Five

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"Kaydee, I have no idea why you brought me here," Dumb-ass calls out down the aisle once again. 

I'm currently sitting on the floor and facing the bottom two shelves. There's nothing for me to say to my brother, because I've already answered the two questions he keeps repeating since we got here. I had to bring him because he had the car and wouldn't give up his driver position, and no, I'm not paying for his lunch after I find gifts for the people on my list.

I don't want to be out shopping today, either. I could have found some other time to get it done and spend today writing more and more of the songs bursting out of me. (Teegan's a great source of inspiration, I'll tell you that much.)

Would Mom want the raspberry-scented candle? Or the sea breeze one? Would she appreciate it more if I got her a candle holder, which is a cat curled around where the candle would be in? 

Giving up on the debate, I grab the cat and the raspberry candle. Mom's off my list. Now for Mick. 

"Finally, home at last," Dumb-ass huffs when I stand up. 

"Not so fast," I warn. "We'll have to go to another store."

Cue his groans. "You're taking foreeeeverrrr," he says. 

This must be God's way of testing me, because I'm three seconds away from failing it. I put my things down. "Aww, let me give you a consolation hug," I respond, opening my arms. 

Knowing he wouldn't refuse, I wait. Seconds later, and we're hugging as if we're having a great sibling moment in the dollar store. Until we pull away.

Dumb-ass pats on his jeans and jacket. "Hang on -- did I -- you -- where are my keys?" 

"What keys?"

"'What keys'," he repeats with disbelief, "the car keys!"

"Oh." Proudly, I hold them up for him to see. "You mean, these?"

His eyes narrow. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you with the hug."

"There's the method to my madness. You complain nonstop for twenty minutes instead of entertaining yourself? Get your keys taken away and your position demoted to passenger." 

I pull them back fast when he lunges for it. And again. I twirl around his out-reached hands, and he huffs in annoyance when I manage to make the keys disappear in thin air.

"Kaydee, give it back," he demands. "It's not funny."

"So? Neither's your attitude. You have yourself to thank for losing the privilege." I grab my things and power walk towards the check-out lines. "Come on, I have to leave for work in a few hours. I need to get this done as soon as possible."

He catches up with me. "Why? You have a few hours."

"And you thought I'm spending all those hours to shop? No, I have shit to do, like lyric-writing and having panic attacks."

The items find themselves going on a ride towards the nice lady in a vest. She smiles at me, does the usual "Did you find everything?" spiel. Dumb-ass doesn't say anything else until we're out of the store and getting into the car.

"I've never seen you have a panic attack, though," he points out. "Why are you making time for it now?"

Good question. "My job involves people yelling in my face over stupid shit, shit I have no control over, or both. Not only that, I can't fight back because it'll make the pissy customers suddenly get sensitive and feeling victimized. So yeah, panic attacks are needed before I can go to work."

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