Chapter 10
Sitting at the counter of my new job, I wonder if I should have mentioned to Grid that I had to head on over work quickly, since I wanted to stop by my house before I did. Driving from school back to home, and then to work makes this long trip that takes some time, and even if I wanted to, it'd take thirty minutes as a minimum. I thought about texting her, since I was already leaving school, but my hands were already on the wheel, and I'm not texting and driving, no matter how hip it's supposed to be!
But still, I feel a little guilty for not talking directly to Grid and Greg, and Bennet too since I do know him now. There's something good to me about not texting, calling, or using technology, but actually engaging in conversation with a person. I mean, texting is fine, but it should be simple. Social dynamics are complicated. Thinking and also stuck in a mental conundrum, I sigh and quickly text Grid saying that I had to go to work and was in rush. It's not an excuse, but at least I said something.
"What wrong Cayce? Feeling a little down?" asks Mrs. Miller, the owner of the sweet shop, as well as my boss, as she notices my sigh.
"No," I reply, "just a little tired. From getting used to a new school and all."
"Hmm. Well, don't worry, you'll get used to it," she says.
Mrs. Miller is a nice lady. She's a tall middle-aged lady, and it's very nice that my boss happens to be her. Her dirty blond hair is tied back in a bun, and she wears a cute apron over her blouse and skirt. She has a really gentle voice that sounds to me like church bells when she talks. It's great that I got a job too. I do get an allowance, but this is the first time I'm earning money on my own. And I think the pay's good. Around ten dollars an hour. I've never worked so I couldn't tell you if that was a good rate or not, but for me, it works out just fine.
My job is pretty easy. When customers come in, I help them get the sweets and candies and cakes and whatever else they want, then I wrap it all up and give it to them. Apparently around Christmas, it gets really busy around the shop, because a lot of families place special orders for cakes and even candy canes. Mrs. Miller and her husband make the cakes, and Mr. Miller is the one who makes some of the more elaborate sweets sold around the shop.
After school ended, I drove home once to drop off my stuff. I pretended that I had robot maids to catch my backpack as I threw it into the house, but that might've broken something. I'll have to check in on that when I get home since I did head something crack. Living alone allows you to act as if nobody's watching, and in my case, that might not be a good idea since my reckless, young, and somewhat loony side gets to run rampant.
The sweet shop is located on the other end of Main Street from the parking lot. Because I didn't feel like parking my car and walking, and then once I'm done walk back to the car only to turn around and drive down the way I came to get home, I just walked. It's not that far anyhow from here to my house. When nobody's looking, I can strip my shirt and fly anyhow.
It's been a couple of hours since I got here, and some people came in around four or five-ish. But it's been relatively quiet since. Right now it's almost six. Mrs. Miller is in the back with her husband helping to make some sweets. The weather outside is cloudy, but it seems to have stopped raining. But the streets still shine with water.
The nonexistent traffic coming into the sweet shop lets me and my mind wander. It goes over some books I read and then to what I had to spend lunch hour asking teachers about. Apparently different schools teach different things at different times. It makes me wonder if education really is public, or if it's a little more than that which I should know. In any which way, I'm just always trying my best to learn what I have to.
Then, my mind goes on over to Bennet. I did meet him today, and his little puppy face pops up in my head. I wonder if his hair is naturally curly like that. It's not like it's super curly, but it certainly is curled. But, I can definitely tell that he and Grid are twins. They would probably be on magazine covers in the future while I'm either living off Dad's money or trying to create a social circle around me of people who I can match in physical appearance.
Thinking now, Bennet most definitely was happy to have my as a friend. Probably nothing more. I mean, he acted like Greg a lot, just a little more intense. I mean, I think he did, anyways. I'm sure if I told this to anybody, they'd say that maybe Bennet likes me.
But then, maybe Bennet likes me. And there was that strange fluttering feeling in my chest. I didn't realize until after I left him to go ask questions during lunch hour, but during the time I was with him, I felt really fuzzy and warm inside. It was a very nice feeling. And when I wasn't around him it was clear that I didn't have that feeling where I felt I was levitating around. It I was levitating around, that'd be kinda cool, but then everybody would look at me as if I was an alien. But still, I recognize that I still have it now, and I miss the fuzzy-wuzzy feeling. I wonder what it was...
I hear steps coming from behind, and see Mrs. and Mr. Miller come out from the back of the store. "Hey, Cayce. Mr. Miller and I are going to go buy some supplies for the store. Mind holding down the store for us?" asks Mrs. Miller.
"I'd be glad to," I say with a smile. Mrs. Miller smiles back.
"You know, you can snack on some of the sweets if you want to. I wouldn't mind. If we don't sell all these, we'll have to throw it out anyway," says Mr. Miller in his deep, rich voice. Mr. Miller is a tall guy, with chestnut-colored hair and green eyes. Mrs. Miller has grey eyes. They both make a really lovely couple.
"Well, if you say so," I say, "but I don't eat a lot of snacks. That's probably why I look like I'm vegan," I joke. They both chuckle. Waving to them I watch them leave the store, the bell on the door ringing as they do. I watch them walk off before I lay my chin on top of my hands on the counter. Bored, and waiting for a customer. I think for a second I should take the sign that's on the mantel of the store, go outside, and start shouting for attention and people to stop by, but I'm sure I would scare everybody away. Therefore, I still sit here and wait for customers instead.
Stepping off my stool behind the counter, I look through the sweets that are stacked in giant glass jars. Peering through the glass, I see the shiny sugar and chocolate sweets that are offered. If somebody came in right now, they'd think I was stealing from my bosses. Whatever.
Removing the lid from a couple of jars, I grab a sweet from each one. Putting the lid back on each one, I gather up my plunders and return to my stool. I eat through the sweets taking my time with each one, so by the time I'm done, It's been almost forty minutes.
Gathering up the clear plastic wrappers, I throw them in the trash bin under the counter. Looking up at the clock, I see that it's five minutes past closing time.
I walk around the counter and flip the sign on the door to 'closed' and check the window locks.
Eating those sweets has made me thirsty.
Walking back around the counter, I reach under it where I put my bag. Grabbing my water bottle I take a swig. The sweets that looked like spring skies was nice, maybe I'll have some more, I think.
Opening the jar of said candy, I reach and in and take two. They have a nice blue color to them. I'll eat it while I wait for them to get back I think. Eating also makes me think about dinner, and I think back to how I did have a nice little meal of fish and chips ready at home. I am definitely interested in that meal, and am not going to miss it.
As I think about the immaculate meal that I will be cooking for myself to enjoy, I stop my movements as I try to remember if I turned on the stove when I got home. I did spend a minute or two to get water and also just set out some things like the dishes and kitchenware so that when I got home I could cook quickly and eat, and then study a little before heading to bed. I can't remember if I turned on the stove or not. I'm dead certain I didn't, largely because I'm not baking the fish. But now that I'm questioning myself, I can't tell if I did. Questioning oneself is a horrible practice!
Slightly panicking, I pack up my things and quickly write a note on the counter explaining the dilemma of mine to Mr. and Mrs. Miller. They'll probably understand. I mean, if an oven is on, then my house could be burning! That would be absolutely catastrophic!
While packing my things, I hear the front door jingle open. I was packing in this way where I was putting my belongings in my bag while also trying to eat one of the candies I got from the jar, and when I look up and see it's not Mrs. and Mr. Miller, the candy drops out as I see who it is. Not shocked negatively or positively, just surprised.
Bennet.
I wonder what he could be doing here?