Running Parallel

Part 5 - Connor

I swear, if they play this song one more time, I'm gonna lose it.

I hate the day shift. The crowds, the noise, the lights. It's awful.

I'm standing in the cereal aisle, unloading a pallet, avoiding eye contact, hoping to god people leave me alone. At least six people have come up to ask me a question, and I've been cussed out by at least one old guy who was upset we don't stock the flavour of Mini-Wheats he likes. Most people don't have the patience to wait for my stuttered answer anyway.

Night shift is where I thrive. No music, no bright lights, no customers to deal with. I can work in peace.

Instead, the day shift is my nightmare. Dodging people, dodging carts, getting interrupted in the middle of a task. And then when they want to chat?

Put me back on nights.

"Young man." Not again.

I peek out of the corner of my eye at the older woman standing next to me. Much too closely, might I add. The top of her head doesn't even clear my shoulder. Grey wisps of hair curl out from the bottom of her bun, watery blue eyes peering up at me through too-large glasses.

"Do you think you can get that there box down for me?" she asks, pointing one knobby finger up at a group of Rice Krispies boxes perched on the top shelf.

Silently, I straighten and reach up, grabbing the first box from the front and passing it down. Her face lights up with a smile, clutching the box to her chest.

"Oh, thank you dear," she says, touching my arm. Then she's gone, placing the box of Rice Krispies in her cart and pushing the trolley out of the aisle. I frown as I watch her.

She was the nicest person I've met all day.

"Someone looks extra grouchy today," Dyllan tells me later, ringing through my lunch at the customer service desk. I'd grabbed a sub from the ready-made food section and a bottle of Coke from the cooler. Normally, I would have brought something from home, but I hadn't had time.

Holding out my debit card to pay, I awkwardly smile at her. "Not grouchy."

She laughs, passing me the card reader. It beeps positively. "Yeah, right. You're just a bundle of joy when you're made to work the day shift. How many grannies have you scared so far?"

"None," I tell her. "And I wasn't made to work day shift. Allen asked me and I figured I could use the extra money. Can I have my food?"

I inwardly cringe, realizing too late how that sounded. It feels wrong to take the food while she's still holding my receipt.

"Um . . ."

Dyllan grins. "Okay, hangry-pants, I got ya." She hands the receipt over, black nails sparkling. "Listen, my break's in ten minutes. Want to hang out at the back?"

My breaks are my time to lose myself in my thoughts and unwind some of the tension coiling my body tighter, two things I can't do with someone else around. But normal people sit and eat together, and she might get offended if I tell her I don't like company.

I shrug and try to remember what facial expression I should be making.

"Okay," I reply, my mouth straining to create a semblance of a smile. Or is that wrong? I don't want her to think I'm flirting. Caleb says flirting is all in the smile. And the eyes, but how does a person flirt with their eyes?

"Great!" she chirps, grinning. "I'll see ya out there in ten minutes, okay?"

"Ten minutes," I repeat to myself, nodding. I grab my sandwich and drink, and head for the back of the store. As I do, I check my phone for the time.