RODRICK'S RULES

An Unexpected Apology

Roxanna:

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It was a bright and sunny Saturday at Vick's Vinyls, and I was going through the weekend inventory. The store had just gotten a new shipment chocked full of CDs and vinyl records, but what I was most excited about were the book donations.

Vick's was all about the music--but they didn't want to exclude the more mundane entertainment consumers either. That's why, back when the store first opened, Mr. Vick installed a few wooden bookshelves in a small section of the store. There, every week, he'd update the collection of books, sifting through whatever donations people chose to offer up.

Now, it was my turn. I got to cultivate this crop of books however I wanted, and I quickly became consumed by the task. It felt like only a few minutes had gone while I was alphabetizing the romantic literature when suddenly I felt a draft and a creepy feeling like someone was hovering over me. Before I could check to see if my instincts were correct, a loud splutter of words came from from behind my back. 

"HEY, DO YOU GUYS HAVE ANY MORE OF THESE NEW CD'S?!!" a random voice blurted.

Startled, I spun around to meet a familiar face half-hidden behind a stack of CDs.

"Oh, hi," said a surprised and confused Rodrick Heffley. "I, um, I didn't know you worked here." He struggled under his stack of CD's, eyeing me suspiciously. 

"Ya, I just started," I said, a bit agitated. 

Rodrick awkwardly looked around the room, like he didn't know what to say. I put my hands on my hips, signaling my growing impatience. 

Rodrick reluctantly returned his gaze to me, scratching his head as he spoke. "Well...I'm gonna go buy all of these now." He lifted his CDs in a quick gesture like here's-my-excuse-to-get-away-from-you before pacing off towards checkout. That was...unpleasant. This better not be a normal thing.

A week went by, Chem was still a silent struggle having to deal with Rodrick's constant presence, but I thought work might give me some well needed space to myself. Boy was I wrong.

I thought after that first day of work where I dipped out early to avoid seeing Rodrick, I'd never have to see him at Vick's again. But then, he showed up at the record store again, blurting and shrieking about CDs--almost giving me a heart attack I might add--and THAT wasn't even the end of it.

The entire week, almost everyday, Rodrick showed up at the store. He had a routine, and I quickly caught onto it. He'd head straight to the rock & metal section, flip through the stacks of CDs, then he'd walk around and peruse the remaining music selections, and all the while he'd not-so-secretively send glances my way. It was weird his being there, but it was really more annoying. The one place I thought I could relax and focus on what I enjoyed, he just had to barge in on.

Finally on Friday, I decided I'd confront Rodrick, demand to know why he was bothering me, and tell him to screw off. I was labeling some worn-down cassette tapes when he walked in. I thought he'd cut over to his usual section of music, but he scanned the store, almost like he was looking for someone. Then, he saw me, and suddenly I was extremely nervous.

His expression was determined as he strode over to where I was standing across the room. I stood frozen, waiting anxiously for his approach. Why was I nervous? He should be the one freaking out!

Rodrick came to a halt infront of me, looking down he rubbed his arm like he was working up the courage to say something. He met gaze again, and I couldn't help be think he looked like a sad puppy with his chocolate eyes staring at me.

"Hey, Roxanna." 

I kept quiet, keeping my gaze focused on him. He was in the hot seat.

"I, uh, well I..." He was scratching his arm now, his eyes darting around a little. "...I came here to, um, to say sorry."

I wanted to throttle him, to scream in his face and tell him what a selfish jerk he was, but I stayed silent. He seemed to register the subsurface, bubbling rage emanating off of me because he spoke up again.

"I'm sorry for the accident in the lab and for leaving you to clean up the mess, and I'm sorry for making Jerkshire hate you. I didn't mean for that to happen." As he babbled, my anger began to wear off. An apology, even a late one at that, was really out of character for Rodrick, and it was really starting to scare me. 

Collecting my thoughts, my anger and confusion towards Rodrick subsided to general annoyance. My eyes narrowed as I crossed my arms, slapping on an extra layer of aggravated sass. "It's kind of late for an apology."

Rodrick rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Look, this apology crap is kind of hard for me, and I'm not trying to make excuses, but I didn't mean to ditch you to deal with the lab stuff. My mom had some stuff going on with my little brother, so I had to leave early to go pick up my other brother from school."

Oh, I didn't realize he could have other stuff going on. I kinda just always assumed he didn't give two shits about anything, so why would he stay to help his uptight lab partner clean up a mess. Now, I'd found out he'd only ditched me to help his family. I started getting a sick sympathetic feeling in my chest.

My hardened expression softened a bit, but my eyes still kept their vexing glare. "Okay, well you could have at least let me know."

Rodrick cocked his head, smiling sarcastically. "--And how do you suppose I could have done that?" he said slightly mockingly.

I shook my head, turning away from him to grab the label maker I'd used on the cassettes. Punching in a few keys, I hit print, and a new sticker popped out. Moving back around, I unpeeled the adhesive strip and smacked it onto Rodrick's chest. "Here. So you have no more excuses."

He peeled the sticker off his shirt, examining the 10-digit cell number printed onto it. He looked up at me, his eyebrows raised, and his face in a contorted grin.

I wagged my finger at him. "Now don't you go getting any bright ideas, this is just a precaution for accountability purposes."

His face shifted back into his normal, sarcastic smirk. Sticking his hand out, he nodded at me. "Alrighty, Shepherd. Truce?"

I hesitated for a moment before giving in and shaking his hand. "Truce."

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A/N: I know this chapter wasn't that good, but I'd been asked by an ~anonymous~ fan to update sooner, so I decided to quickly get something up for y'all. I have a good idea for what the next chapter's going to be about, so keep an eye out, but for now toodles! - xoxo, Alex