A Furry Story

Chapter 6 - Scoop Me Some

Shortest chapter ever. 

***

The worst part of hitting a girl with a car is to see someone you clearly don’t want to see in this point of time.

That was what I felt when I saw Damien walking towards us, I know I should have felt more concerned with the girl’s well-being, but him walking towards me was making me feel nervous. I focused my gaze on the girl, who had blood stains on the handkerchief I gave her.

She was already sitting up when my father went out of the car to check up on her. At almost the same time, Damien kneeled and patted her shoulder repeatedly. I smelled a bit of his smell, and he smelled like minty toothpaste. Weird but true, right?

“God, that was crazy!” He muttered. “Are you alright? Who would ever do such a thing, like they shouldn’t be speeding off like that! They could have,”

I cleared my throat, trying to mentally tell him that that that person who would never do such a thing, was us. “We didn’t mean it.” I silently said. He looked at me, suddenly acknowledging my existence.

The last time I actually had a decent conversation with him was when we were in grade school. I was just hanging there with my friends and I had the sudden urge to go to the swings.

But seeing that everyone had already occupied the swing set, I just looked at them desperately. But because he’s Damien Johnson, he walked up to me, shouting to the other kids that he had dibbed on the swing and said.

“You can use my swing.” And that was it. Until then, I was one of his meek admirers, hanging out in the alleyways of McHale High, wondering why someone was created so perfectly.

As I thought of that semi-dramatic flashback, it didn’t even slip my mind that he was currently looking at me. “Oh, sorry.” He said with a weak smile that I did not return.

I looked at the girl again, but she wasn’t there anymore, and I was facing her knees. Turns out she already stood up. I was still kneeling so I stood up sprightly. “Let me take you to the hospital.”

She shook her head vigorously. “That is a big N-O. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

But before I can even say anything else, she started walking to the other side of the street as fast as a cheetah and I was left alone with Damien by my side. I looked at him with a sideward glance and I saw that he looked at the girl with obvious pity in his face.

I was just looking at his symmetrical face when he looked at me. “Oh, hey.”

“Hi.” I awkwardly replied.

“You sure she’s going to be okay?”

“I don’t know. But she did seem to be in a hurry and the gash wasn’t really deep so, uh, I don’t know.”

He looked at me then back at the coffee shop. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I have to go.” He held out his hand. “Until our stars meet again?”

I took the handshake. “Until our stars meet again.”

I walked back to the car, feeling immensely awkward with myself.

Did I just touch Damien’s hand?

***

“Well, well, well, look who we’ve got here.” Bree said as she looked at my YOLO t-shirt, (Don’t judge me, I just grabbed anything on top of my wardrobe), and denim jeans with orange flip flops that makes my feet feel soft. “Looks like someone prepared for a little action.”

I smiled because of her snappy remark. She reminds me of Emily too much. “I am, I come with an air of positivity and determination!”

I made this superman pose and she chuckled. I dropped it and said, “Except for the part where my dad and I hit a girl with our car but let’s not talk about that.”

A look of shock spread around her face but was quickly replaced with hysterical laughter. She started laughing like a maniac and started slapping her knee that it was all too traumatizing to look at.

Once she composed herself, she stood up dramatically and said, “Okay, let’s do this.”

I nodded.

She led me to a small room full of cleaning supplies and already, I was starting to feel scared. I looked at the cleaning supplies when something caught my eye.

There was a yellow sticky note. Bree plucked it from the thing that it was stuck on and started reading the message.

“Dearest Bree,” She started. “Here is the first task given to Alli—what’s her name again? Anyway, show her the ropes!”

I didn’t know if I should take that as an insult or flattery but I just kept quiet about it. That sarcastic streak that I had quickly faded when I saw what the cleaning utensil was; there, hanging on a hook in front of me,

…Was a pink pooper scooper.