Creeps, Anonymous

Chapter 5 - Tick Marks

Olivia made her way back up the employee stairs from meeting Sebastian, feeling like she was a drink someone had sloshed around on the inside, still spinning even though she was standing still. It was only now that she climbed the employee stairs, she realized how chilled her hands were.

She shoved them into the pockets of her apron and ducked through the double doors, back into the madness of their Thursday-night truck delivery.

What a weird week this had been.

Between living out of a motel room, and sharing it with her mom on the verge of a nervous, mid-divorce breakdown, she felt like the world around her was shifting–changing into some absurd, Kafkaesque version of what it had once been.

Olivia picked the soup cans for her first truck task and pulled out her box cutter, beginning to slice her way through the twenty layers of plastic wrap around the shipments.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kyle, her coworker, make his way towards her down the aisle. Her stomach dropped at the thought of more human contact.

"Hey, what are you doing Friday?" He asked.

Olivia flicked her eyes over him momentarily to remember which one of her coworkers he was. Kyle was a nineteen year old with a penchant for getting coked-out and robbing people's open lockers at work. A year ago, a customer caught him napping it out in the produce section, between the yams and the potatoes.

She guessed the part she enjoyed most about that memory was how quickly the same customer had immediately assumed the best of Kyle, and said something about college kids working too hard nowadays.

"What am I doing?" she asked, turning back to her work.

"Yeah, you free?" He said, sidling up against the shelves. "I'm doing a rager at my place. We're just gonna go until the city turns our lights and water off, you know? Totally sick shit."

Olivia felt strangely blessed by the coverage of her mask, so he couldn't see her pursing her lips together. Even being around his baby's first introduction to alcoholism felt cute. Plus, the idea of Kyle's single mom coming back home from her Girl's Trip in Atlantic City to discover the house trashed and the utilities cut–well, some things just lined up beautifully in a chaotic sort of way.

"That sounds great Kyle," Olivia said, pulling the canned soups around him as he stood around and refused to help. "But I think I've got something that night."

"You can come after. Come on, this'll be great," he said, suddenly uncomfortably close to her personal space, "You can bring your Russian friend, the tall blonde one."

Olivia sucked her teeth and the sound made him back up. She looked down at the garbage and recycling at her feet, dusting off her hands. "He's Ukrainian, actually. And I think it'll be a kind of all-night affair."

Kyle nodded, doing a nervous two-step in his conspicuously new Jordans, "Maybe you can just send him then?"

"I think he's busy, too, that night," Olivia was enjoying watching him squirm as he hot-footed the line between impropriety and getting his drugs. It wasn't like she minded sending business Dima's way, she just didn't want to be this idiot's sudden middle man.

"Sure, sure, I gotchu," he said, pausing as he turned away, "Hey–you not wearing makeup or something today? You look really tired."

She finally turned to him, putting her patient hands on her hips, "Yeah, they took my makeup away in the hospital, actually. Said I might kill myself with it. Haven't really worn it since, you know? In case I accidentally choke on it or something."