The Graduating Class of '09 (Class of '09 x Male Reader Insert)

Chapter 14 - 'Indifference'

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[1:30 PM]

"It sucks that Target doesn't have a food court like the ones in Nebraska. This place always smells so ass." I muttered, absentmindedly running my fingers over a rack of overpriced graphic tees. Everything here felt too clean, artificial.

Honestly, it was more of a showroom for urbanized moms who left their homes for Pumpkin Spice Lattes.

"Are you seriously going to steal something again, Nicole?" She flipped through numerous woven sweaters that were hanging on a bunch of clothes hangers. "A reminder that you were shot and almost died."

"That was long ago, they probably forgot about me."

"You were bleeding just outside a Build-A-Bear Workshop, they've literally mounted a poster for you on the security wall."

I shrugged, grabbing a pair of sunglasses off the shelf and sliding them on. "Still forever ago, Jeckers." I spun around, turning to Jecka. "So whaddya think?"

"Makes you look too rich to be emo— You're distracting me again! Do you really think Paul Blart and his merry men of rent-a-cops magically have Alzheimer's to forget about an emo bitch who was caught stealing a $12.99 CD?"

I let out a frustrated sigh as I placed the sunglasses back on the stand they were from, "It was you who wanted the CD, not me. I told you to run, but you pissed yourself!" A few heads turned in our direction.

"It's called learning how to be self-aware, Nicole! If you didn't know that bullets can kill people, now you know!"

I was about to lay into her, but I realized we were attracting quite the crowd.

Fuck. Remember to be incognito.

 "Fine, fine. Can we just move on with our shopping spree?"

"Whatever, I'm going to go to the makeup section. Try not to make a scene while I'm gone." Jecka huffed, flipping her golden messy hair over her shoulders before storming off.

I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face.  Just great. Off to a rocky start, Nicole.

With a shake of my head, I grabbed a random candle from a nearby display and popped the lid open, inhaling dramatically. 

Vanilla Sugar Cookie. Gross. 

Smelled like something a Midwestern grandma would burn year-round. I set it down with an unimpressed scoff.

Should I hit up the electronics aisle and jack another pair of Skullcandy earbuds?

Nah, screw that. Those things never lasted more than a month before one side cut out like a deadbeat dad.

I'm pretty sure if memory serves me right, My Chemical Romance CDs were tucked away somewhere in that same section.

With that, I spun on my heel, stuffing my hands into my hoodie pocket like I wasn't up to anything, casually strolling toward the electronics aisle. The neon sign overhead buzzed faintly, with a putrid mix of hot pink and green.

As I turned the corner, the absolute last person I wanted to see materialized like a bad omen.

"Of fucking course she's here."

"Excuse me?" Megan's shrill voice pitched whenever she was offended in a conversation. "Oh, it's the cokehead slut. Heard you were on the run from the Mall since October."