A Juicy Adventure

Chapter 1

The sky is gray and gloomy as you look out of the window overlooking the Jamba Juice parking lot. You feel the gloom reflected in your soul as you think about your job. Blinking your blue and green asymmetric orbs, you ponder your situation. Sometimes you get weird stares at your eyes. Heterochromia, you think to yourself, two differently colored irises. Unlike most people your age, you tend to know lots of big, scientific words, and sometimes you have to dumb it down so others can understand your complex thoughts. You pull a strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear- the faded claw clip in your peppery brown hair doesn't quite hold all of your hair back since a couple of the teeth broke off, but you can't afford another one. Your mom made you work every day over the summer to fuel her drug addiction, and even though you are just a high schooler that doesn't want to party and shop all day like other girls, reading allows you to escape to a reality where you might be happy. Due to the sad weather, the shop has been pretty slow so you begin to dive deeper into your realistic fiction novel when you are broken out of your reverie by the harsh ringing of the phone. "Oh!" You exclaim as your book falls closed without the bookmark. Kevin, your coworker, looks over at you but when you reach for the phone, he lets you answer.
"Thanks for calling Jamba Juice, this is y/n," you say sweetly, embracing your customer service persona.
"Hello y/n. This is Corporate. We need some help with inventory. If you are efficient today, we would like to offer you a promotion," a suave British man's voice crooned. He sounded oddly familiar like she's known him forever. While you usually saw yourself as one of the boys, for some reason, the way he addresses you makes you feel like a woman.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Corporate?" You say teasingly. Kevin looks over at you with a confused look on his face. The man on the phone chuckles heartily, making your heart flutter.
"I need you to count the money in the safe for us. Can you do that, sugar?" You blush at the pet name and nod frantically, even though he can't see you. "Well..." he inquires.
"Erm, yes, I'll do it now. Would you like to stay on the phone?" You ask, trying to recover.
"I would love to," he says, emphasizing the word love. You scamper to the safe and quickly type in 3825. It opens, and you count all of the cash.
"1,069," you exclaim proudly.
"Perfect, now, I would like you to take the stack of cash to CVS and use it to purchase a VISA card. We can do this, together," he says, and you can sense how proud he is of you.
"Of course, but how will I know what to do after that? I can't take the landline that far away from the store," you say as the realization dawns on you. Your heart plummets when you think about hanging up on the man.
"Hmmm, that could be an issue, couldn't it. Could I get your cell number?" He asks gently. You know it is only a work thing, but you feel a blush coming over your pale, freckled cheeks.
"Uh, sure, it's 660-420-6969," you mumble, caught off guard. He laughs that laugh again.
"My lucky day. I'll call you back in a moment," he says and you hear the click as the call disconnects.
"What was that about?" Kevin asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Corporate needs me to run an errand, I'll be back in a few minutes," you say as you grab your keys and stride to the door.
"Are you sure that's corporate? That doesn't sound right. What if it was a scammer?" Kevin asks, concern etched in his forehead. For some reason, his question sets off a fire in you.
"I don't like what you are implying, Kevin. What would you do if corporate heard about your insurrection? I perspicaciously considered every alternative, and have no intentions to displease corporate. WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM, KEVIN???" He stares at you with his head tilted slightly like a confused beagle. "It means carefully, Kevin, get with it," you huff out, having no patience to deal with inferior vocabulary. Annoyed, Kevin walked back into the storage room, and you sigh with relief. Right as you set foot in your car, your outdated android cell phone rings with an unfamiliar number. Accepting the call sent a shiver down your spine.
"Hello, is this y/n," he asks. You smile as you hear your name roll off his tongue.
"It depends, is this Mr. Corporate?" You ask again, wondering if he will catch your reference. His deep laugh affirms that he did.
"Affirmative. I've missed you. Are you heading to CVS?" he inquires. You nod and sit in silence until you remember that he can't see you.
"Yeah, I'm heading out now," you push your foot on the gas and cross into the adjacent shopping center. As you walk into CVS your foot catches the curb and you tumble to the ground, dropping your phone, and it clatters to the ground.
"y/n? Y/N?" You hear his voice from the phone calling for you in concern and his British accent seems to take over when he isn't so guarded. It almost made falling worth it. You quickly grab your phone.
"I'm ok, it was just an incommodity," you say before quickly correcting yourself. "That means an in-"
"Inconvenience," he says, cutting you off. At that moment, you felt something that you'd never felt before. It has been a long time since anyone was anywhere nearly as intelligent as you, and it scared you but was also invigorating.
"Well, yeah. I'm heading in for real this time," you say, hoping to hide the shock in your voice. You walk straight to the cash register and put the cash on the countertop. However, when you look at the gift cards, there are only MasterCards, not Visa. "Is a MasterCard alright? That's all I can find," you ask nervously as the cashier eyes you and then the cash. He is quiet on the line for a moment before he seductively whispers.
" Even better, y/n. That is perfect," You feel the blood drain from your face as you push the money towards the cashier.
"I would like to load all of this, please," You say to her, again trying to recover.
"Are you sure about that, hun? I think you might be getting scammed..." You once again feel your blood boiling.
"I despise what you are insinuating. Let me do my job," you seethe, forgetting that you are still on your phone until you hear slow applause. She resigns and charges you for the card and hands it to you. You go back out to the car and prepare to head back to Jamba Juice, but before you do, he speaks up again.
"We're almost done, you have done so well, and we reward our loyal employees. Before you go back, will you read me the card number, y/n?" he asks sincerely, and you quickly recite it to him. "Perfect, lastly, I would like you to drive to the local airport with me, can you do that?"
"Of course," you murmur, not wanting the conversation to end but hoping to please corporate. You are nearly there when he interrupts the silence.
"Here, pull over to the side of the road," he asks. You feel your heart stop for a moment. Why would he ask that? You do it anyway and say nothing. "I want you to take the card, and throw it out of the window, as far as you can," he whispers. Suddenly, you realize what has been done, but it is too late.
"W-why did you ask this of me?" you stammer as tears of betrayal sting your multifaceted orbs. You hear a soft chuckle.
"You've helped me a lot today, y/n, I won't forget that," he says right before he hangs up. Then out of frustration, you throw the card as hard as you can, not wanting the reminder. Never in your life have you felt so dirty and unwanted! You spend a couple of hours curled on the ground next to the highway until the sun goes down and you force yourself to get back in the car and drive back to your miserable home. Before you go, you look at the watchtower and see the silhouette of a mysterious man in a tux, almost like a guardian angel.