Septiplier High School

Please don't forget me

Marks pov

The music pounds the floor and the walls and my head. Lights flashing here and there, bodies pressed against each other in a grutesque meat sandwich, unopened bottles the only drink you can trust.

Why did I come here? The outcome was so obvious a blind person could've see it coming.

"Mark please come dance with me" purred Daisy, her eyelashes fluttering so hard I'm surprised they didn't come off.

Do it. If you're so bored, do it.

I shake my head, pretending to look downcast.

"Sorry but I don't feel so good. I don't want to be sick on your new dress."

Suuuuure.

"You like my new dress?" She breathed as she ran her hands along her hips and down the beggining of her thighs.

Now I feel sick. That's no lie.

"It looks very expensive. I don't want to ruin it."

She giggles and slides her thumbs under the straps on her shoulders, the movement pushing her chest up against the elasticated material.

I wonder if Jack is okay.

Why do I keep thinking about this boy? I met his once. I gave him directions and I left. Simple as.

I look down at the flimy red cup in my hands filled with liquid I didn't want to drink and hope she'll get bored of my refusal to play along.

"Well if you want to dance let me know"

I look up as she sashays away, her bag knocking against her hip as she dances her way through the clump of humans.

I wonder if he thinks about me.

It doesn't matter if he does or if he doesn't. You gave him directions on Monday. It's Saturday. Get over it.

I find the nearest flat surface and put my cup on it.

I'm going home.

Jacks pov

Living on your own has its benefits. No need to worry that the other people may not wash their dishes, no need to worry about losing your deposit because they had an accident. But it did mean two jobs and school.

My body aches everywhere. Stupid people and their stupid indecision over which shoes they want. If you like them buy them. Why do you need to sit there for ten damn minutes?

I'm three seconds from buying the shoes for her myself. My shift ended five minutes ago. I want to leave.

"Do you think they'll go with a cocktail dress?" She asks, her ankle twisting around and around as if she might've missed the tiniest detail that would change everything.

"Yeah"

A little more enthusiastic. Your rent relies on this stupid lady and her indecision.

She twist her ankle again and sighs.

"I wasnt supposed to be buying shoes today. But they would go so well with my dress for my sister's wedding."

"If you would like them I can take them to the counter for you."

"Go on then. Why not?" She laughs as though she hasn't just wasted 15 minutes and removes the shoe.

Finally.

I scan the shoe and the horrifically high price flashes on the monitor. If only I could afford to waste this much money.

She shuffles on her feet and hands over her credit card.

Good luck paying this one.

Transaction complete. Thank Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

She picks up her bag and her overpriced shoes and walks out of the shop, a lot poorer than she was when she entered.

I switch into autopilot and closed up shop barely even registering the cold light switch or the him of the generator.

I look at the sign above the door.

I have to come back soon. I have no choice.

I lock the door and slide the key into the slot.

I'm going home.