Ours To Be (All Ours, #1)

Chapter 7

Hours later.

I hate closing up. The late shifts are the worst.

I left Jenn's around three, after we'd ordered some taco salads for lunch and lounged around her couch watching Housewives of Beverly Hills.

Yes, we may be in our twenties, but we're a sucker for a bad reality show.

I rushed into the shower the second I got home and got ready for work. It's one of the only things I hate about summers. Having to work. I mean, I guess I don't have to work, no one is forcing me, but I'd feel guilty as fuck if I stayed in bed all summer, knowing I could at least be making money in all that time.

It's currently six-thirty and me and Kylie are closing up at eight tonight. We usually close around five or six, but weekends are extended since the mall is packed.

I'm working the register right now and I don't think I could be more annoyed if I tried. Packing clothes in paper bags is not exactly my favorite way to spend my Sunday evening. We're lucky it's not awfully busy, I don't think Kylie and I could handle the whole store by ourselves if it were. At least that's a bonus of the night shifts. 

Another teenager strikes towards me with a basket full of clothing, and the only thought that crosses my mind is when I can finally start my year-long internship for school so I can quit.

''Bell!''

I whip my head to the changing rooms where Kylie's high-pitched voice is coming from and nod in question.

''Wanna switch?''

Yes, please.

I give her a thumbs up- not wanting to shout for the whole store to hear- as I finish folding the girl's last item of clothing before putting it in the bag, I also put her receipt inside and hand it over to her. ''Enjoy the rest of your night.'' I smile politely and make my way over to Kylie, who's currently putting empty racks in the corner of the changing rooms.

''Okay, so these are going on there.'' She points to a pile of rainbowed shirts and an empty rack by the mirror. ''Just roll them to the back when you're done, it's donations.''

''Alright,'' I nod, she's about to walk off when I remember something. ''Ky!'' she whips her head around, ''I only got the little bags left behind the counter, you have to get some bigger ones out the storage.'' She nods and rejuvenates her way.

I turn to the pile of flamboyant colored shirts and scold myself for switching. I only wanted to trade to stop folding clothes, not to fold even more. At least nobody can bother me in here. Unless someone asks for assistance in the store, of course, which is improbable because we're closing up in one and a half hours, and it's nearly empty in here. 

Better get to work then... I start making various stacks, depending on size, so I can hang everything from XS to XXL up in one go, and not have to break my back by bending down to check the label before every single time. The store is somewhat peaceful, but I wouldn't expect more or less on a Sunday evening. There's a string of people lined up by the register, but not so much for me to have to open the second one up. There are also some people walking around the store, observing items with the person they're with, or unaccompanied with headphones in. Nothing for me in there, so I just focus on my task at hand and quietly hum along to the new Drake track blasting through the store's speakers. The music is not too loud, but enough to be noticeable to the customers.

If the music was a little rowdier I probably wouldn't have overheard the hushed sobs coming from one of the fitting rooms. 

I whisk my head across to make out which fitting room the sound is coming from. All the curtains are opened and the insides of them are unoccupied, except for the last one that's on my far right.