Thrift Store

7| shocking encounters & terrible memories

The air feels cool against my skin as I bike up the cracked sidewalk with a determined gaze. My jacket is buttoned up to my chin and my hair is pulled back into a french braid, which if you know me, definitely signifies something important.

Today is my first day working at the thrift store, and to say I'm nervous would be an understatement. After my not-so-great first impression with the manager, I figure nothing can go worse, right? But then again, I don't want to jinx anything. One time, I managed to set fire to my step brothers hair when I was attempting to light his birthday cake candles. I'm not exactly the most polite person in the first place, so when you add my clumsiness on top of that, you're bound to end up with a weird mixture of immature and uncivilized.

"Hey, hey, watch out!"

In a blur of screeching wheels and high-pitched screams (complimentary of me), I am thrown off my bike by a sudden force that is slammed into my side.

"Ow." I whisper with my eyes shut tight, desperately trying to save myself the humiliation of crying in front of the stranger who body slammed me.

"Oh, shoot, are you alright?" The voice above me speaks in a worried tone, making me open my eyes and blink away any sign of unwanted tears.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I wave him away, not focusing on the strangers face as I scramble to my knees quite unattractively. "Believe it or not that's actually not the worst bike accident I've had."

"Well it's not everyday I let a pretty girl crash into me. You should feel lucky."

I glance up to be met by coffee colored eyes and an attractive smirk.

Damn-it.

"Well it's not everyday that I let a self-absorbed douche bag crash into me." I retaliate, glaring up at the shockingly familiar pair of eyes that haunt my nightmares. I never thought I would have to see his face again.

Meet Jordan Creek—the cocky, arrogant, unfortunately attractive guy that tormented me back in high school.

"I'm Jordan. Nice to meet you." He sticks his hand out, peering down at me through thick, dark brown eyelashes.

"Cut the crap, Jordan," I glare even harder at him. "What are you doing here?"

He sighs. "I see you still have a passion for hating my guts."

"I still have a passion for hating guys that treat girls like dirt," I mumble under my breath, picking up my bike and attempting to push past the guy that I harbor so much distaste for.

"Wait, Soph—" he grabs my wrist causing me to whirl around, a most-likely crazed look on my face.

"Don't touch me!"

"Okay, okay!" He puts his hands up, the hint of a smile playing behind those gorgeous eyes of his.

What are you doing, Sophia? Quit thinking idiotic things and just walk away from the douche bag. You know he only causes trouble.

"I just wanted to make amends," he says quite sincerely, although I know that voice, and I know all the lies it can tell.

"Awe. Why didn't you just say so?" I give him an overly fake smile. "I totally forgive you for bullying me into dropping out of high school and becoming suicidal."

He rolls his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic, Soph. You know I was just teasing."

"Hah," I scoff, "and I was just being dramatic when I would cry myself to sleep every night because I hated going to school."

He remains silent with his eyes glued to the ground.

"Look. Why don't you just go back to being an egotistical asshole with no brain cells, and I'll just go back to living my own life—away from you."

And with that, I left him in the middle of the road.

If only I'd known that wasn't the last I would see of Jordan Creek.

***

"And over here is where we keep all the cleaning supplies," the lavender haired girl who's name I found out was Renee says in a chirpy voice. "We usually have cleaning days on Mondays, so it looks like you'll be helping me clean the front windows today."

"Sounds great," I say, trying to sound enthusiastic about having to clean the front windows. I saw those windows when I came in this morning, and let's just say that the amount of dirt on those windows is enough to to last a life-time. I'm almost positive that they are not cleaned every Monday.

"So, who else works here?" I ask as Renee hands me three roles of paper towels and a bottle of windex. This is barely even enough supplies to clean those windows.

"Oh just Kathy, Carlos, and me," she chirps. "Oh, and you now!"

I laugh at her enthusiasm. "Who's Carlos?"

My question is answered as a tall male figure saunters into the room, the atmosphere immediately changing as I catch sight of his attractive looks and intimidating gaze.

"Did someone say my name?" He pulls out his earbuds with a cute smile, his eyes falling upon my frozen figure only moments later. "Who's this?"

"Uh," I brush invisible dust off my jeans as I flash a smile, "I'm Sophia. Nice to meet you."

"A pretty name for a pretty girl," he smiles, shaking my hand gently. "I'm Carlos."

I desperately try and fight the blush that appears on my cheeks at his compliment, my eyes finding the ground as he keeps staring at me with those captivating emerald eyes of his. Not only is he one of the cutest guys I've ever laid eyes on, but he wears a beanie on his head which instantly makes any guy 10x hotter.

"Carlos is an art student," Renee explains.

"Really?" I smile widely. "Me too!"

"No way," he returns my smile. "Are you in Mr Peterson's class? You look familiar."

"Yeah, I am," I laugh, instantly feeling more comfortable as the topic changes to art.

"Wow. Small world," Carlos smiles sweetly, although I don't miss the way his eyes quickly run up and down my figure.

I beam at him.

"So, who's ready to clean some windows?"

My smile drops.

***

Guess who's back? (;