01

MOOSE TRACKS

The girl with dyed red hair had ordered two scoops of Moose Tracks ice cream every single time Finn took the counter and no time else without a single miss for the past six weeks.

While Finn normally wouldn't mind, the situation was a little creepy due to the fact she only came when he had a shift. There were stalking laws, and she was practically his own stalker. Every time he took the counter for six weeks straight? He had a semi-substantial case, since it could be a little bit too coincidental. Though it'd only been six weeks since he began to notice. Who knew how long she had been doing it before then? Plus, he didn't even take the counter at the same time every day.

And there's also the fact that she ordered Moose Tracks ice cream. To any onlooker, it would just be because she enjoyed that flavor of ice cream, but she had ordered eighty-four scoops, more or less, of Finn's favorite ice cream every time Finn took the counter. That was probably enough evidence to put a restraining order on her.

He didn't even know her name, but as far as he was concerned, it was legally "Finn's future fiancée." Asking her for it was an option, but his pride wouldn't allow him to take the low road and initiate a conversation with her just to learn her name, since it was his attention she obviously wanted. She should instigate the conversation if she so wanted, because she was the stalker out of the two of them. She could stop coming, and Finn wouldn't even bat an eye.

Four weeks ago, when Finn had approached his cousin Huapeng and his dad about this debacle, they had laughed.

"Just start the conversation, Huáng Jiāxīn," his dad told him, using his Chinese name almost condescendingly. "You're the man out of the two of you, so just talk to her. And plus, she does bring business. She's probably spent like two hundred dollars' worth of ice cream for you."

"We have coupons. It has not been two hundred dollars yet."

"Close to it," Huapeng said. "You should give the next one on the house."

"No," Finn had said, but every time Finn saw her enter the store, he was tempted to do so until he realized that that may have been her ulterior motive. Shortly afterwards, he would give in again and try to rehearse the words, but before the words could come out of his larynx, someone would come in, or he would see how ridiculous he was being and focused on something else.

Once again thinking it over, he played with his pencil as he tried to shake off that thought and focus on his drawing in his notepad. He wasn't particularly interested in drawing, but since he was required to take a fine arts course at school, he decided to take Drawing. Although he didn't mind that his assignment looked terrible, he had nothing else to do, so he might as well redo it.

There was a knock on the door, and looking over, Finn saw Huapeng at the door. When she saw him with his sketchbook, she rolled her eyes. "Alexandra called and said she's coming over tomorrow with some friends, so if you're at the counter, don't be rude. Also, it's dinnertime."

"All right," he said, stuffing his sketchbook and his pencil in a drawer. He got up and left to wash his hands, his mind now dwelling on what Huapeng just said about Alexandra, their other cousin.

Alexandra wasn't one to have a social life, so who were her friends? Maybe it was the two boys Alexandra always went on about, but that didn't make any sense. Finn knew that Alexandra didn't have the time to make friends, and she hardly went out of her way to get to know people. At least by the end of tomorrow, he would know who her friends were.

Sighing, he sat down at the dinner table and decided not to give it any more thought. Finn picked up his chopsticks, said a quick prayer, and began to eat, ignoring the way Huapeng was staring at him. It was easier to ignore her than to ask her what was wrong. Maybe Huapeng didn't know Finn was taking an art class.

"Dàjiù wants you to pop down at the shop afterwards," said Huapeng eventually, taking a bite of her dinner in front of her. "You're just studying for that math test, right? You don't really study for anything except math." She paused awkwardly, as though unsure of how to proceed, and then said, "Oh, that reminds me, I still don't know your favorite color. I was going to make you a card for your birthday but couldn't remember it anymore."

"That's because I never told you." Bored, Finn picked up a single grain of rice with his chopsticks before eating it. They ate the rest of the dinner in silence, and when Finn finished his food, he put his bowl in the sink and then headed downstairs to the ice cream shop. "Dad?"

His dad's head reared itself into the shop's kitchen, and then Xidao smiled at him. "Are you busy doing homework right now?" Finn shook his head. "Good, then you can work another shift. Oh, remember to treat that girl nicely. I'm going to go eat dinner now." Xidao walked toward the staircase and patted Finn on the head. "Remember to smile."

Finn moved out of his father's reach, half-annoyed and half-embarrassed, and put on his apron, thinking back to the redhead. The girl already came once after school today, so best case scenario, she wouldn't come again. Given Finn's luck, she was bound to come back, and although he always had the right to refuse service, that was probably more effort than doing all the obligatory motions.

Heading to the front now, he scooped himself some Moose Tracks ice cream and sat on a stool, watching the crowd outside through the window. Across the street was an apartment complex, so occasionally, he could catch a glimpse of the tenants and spin crazy stories about them in his head, but not too many people were outside. He could also always read to relieve his boredom, since he usually got the less-busy shifts, but his book was upstairs.

As he finished off his cone, the door opened, and Finn said the mandatory greeting flatly without looking up. Tossing his trash away, he turned around and saw the girl looking at the sign above his head. She was the girl from before, her hair looking so saturated that it seemed like she dyed it between the time she came earlier that afternoon and now. And although Alexandra dyed her hair a lot as well, it was never usually this intense.

Remember to treat that girl nicely, his dad's words rang in his head, and he wanted to throw that all out the window. Be nice to a stalker? Even if she wasted two hundred dollars for him on ice cream, being nice to her was equivalent to playing Russian Roulette with the entire gun loaded.

Finn tried to look at this situation in a more positive manner. Maybe she just liked Moose Tracks ice cream. Maybe it was a coincidence she came here when he was at the counter. Maybe it was a coincidence that she liked Moose Tracks ice cream too. Maybe it was a coincidence that her hair was red — an intense, fiery red that reminded Finn of fire and blood and red-stained napkins.

Closing his eyes, he shook his head. What was he thinking? He wasn't going to rearrange his view of things just because of a stalker, even if it came in the form of a redhead with an interest in ice cream. Looking at the girl again, he saw that she was staring at him, as though waiting for him to leave his thoughts behind. Sighing, he said,

"Welcome to Salvatore's. What can I get you?" This was the first time he'd ever taken two shifts in a day ever since she started coming here, so how did she know he was here? Did she live across the street? Did she bug the place? Was it all just a coincidence? Should he call the police on her?

No, he could solve his own problems. No reason to contact the police over a harmless teenage girl.

"Two scoops of Moose Tracks ice cream, please." She smiled after saying that, and it was so bright that Finn momentarily had to look away to prevent himself from being blinded.

Picking up the ice cream scoop, he asked, "Cup or cone?" He already knew the answer but asked anyway, not wanting this girl to think that she was special. If he pretended not to notice that she came every time he had a shift, maybe she'd lose hope and go away.

"Cone," she answered, and he used his free hand to grab a waffle cone. Ignoring his father's words in his head, he scooped the ice cream calmly, trying to breath evenly.

"That'll be four-twenty," he said, handing her the cone. Finn took the five-dollar bill from the girl and handed back her change. Buying a tub at a grocery store would've been cheaper than coming here for the ice cream, so was it really his company that made her come here? "Thank you, have a nice—"

"Is your real name Finn? Because in some places, they reuse name tags, and although this is a small place, you guys might reuse name tags."

Back when Finn turned thirteen, Finn's dad asked him if he wanted to use a fake name, and Finn refused. He regretted that now, because this random girl knew his name now. "Yes."

"Really? You look like a Finn."

If Finn was a fake name, that would have been an insult, so either way Finn looked at it, that couldn't be a compliment. "Thank you."

Remember to treat that girl nicely.

"What's your name?" That was polite, right? Finn didn't care about her name and would much rather refer to her as that redhead stalker because it was less personal. Though it was rude not to ask in return, right?

"Kayleigh." She looked down at the ground for a second and then back at him again. "It's spelled K-A-Y-L-E-I-G-H."

"That's a pretty name," he politely responded, the words feeling like venom on his tongue. If he was going to be kind, he might as well have made the two scoops on the house and not wasted it on complimenting her name. She didn't even pick her own name, so it was just like saying "your parents did a wonderful job naming you" rather than giving her an actual compliment.

"What part of China are you from? You look Chinese, but I can't tell from where. I'm Cantonese."

This girl was starting to get on Finn's nerves. "The mainland." He put the scoop back and thought of a way to get out of this conversation. Pretend to be sick?

"Really? Cool. What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?" the girl asked, furthering the conversation as though not sensing his want to end it.

What did I do to deserve this? he griped to himself. He learned how to avoid everyone at school, how to avoid Huapeng's endless questions, and how to get out of joining study groups. Yet somehow, this girl could get him to have a semi-normal conversation with her.

Then again, most of the students from Northbay High — he assumed she was from there, since she seemed to live near the shop — were super extroverts, so it made sense. He tended to avoid other Northbay High students for that reason, because with the exception of Alexandra, they spent too much time socializing.

She asked him a question about ice cream, right? Something about ice cream? "Moose Tracks," he said, deciding to just say his favorite flavor. Hopefully that would make sense in the context of the conversation, and when her face brightened, Finn could tell it did.

"Really? Me too!" She took a bite of her ice cream as though to prove it, and Finn looked away from her and out the window in the hopes that someone else would come in. He could always drag a random soul in here. "You're in high school, right?"

Finn nodded. When did the conversation turn so one-sided?

"What school?"

"I go to a private school nearby." Finn picked at his nails and looked back at the girl, her hair attracting most of his attention. He has seen it so many times, so why was it so appealing now? Why did the color relax him? It was ridiculous to think that such a color would relax him when it haunted his dreams.

"You go to a private school?"

He nodded. "I got a scholarship for math." Opening his mouth to say goodbye now, he realized that he'd forgotten her name already. It ended in two e's, didn't it? Though he was sure she mentioned something about a "g-h" when she spelled it.

Keeping his sigh to himself, he glanced at the girl again to evaluate the situation. A stalker, who'd ordered over two hundred dollars' worth of ice cream, only when Finn was at the counter, was talking to the Finn-in-question and asking personal questions, with Finn answering them as though it was an obligation, when it wasn't. The blame should really be put on Finn for answering the questions, but being human, Finn pushed the blame on her.

"That's pretty cool. Are you really that good at math?"

He shrugged, knowing fully well he was good at math, and wished he still had his phone. If he had his phone, he could at least pretend he got a phone call and have her leave, which would've been extremely rude. Being perceived as rude wasn't high on his list of priorities though, but doing so was probably unacceptable since she did bring business, and business led to profits.

"Are you good at science then?" When Finn shrugged again, she asked, "If you're only in high school, why do you work here?" She asked this question completely innocently, oblivious to the fact that Salvatore's was his family's business. He told her the truth, and her eyes lit up as she received the information. "Oh, really? That's so cool!" She finished off the first scoop of ice cream by now, and Finn wished she could just hurry up and leave. "I go to Northbay."

Like he had thought. "Northbay's a good school," he said absentmindedly, wondering if she was dense to not be able to tell that he was bored, or not even thinking about anything they were talking about.

"Do you guys make your own ice cream here?"

"Yes." If this girl was anything like Alexandra, her next words would be—

"Is it hard to make them?"

Exactly the same thing Alexandra asked years ago. Finn ought to introduce the two, and they'd go live romantic happily-ever-after together. Was the girl standing right here a lesbian? The better question was whether or not it mattered.

"I don't make the ice cream."

"Oh." The disappointment in her voice was much too obvious. Was she trying to hide the fact that she was disappointed, or was she making it obvious on purpose? Did she want to learn how they made their ice cream to drive them out of business?

His gaze went from the wall to her ice cream cone now, and he noticed there was some dripping ice cream on her cone. While he should've done the nice thing and told her, he believed he didn't have a single ounce of kindness in him. (He did. Just not toward her and the other seven billion Homo sapiens sapiens in this world he wasn't fond of.)

"Who makes the ice cream then?"

"My cousin and my dad," he answered. Maybe she really did come here because she liked him. That was what normal high school students would do, right? Was there such a thing as a normal high school student?

"Well, give my compliments to them." There was a pause as she checked the time on her phone. "I have to go now, but it was nice talking to you, Finn!" She walked out the door and waved through the window, a smile still on her face. Finn rose his hand to wave back but caught himself halfway through. What was he thinking, waving to the stalker? Was he encouraging the felon to continue coming here?

But despite that, he found his arm still halfway up in the air even after she was out of sight.

02

VANILLA

Twelve days later, Finn still could not recall her name. He didn't even want to know how many days had gone by, but his internal clock deemed it to be important. Loving nothing more than to press snooze on that clock, he realized soon that it would prove impossible, and every time the girl showed up again, he was tempted to address the fact that she was a stalker.

But every time the words left his vocal cords, he heard himself saying, "That will be four-twenty. Have a nice day."

And that would be it.

In addition to that, he still hasn't given her two scoops on the house yet either, which Huapeng had had a field day with. She loved nothing more than to tease him about that, and it occupied so much space in his brain that he made a simple addition error on his math test on Monday. He didn't even use the wrong formula. Was there something fundamentally wrong with him? Even when he was doing probability and statistics, his worst subject, he hadn't made such a small error.

"You still haven't told me your favorite color, you know," Huapeng pointed out one day when Finn was in his room, doing his math homework that seemed never-ending. "I need it for your card."

"Don't give me a card." He looked at her for a second and then back at his notebook. "Tell bàbà that I'm not wearing a Christmas hat when I work a shift." If that girl managed to take a picture of him in that hat, he would never live it down. Thankfully, Huapeng knew exactly what he was thinking and sighed.

"Since when do you care about what a girl thinks about you? Let's even ignore the fact that it's a girl. When do you care if a person thinks about you? Even in a Christmas hat, you look—"

"I dare you to finish that sentence."

"—awfully menacing," flawlessly finished Huapeng instead. Sometimes, Finn thought that his cousin came straight out of a sitcom. Either she was always like that, or she'd watched too many sitcoms.

"Thank you." Finn finished his problem and went onto the next one. "I don't condone stalking."

"You never cared so much before. What's so bad about her?"

Her hair. Her awfully dyed red hair that's the exact color of everything Mom reminds me of. The hair that reminds me of blood and lipstick and stained napkins and fire. "She dyes her hair."

"A lot of Asians dye their hair. Go to Asia."

"This girl lives in America."

Huapeng groaned, complaining in Mandarin now. She and his dad did that a lot, but with Finn's vocabulary on the low side, he could barely understand what they were saying most of the time. This was probably the consequence of raising a Chinese child in America.

"A natural redhead could not have that shade of red." He knew very well that Huapeng and his did didn't know of the nightmares that haunted him, but he wanted them to at least get a clue. The girl, on the other hand, had an excuse not to get a clue, since he couldn't just tell her that he hated her hair.

"Whatever you say, dìdi. I think you're going to fall for her soon. You are a guy, after all."

He scoffed. She was basically telling him to fall in love with his worst nightmare. Finn flipped the page in his textbook, and Huapeng took a seat on his bed and watched.

"I actually think you lack a sex drive. Is your body all right? You're a sophomore in high school, yet you haven't gone through that part of puberty yet."

"It's not a problem."

Huapeng stayed silent and watched him do his math homework. He had a feeling she wanted him to go downstairs and help in the shop.

"If I don't go down there," he argued, "the girl won't come."

She shrugged. "Maybe. You never know. Plus, do her a favor. It'll be worth it to make someone else happy besides yourself for once."

Finn wouldn't change his ways just for a girl.

"Just go downstairs for a shift in a few minutes."

"All right," Finn replied, deciding to give Huapeng something. Maybe it would make up for him not telling her his favorite color. Closing his textbook and straightening everything on his desk, he waved at his cousin as he headed downstairs. "I'll get rid of your favorite ice cream."

"You should be getting some, not trying to get rid of my favorite ice cream!"

"I'm underage. I shouldn't be getting some at all." Aware that the girl was going to come again, he prepared to put himself out of misery and give her two scoops of Moose Tracks ice cream on the house, despite that he claimed to not negotiate with terrorists.

Then again, the thought occurred to him that he might be one. Everyone at school avoided him, and he occasionally heard people talk about him behind his back, saying that he was hard to talk to. Finn had ignored the voices, but somewhere along the line, he realized that if he had been a little kinder, the voices would've avoided talking about him altogether. By then, it was too late to do anything about it.

At the bottom of the stairs, Finn saw his dad washing something in the sink. "I'll work for a while." His dad nodded.

"By the way, that girl, Kayleigh Leong, came a little earlier today. She's really polite, and she said she'd wait for you before she ordered. You know she can speak Mandarin?" Xidao laughed once he saw Finn's obvious pain.

This is what Tartarus must feel like. Grabbing his apron and name tag, he was about to head to the counter when he heard his dad say, "be nice to her" in Mandarin, causing Finn to sigh. Washing his hands behind the counter instead of in the kitchen, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the girl sitting at one of the tables in the corner of the room.

"Finn!" the girl exclaimed excitedly as soon as she saw him, jumping out of her seat and heading to the front counter to talk to him. "Hi!"

"Hi," he replied, blinking at her jumping. Was it normal for someone to be so happy this late at night?

"I saw you weren't at the counter, but I had nothing better to do, so I came in." She laughed, blushing a little. Was she always like this? Maybe this was the real her.

Unsure of what to say, he asked, "What would you like?"

Kayleigh seemed to notice his confusion, because the next things to come out of her mouth were neither happy or sparkly. "Two scoops of Moose Tracks, please, on a waffle cone." She then watched him scoop the ice cream despite seeing him do it for over seven weeks already. This girl was an absolute mystery. "Four-twenty, right?"

Finn opened his mouth to say, "no, it's on the house this time," but found himself handing her the chance and saying, "Have a nice day."

She smiled and walked away, waving with her free hand. "You too, Finn!" With that, she left the shop, and Finn was left to contemplate if he had voluntary control of his vocal cords like the rest of the world.

* * *

For the past nearly one-and-a-half years, Finn has been sitting alone every day at lunch, and had never once expected someone to approach him and speak to him, since most of his fellow students only spoke to him out of obligation.

However, right now, Finn was staring at a dark-skinned teenage boy, at least two years his senior, standing in front of him. After a long moment of silence, the teenager repeated his question.

"Do you have a partner yet for the group chem test?"

A few people around them turned to see what was going on now, and Finn tried to ignore their stares. The boy standing there was neither what Finn would call extremely attractive or fairly intelligent. With big brown eyes and thick, black-framed glasses, the boy looked like he didn't try too hard in class. Finn might've seen him a few times in organic chemistry, but since Finn didn't pay too much attention to his classmates, he was not sure if he had ever spoken to this boy before.

"Well? Do you?"

"I was going to take it alone." Finn turned back to his book, but the boy seemed to not have gotten a clue because he said,

"You can't just do it alone."

"We have an odd number of people in our class." Finn raised his hand to push his glasses up his nose before remembering he put on his contacts today, so he covered the motion up by flipping the page of his book. "I don't even know your name."

"You don't know my name?"

Finn shrugged rather rudely.

The boy sighed. Was Finn allowed to call him a boy when he was obviously older? "Please? I don't have anyone to take it with."

"Take it alone." Finn wasn't about to take an organic chemistry test with someone he hardly knew, but when the student still didn't move, Finn sighed. "I don't know anything about you."

He apparently took that as a challenge. "I'm Ignatius Mattu, a senior here, and my future goal is to become a chemist. I am a straight A student, and my favorite book is Hamlet by William Shakespeare. My shoe size is an eight, my blood type is O-, and my favorite type of chocolate is white,. My birthday is March 29, I'm an Aquarius, my favorite food is pasta, my vision is horrible, and I watch a ridiculous amount of—"

"What's your favorite ice cream flavor?" Finn asked, interrupting the boy, Ignatius, in his long rant, not wanting to hear more. Ignatius was obviously serious about wanting to be Finn's partner, but Finn couldn't see why.

"Vanilla."

Two thoughts occupied Finn's mind right then, one being "did he actually answer my question without questioning it?" and "how stupid is he to not question it?" Contemplating the information received about Ignatius with the boy's obvious eagerness, Finn eventually gave in. "I'll take it with you."

"That's it?"

"Ex post facto, Ignatius." He looked up at the senior and wondered why he would be friends with someone whose favorite flavor was vanilla. It was almost as bad as having strawberry ice cream as a favorite color. When Ignatius didn't leave, Finn raised an eyebrow.

"We're not going to set a date to study together or anything?"

"You're smart enough to study by yourself."

Ignatius wasn't satisfied, put his lunch down, and took the seat across from Finn. "That reminds me, you're a sophomore, right? How did you manage to get into organic chemistry?"

Finn shrugged. "I'm also the only one taking linear algebra."

The elder of the two looked startled. "You're in linear algebra? As a sophomore? Are you a prodigy or something? What's wrong with you? Why aren't you at Harvard or something?"

Finn wondered how Ignatius hadn't heard of him being in linear algebra; he assumed that it was common knowledge by the way the students in organic chemistry glared at Finn. "I was offered a math scholarship here."

"What math did you take in middle school?"

"Algebra II in eighth grade."

The senior continued to stare, probably at Finn's lack of emotions to his words. "And you're taking linear algebra now?"

"I just took math all year every year until now."

"Do you even have a life? Do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend?"

"My love life is nonexistent." Except for Kayleigh, was the unspoken ending to that sentence. Looking at Ignatius, Finn assumed that he was going to ask about science next. "I took physics last year."

"Are you some sort of genius? How has no one written a newspaper article on you?"

Shrugging, Finn didn't bother to tell Ignatius that he had won a chess tournament last year that had been covered by the press. It wasn't as though Finn was proud of this fact, since Huapeng had signed him up. "Anything else you'd like to know?"

"Have you ever been recruited for a school?"

"Here."

At this point, Ignatius's eyes were sparkling in admiration. "You are my new role model. Are your parents super smart?"

Finn's eyes widened, and he bit his cheek, remembering back to middle school, back to elementary school. His breathing became uneven for a second, and for a second, he thought the cafeteria was on fire, the influx of red bothering him. His vision kept reminding him of fire, blood, and everything else in between. It was hard to swallow, and his own saliva seemed to be stuck in his throat.

Thankful he was done with his lunch, he collected his stuff. "I've... got to make up a history test," Finn lied, quickly leaving the cafeteria, running as soon as he reached the hall. The sound of his feet hitting tile, the blur of classrooms around him was just a passing background, and by the time he stopped running, he found himself standing next to a bathroom. Pushing open the door, he went inside, and everything seemed to be spinning around his head without any indication of stopping.

He grabbed the edge of a sink to prevent himself from falling over, his head throbbing in beat with his heart. His tympanic membrane hurt as well, and when he looked down, he saw his snow white knuckles. Finn was relieved to find that he could see something other than red in this room, since anything red repulsed him. He hated fires. He hated lipstick. He hated strawberries. He hated the blood in his veins and arteries. He hated hemoglobin. It was ironic how the thing keeping him alive was the color that killed him. He couldn't help but laugh at the irony, and from the little of his laughing he could hear, it sounded like a crazed psychopath about to kill.

The sound soon disappeared from his ears, and he was desensitized to the pain. The throbbing in his head was reduced to a slight feeling, and Finn glanced around the bathroom, looking around with a sense of curiosity as he put his bag down. Running his hand on the tiled walls, he kept looking for something here that was less than perfection.

Remember, jiāxīn-dì, everything has to be up-to-standard, a coaxing voice whispered in his mind suddenly, and shutting his eyes, Finn punched the wall as hard as he could, hoping that he could draw blood. Why couldn't he have hemocyanin or some other protein instead of hemoglobin?

Finn learned long ago the lesson about monsters. Monsters weren't fictitious or under the bed, but they were the results of your own conscious mind and fear. To think that a person's monsters were just a reflection of themselves—that was probably the scariest thing of all.

Something out of the corner of his eye reached his notice, and kneeling, he saw the one imperfection in the room, something someone had written there in black Sharpie. Tilting his head to the side, he read it and was suddenly consumed with this fire to erase it. The desire ate his insides, and before he could do anything he'd regret, he took a deep breath in an attempt to get rid of the elephant on his chest and headed to class.

ENDNOTES

As the title suggests, this is a preview of Winter Cold. The full edited version can now be found on Tapas, so simply go to the website or app, enter 'Winter Cold' up in the search bar, and you should be able to find it! I love Tapas and use it on a regular basis, so I was super happy when I got the offer to put Winter Cold on Tapas.

In order to read Winter Cold, you have to buy episodes (which are sections of the novel). To buy episodes, you have to use coins (the currency on Tapas), which can be bought with real money or get by watching ads on the app or through giveaways. It's really simple, and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask!

The first three episodes will always be for free, so if you decide you don't like it, then you don't have to waste your money on other episodes. (The first three episodes of Winter Cold on Tapas are the first two chapters! So you just finished reading the three episode preview.)

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Thank you for reading!