High and Dry | miguel diaz

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"De regresó!" Ivy smiled at the cashier who was placing a pizza on the display.

"No que estaba enojado por no traerle un pedazo de carne?" She raised her eyebrows as he laughed.

"La carne asada de su padre esta muy buena. What can I say?" He smiled.

Ivy laughed and walked towards the slushee machines where she took a small cup and put it under the cherry flavor then to blueberry. It had a weird taste but she promised herself she would cut back on drug store chips. The pizza and food weren't the best tasting items either, a combination of cardboard and feet.

"Excuse me." A boy wearing a grey sweater said as he stared at her. Ivy didn't respond, moving from the slushee machines and to the cashier, a blonde man was crouching slightly to see the pizza options which, again, looked unappetizing to her.

Ivy handed the cashier five bucks and waited in line for her change, "mm, that one." The man said. The cashier looked at Ivy and she waved a hand, letting him know he could take his time. After all, she wasn't exactly trying to go home.

While everyone seemed to have the summer of their lives, Ivy spent most of time crying in her rooms - the room at her mom's and the room at her dad's. Although they'd been talking about getting a divorce, their separation would take less time and her dad was in rush to leave, resulting in Ivy being stuck to see him take his things out of their once-shared family home. He didn't say goodbye or even look at her, saying, "tell your mom I'll see her soon," and slamming the door.

Although she hated the arguing and yelling, it left her missing her dad and the nice moments they shared as a unit, like dinners where they talked about music and movies and shows. The good moments that everyone thought happened all the time, the apple pie life as her dad called it.

Now, all she got was forced visits and having to see her dad form a new, sweet family over the summer while her mom worked endless hours at the hospital. Her dad, Manuel, hardly spent time with her and when he did, he gushed over how he was happier now and how he'd rather go to jail than to marry her mom, Veronica, again.

"I speak english asshole." Ivy snapped out of her head and looked as the cashier slapped the pizza slice in the blonde man's hand who threw his cash at him. Ivy snorted, took her change and moved to the side for the boy in the grey to pay for his medicine.

"My grandma's not feeling good."

"Oh," Ivy mumbled, "sorry to hear that."

The boy stumbled a few feet back as he threw his change in his pocket. Ivy turned her gaze at the selection of candies near the display. The cashier snickered, "he was checking you out, güera. Go chase him, you'll have someone to pay for your slushees." Ivy blushed and shook her head.

"I am leaving. I'll see you tomorrow."

He chuckled, "cuídate güera."

Ivy turned around and flinched as she looked at Kyler walk into the mart, "long time, no see. Where'd you hide off to?" Ivy made a face and laughed.

"The whole towering-over-me thing is starting to get embarrassing. Grow a few inches and it might scare me."

"I have a few inches you can take."