Oranges: A Short Story

Part II

A bottle of cough syrup

Well I guess all the foods are out, thought Alex, remembering that the Food Palace was closed. And why did she need a yoga ball?

He started towards the pharmacy, walking past the spot where he'd been drinking soda the day before. Inside, a lonely looking young man with a mustache sat on the other side of the check-out desk. Alex had seen him before, of course. His name was Drake or John, or something along those lines.

Walking up to the desk, Alex saw that his name tag read "Don." I was close.

Don was reading a magazine of some kind, obviously not from the area. Nobody made magazines in Apetvet. Knowing he had to interrupt him eventually, Alex cleared his throat. Don's head snapped up and his eyes widened, as if he'd just noticed Alex standing there.

"Hello," Alex said politely.

"Hello to you too," said Don back. Neither of them said anything else for a second. "What are you doing out on a day like this?"

"My gran sent me out to run errands. Do you have cough syrup?"

Instead of answering his question, Don peered at him. "Don't only British people call their grandmas 'gran?'"

Alex was getting impatient. "Obviously not. Now can I have some cough syrup? I'm in a bit of a rush. Do you think I want to be out in this weather any longer?"

Giving Alex a look as if it was he who was being annoying, Don reached under his desk and pulled out a bottle of thick red liquid. "Is this good?"

Grabbing it and shoving it in the deep pocket of his coat, Alex nodded. 

"That'll be $12.37," Don said, looking smug. 

Alex rolled his eyes and placed a crumpled twenty on the desk. If it hadn't been his money he would've told him to keep the change just to get out of there.

"Here's your change," said Don, handing him a receipt with a couple coins and bills. Stashing them away, Alex left without saying anything else.

"Have a nice day." The register's voice followed him as he walked out the door with a little ring.

Just as he prepared to cross the street, Alex felt someone crash into him. Stumbling to keep on his feet, he grabbed whoever it was and stopped them from falling.

Glancing down, he saw that it was Anastasia. He let go immediately.

"Hey," he said, trying to be cool. He rubbed the back of his neck and cursed himself for being so clumsy. Why couldn't he be like his dream self, who was so smooth all the time?

Anastasia was trying to regain her balance. Once she did, she looked up at Alex in the eye. 

"I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I am such a klutz."

Shaking his head, Alex told her it was his fault. "I should have been looking where I was going."

"Your name is Alex, right?"

Alex nodded. "Anastasia, is it?" He asked, trying to make it sound like it wasn't a name he repeated through his head over and over again. This wasn't the same as his dream; they weren't at all intimate, but they were in the same spot, right outside the pharmacy.

Nodding, Anastasia pulled her sweater around herself.

"Oh, sorry, are you cold?" Alex asked, wondering what to do. Should he offer her his coat?

"No, I'm fine," she told him, her teeth chattering.

He glanced around. What was open? "Would you like some hot chocolate?"