The boy was a bit taller than him but not too much older, so Sammy figured the rule against talking to adults didn't count. "...Sammy." He frowned down at the ice cream, sparing a moment of regret that it was gone and the effort was wasted.
Between the run and the pleasant warmth of the strange room, Sammy's face was flushed and he was starting to feel hot. He was dressed for cold, real cold: a thick padded jacket against the windchill and boots instead of tennis shoes. Only Sammy would want an ice cream in the wintery Colorado. (Then again, maybe it was the breaking the rule that Sammy had wanted, not the ice cream.) He tugged at his jacket collar, freeing his throat from some of the snaps and looking around again. "Did you come through the store too?"