Hold My Paper [ON HOLD!!!]

Don't Cry Over Spilt Milk

Grayson had decided to walk home with his bike that afternoon. It hurt too much to sit down on the thing, nevermind riding it. It took him twice as long to get home then it normally would since walking was a lot slower than pedaling. His mother had also asked him to get some milk from the truck, the same truck he had been throwing papers at for the past month. He made it into the neighborhood and of course, the milk truck was parked in front of somebody's house so he could deliver it.

Grays set his bike down on the side of the road and marched up to the milk truck, the back of it had been left wide open. He felt his back pocket to pull out the wallet he carried with him, and to his shock, nothing was there. A wave of trepidation wash over him, they needed this milk. It was Grayson's younger brother's, Danny, birthday on Sunday. He had bugged his mother for a birthday cake and she finally caved in and agreed. He had already had a tough day and didn't want to let his little brother down.

His eyes wandered up to see if milkman was still talking to the woman, which he was. Grayson leaned into the truck and grabbed two glasses full of milk, trying to hurry himself up. By the time he peeked his head back out to the sunlight, the man was hovering over him. Grayson's heart sank and he started to run, but his limp tipped him and caused him to fall. Unfortunately, he had only made it a few steps over and also scraped his knee up.

"You're the little shit whose been throwing papers at me." Grayson's head snapped up, and he was met with big green eyes. Whoever this person was had such defined facial features and sandy blonde hair.

Once Grayson processes the words though, he only winced. His already pouty lips stuck out even more once he saw the milky mess in the middle of the road. When he fell the glass must have had made an impact on the gravel, making it shatter into pieces. "You think you can go around here stealing this milk without paying? You've got the wrong idea, boy." The harsh words seemed to be coated in ice, as Grayson sat helplessly at the other's feet.

"Please, sir, it's my brother's birthday." A lump rose in Grayson's throat, signaling sobs were about to start coming out. It even hurt to cry, but tears rolled down and stained his puffy cheeks that were now bright red. He didn't even bother to wipe them off, he would've crawled up into a ball if it weren't for the sharp shards of glass all around him.

Grayson heard the latter click his tongue before a defeated sigh was heard, "Just one, but only if you don't throw those damn papers at my truck. And it ain't sir, it's Dax." He spoke with quite a southern accent, Grayson guessed he must have been from Texas or Alabama. He really didn't seem like a Northerner, at least to Grayson.

"Yes, si- Dax, thank you." Grays scurried to his feet and started picking up the glass. He counted his lucky stars that he didn't get whooped into shape by him. Dax seemed huge compared to dainty little Grayson, "Um are you a senior at Nickley Highschool?" Grayson chirped with sudden curiosity. Dax was kind of cute...

"Naw, my Momma teaches us. She says a school education won't teach us nothing but hate." Grayson frowned at Dax's improper way of speaking, and about what he had said. Wasn't that illegal?

Suddenly a glass of milk is handed off to him, and his thoughts get fuzzy when Dax's hand brushes against his own. "Now scram, you little shit." Dax chuckles, and Grayson can tell now that it's in a teasing manner.

"Thank you," Grayson waves, the little bracelets on his arm jingling as he goes off back to his bike.