down three times with a brown paper towel I snatched back in the poultry section.
This is stupid. I can do this. I’ve done it before. Hell, when she ripped my heart out in high school, I had to find ways to occupy my thoughts. I found ways to avoid her or ignore the fact she was in the same room as me. Why is it so hard now?
As I make my way to the dairy section I see a flick of red hair. It’s pulled up into a high messy bun. Sarah. She’s bent over, digging through a cardboard box. She grabs what looks to be yogurt and stacks them in their proper spots.
I take a deep breath and scoot my cart over to her. If I get this over with now, maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe my damn heart will quit hammering in my chest. Maybe this tightening feeling in my stomach will go away every time I think about her. Maybe my dick will stop getting hard whenever I think about or see her. Who the hell am I kidding? If that didn’t stop after a year, it probably never will. Damn thing has a mind of its own.
“Hi.”
She startles and looks at me. Her hand clings to her chest just over her heart. “Graham! You scared me! What are you doing here?”
“Mom needed groceries for Thanksgiving.” I shrug like it’s no big thing. “Why are you stocking the shelves? I thought you work the registers.”
“I do when it’s my schedule. I took on someone else’s shift.”
I nod. “Cool. Well, I’ll, uh, let you get back to it then.”
She smiles at me. “Thanks.”
I roll my cart away from her. My body still seems to hum around her. I’m screwed.
As I’m checking out, I spot her in the front of the store. She’s hanging around the customer service station, chatting with the girl named Michelle. I watch as Sarah laughs and shakes her head. She looks happy. About what? Hell if I know, but it makes me a little jealous. I used to make her smile and laugh. Now … shit, she can barely stand looking at me.
A tall guy approaches them. He has short, blondish hair and looks about twenty, give or take. His eyes trail up and down Sarah’s frame, and I clench my fists. It takes every bit of strength in me not to go over there and snap that twit in two. She’s mine!
His hand brushes over Sarah’s shoulder, and I swear I see red! Mine, mother—
“Sir, would you like paper or plastic?” comes a small, meek voice.
“What?”
“Paper or plastic?”
I blink at the tiny girl asking me the question. “It doesn’t matter.”
She smiles and starts scanning my groceries. I glance over at the customer service station again, but Sarah’s no longer there. Tall dude, however, still is. My shoulders drop as my body relaxes a little. It doesn’t last. The relaxing feeling, that is. What if he’s waiting for Sarah? Maybe she’s getting something from her locker or whatever.
I white-knuckle the cart. This tightness in my chest worsens. I fucking hate this feeling. I’ve got to get over it, though. Have to.
“That will be $170.”
I blink at the girl. What? Oh, groceries. Duh. As I pay for the groceries, load up the cart, and slowly make my way to the exit, I don’t know why, but I’m hoping for another glimpse of Sarah. I don’t get it.
***
A few days later, my phone rings. “Hey, Bryce.”
“You busy?”
“Just helping with the laundry. What’s up?”
He laughs. “You? Laundry? Shut up! This I have to see.”
“Fuck yourself! I’m not the world’s laziest human ever. Contrary to what you might think.”
“Bullshit! Your mom did everything, man. Fuck. I’m surprised you even know how to wipe your own butt.”
“Ha-ha. What else did you want besides busting my balls?”
“Just got into town. I dropped Hails off at her folks’, and I was heading over to see your punk ass.”
“I’m here. Just pull in behind the beater.”
He laughs again. “All right, man.”
It literally is less than a minute when the front door flies open and Bryce strolls right into my living room as if he owns the
This is stupid. I can do this. I’ve done it before. Hell, when she ripped my heart out in high school, I had to find ways to occupy my thoughts. I found ways to avoid her or ignore the fact she was in the same room as me. Why is it so hard now?
As I make my way to the dairy section I see a flick of red hair. It’s pulled up into a high messy bun. Sarah. She’s bent over, digging through a cardboard box. She grabs what looks to be yogurt and stacks them in their proper spots.
I take a deep breath and scoot my cart over to her. If I get this over with now, maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe my damn heart will quit hammering in my chest. Maybe this tightening feeling in my stomach will go away every time I think about her. Maybe my dick will stop getting hard whenever I think about or see her. Who the hell am I kidding? If that didn’t stop after a year, it probably never will. Damn thing has a mind of its own.
“Hi.”
She startles and looks at me. Her hand clings to her chest just over her heart. “Graham! You scared me! What are you doing here?”
“Mom needed groceries for Thanksgiving.” I shrug like it’s no big thing. “Why are you stocking the shelves? I thought you work the registers.”
“I do when it’s my schedule. I took on someone else’s shift.”
I nod. “Cool. Well, I’ll, uh, let you get back to it then.”
She smiles at me. “Thanks.”
I roll my cart away from her. My body still seems to hum around her. I’m screwed.
As I’m checking out, I spot her in the front of the store. She’s hanging around the customer service station, chatting with the girl named Michelle. I watch as Sarah laughs and shakes her head. She looks happy. About what? Hell if I know, but it makes me a little jealous. I used to make her smile and laugh. Now … shit, she can barely stand looking at me.
A tall guy approaches them. He has short, blondish hair and looks about twenty, give or take. His eyes trail up and down Sarah’s frame, and I clench my fists. It takes every bit of strength in me not to go over there and snap that twit in two. She’s mine!
His hand brushes over Sarah’s shoulder, and I swear I see red! Mine, mother—
“Sir, would you like paper or plastic?” comes a small, meek voice.
“What?”
“Paper or plastic?”
I blink at the tiny girl asking me the question. “It doesn’t matter.”
She smiles and starts scanning my groceries. I glance over at the customer service station again, but Sarah’s no longer there. Tall dude, however, still is. My shoulders drop as my body relaxes a little. It doesn’t last. The relaxing feeling, that is. What if he’s waiting for Sarah? Maybe she’s getting something from her locker or whatever.
I white-knuckle the cart. This tightness in my chest worsens. I fucking hate this feeling. I’ve got to get over it, though. Have to.
“That will be $170.”
I blink at the girl. What? Oh, groceries. Duh. As I pay for the groceries, load up the cart, and slowly make my way to the exit, I don’t know why, but I’m hoping for another glimpse of Sarah. I don’t get it.
***
A few days later, my phone rings. “Hey, Bryce.”
“You busy?”
“Just helping with the laundry. What’s up?”
He laughs. “You? Laundry? Shut up! This I have to see.”
“Fuck yourself! I’m not the world’s laziest human ever. Contrary to what you might think.”
“Bullshit! Your mom did everything, man. Fuck. I’m surprised you even know how to wipe your own butt.”
“Ha-ha. What else did you want besides busting my balls?”
“Just got into town. I dropped Hails off at her folks’, and I was heading over to see your punk ass.”
“I’m here. Just pull in behind the beater.”
He laughs again. “All right, man.”
It literally is less than a minute when the front door flies open and Bryce strolls right into my living room as if he owns the
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