The Pain of We (ON HOLD)

16

I walked into the liquor store the next day, my head held high, my mind filled with false hope. "I'd like to work here." I told Candice, my face serious.

She laughed, leaning in close so her only other customer couldn't hear. "Darlin', I risk enough sellin' you beer underaged, what do benefit do you think hiring you underaged will do?"

"I'm seventeen, old enough for any job. I don't see why I can't work this one. If it's the alcohol you're worried about, then I don't have to run the register, I could sweep and mop and restock."

"What makes you think I need the help?"

"You're the only one that works here. Maybe you don't need the help, but you sure would like it."

"I don't even have an application,"

"I don't need to be on record. Consider it community service. You don't even have to pay me minimum wage."

Candice narrowed her eyes at me. "Why do you want a job now? Why didn't you ask when you first turned sixteen?"

I bit my lip. "I didn't have a real reason to save up money then. Now I do."

"And what's that reason?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out. Do I have the job, or what?"

Candice gave me another once over. "Be here Monday right after school and I'll put you to work. Understood?"

I gave a small smile. "I knew you'd let me work, Candi,"

"Do not call me Candi. I am Candice. Always have been, always will be."

I walked to the door, my hand on the handle. I looked over my shoulder smirking, "Yes, Miss Candice," I walked out.

...
I was to wear a black shirt with black pants and black shoes. If I wanted a nametag, I'd have to get my own. I would be paid exactly seven dollars an hour, and I was okay with that. It was seven times as much as I was making without a job.

The thoughts of Christmas hung in the back of my mind. I might be able to get you a gift if I start saving, but what would you want? I'll have to ask once we get closer to the holiday. For now I am going to focus on restocking the wines.

One thing I noticed quickly after my first hour there was that I loved to look at the bottles' designs. The shape and colors amazed me, how you could get so many variations in the glass. I started to think about what they might taste like, and then I got mad curious.

But I vowed long ago never to drink.

Not. Even. A. Drop.

It was Friday night at last, and I was taking break. I sat on the stool by the door and looked at my phone, seeing if I had any new texts.

From you: any plans tomorrow night?

I texted quickly: no. why...?

My phone buzzed in my hands. From you: I thought you might like to go to the Halloween dance with me. It might be fun.

I bit my lip, then texted: do we have to dress up?

"Get off your phone and back to work, Lark," Candice said, emerging from the office.

I clicked off the screen and slid the black plastic back in my pocket. "Yes, Miss Candice," I grabbed the broom and started to sweep.

...
I pulled on my hood and thanked Candice. I started down the street when I remembered that you texted during the shift.

From you: no you don't have to dress up. Is that a yes?

I smiled and replied quite simply: yes.

...
Saturday morning I made my father breakfast and got to work cleaning. I raked leaves outside for an hour and bagged them up. I swept the porch and vacuumed and cleaned the kitchen and living room and bathroom.

With thirty-five dollars from my first shift at the liquor store sitting in my pocket, I headed towards the thrift shop, intent on finding some sort of costume.

I found a pair of black heels and black knee high socks. I also found a black short skirt and a plain black long sleeve. I topped it all with a feathery black hat, a round brim with a pointy top. I'd be a witch.

Next I went to the dollar store and bought black eyeliner and red lipstick.

Then I made my way back home, really going out and buying myself a dollar ice cream cone to eat on the way home, despite the cold temperature.

I checked the time on my phone. I still had until eight to get ready. I'd probably get dressed after dinner.

After I tell my father my plans.

...
I showered, making sure to use a generous amount of conditioner so my hair would smell nicer than usual. I toweled off and braided my hair, just to keep it out of my face. I leaned over the counter and tried to put on eyeliner. I've heard that you're supposed to put it on your waterline, but I kept missing. Eventually—after two tries—I got the eyeliner to look witch-y, much thicker and darker than I intended. The lipstick was much easier.

I pulled on the black socks, contrasting harshly with my fair skin. I liked it, in a way. I pulled on my shirt and tucked it into the skirt. I felt like my whole ass was showing.

It's Halloween, I'm allowed to be someone different.

I unbraided my hair, letting the black mass flow around my shoulders. I looked dark and pale. I liked it.

I pulled on the heels and walked down the stairs, surprisingly stable. You were already pulled into the driveway. I took a deep breath.

"Dad, I'm going to a dance at the school. I don't know when I'll be back."

He lit a cigarette. "Don't come back at all."

I bit my lip.

"Okay." I walked out the door.    

I know this chapter is short, but it's in preparation for the next chapter. Hehehe....

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