Summer Of Us

chapter two|once here, next gone

While I make the smoothie, my eyes find themselves flitting back to the boy who continues staring down at the floor, wisps of brown hair peeking from beneath his hat. He was attractive, I'll give him that. But not someone I'd seen around town, not even remotely dressing like the people here.

I knew everyone by names here, from Mrs. Peterson—the fifty-year-old lady by the street who gave out the best chocolate cookies—to Zephyr Wilson— the Wilsons' new born baby. It was a common thing in our town to know everyone and what they looked like, but I could count on my fingers how many people looked like the man dressed in front of me.

Oliver clears his throat urgently and motions to the smoothie. I look down confusedly before gasping in shock. The smoothie was overflowing out of the cup and dripping onto the tiled floor—the one I had just mopped not twenty minutes ago.

"Oops," Oliver smirks, pushing off the counter and handing me the mop. "Better luck next time," he whispers in my ear before grabbing the cup and cleaning it up, handing it over to man. I don't look up, my cheeks still reddened with embarrassment.

I wasn't even a clumsy person, yet when it mattered for me to make a good impression, I always messed up. Finally, I risk a glance up to see the boy's eyes linger on me for a quick second before topping off a dollar bill into the tip jar and swiftly turning out the shop.

My chest falls and I lean over the counter. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," I smack my head.

"Congratulations!" Oliver's voice drips with sarcasm. "You just won...the fourth customer that's run away. You're really on strike here, Cove."

"Save me the speech, Hayes." Frustration kicks in me and I nearly slam the mop on the ground. After another busted date last night with Easton, my mood was sour than ever and I pitied anyone who came in my way. It wasn't that Easton canceled—he sure didn't with the fancy as hell restaurant he booked—but it didn't even feel like he was there.

The entire night, his ears were either on the phone on a business call, or his eyes were avoiding mine. It was strange and definitely out of the ordinary, but I figured maybe something happened with his parents. Not wanting to pry much, I had left it at that so there wasn't too big a scene in the restaurant.

Was it totally wrong for me to have a small, tiny part wishing he did fight with his parents? It felt wrong, but I wanted him to see what his parents were truly like. Wrong, but semi-right intentions.

"Floor isn't gonna mop itself," Oliver chimes in from the back. I roll my eyes once again and aggressively move the mop in quick strokes along the tiled floor. Small ropes of soapy water swish around the floor and Oliver quickly rushes over.

"Maybe I should take that," he mumbles, eyes widened and suddenly he looked slightly afraid of me. I smirked internally to myself. May as well use this to my advantage.

"I'll clean the smoothie area too."

"Leave it, I'll deal with it," Oliver eyes me warily. "Just go home and, and cool off," he waves his hand dismissively. I nod my head and throw off the ugly visor before turning around and walking out triumphantly.

My victory is short lived when I'm hit with the flashing hot heat did little to lighten my mood and once again I was returned to that dampening, anxious feeling. It was not like I even had anything to feel anxious about. School was over, exams were done, work was okay. Nothing special, and yet that pit feeling never left.