, just gave them both a firm shake, then set them down on the sidewalk, stepped back, and disappeared back inside the hospital.

They stared at the slowly closing door, then at each other.

"Well, great."

"What is your name?"

"That's just great," she fretted. "I didn't even want to be there, and I went anyway, and I was just minding my own business, when I was brutally attacked."

"What is your name?" he said again.

"What difference does that make?" He waited, staring at her.

"Yvonne Robinson, if you must know. And I don't want to know your name. You got me kicked out of the hospital!"

"I thought you were sick of seeing doctors all the time."

Yvonne opened her mouth to reply ... then closed it and looked surprised. Slowly, she smiled.

"You're right. I wouldn't have dared left on my own, but getting thrown out--I suppose I owe you for that, if nothing else."

"Good," he wheezed. "Help me across the street. You can buy me a sundae. I'll eat it and you can enjoy it vicariously."

She laughed, the sound startling him and pleasing him at the same time. "I will, too. But only because I didn't mean to get you so hard."

"'Get' me?" he groaned. "You racked me like you grew up with five brothers."

"It was a lucky shot," she admitted cheerfully.

"I'm an only child."

"Great," he grumbled.