Running Parallel

Part 10 - Connor

She holds out her fist and dumps another handful of coins into my hand. I poke through it. Dimes and nickels.

I count it twice to be sure. Hitting the exact amount, I scoop the whole thing into the drawer, inwardly cringing at the disorder. Whoever said "Out of sight, out of mind" clearly never met me. I fight the urge to organize it and instead turn to the customer.

"Receipt?" I ask, finger poised over the button.

"Well, yes," she says. My body flashes cold, then hot at her tone. I scratch at the back of my left ring finger with my thumbnail.

Reading people has never been a skill I've possessed, but I've heard that kind of tone directed at me so many times in my life, my body physically reacts to it before I can even process what it means. That whip-snap delivery, that heavy emphasis on the yes. She might as well have rolled her eyes and called me stupid.

I stab the button with my finger and rip the receipt from the printer. Thrusting it at her, I watch as she takes it, then I turn and walk away. Normally, they'd have us count our till before clocking out, but Steven often makes an exception for me. I try not to question it. If he wants to count my till himself, that's on him.

I make my way passed the customer service desk. Dyllan calls out, "Hey, are you off?"

I pause in front of the sliding glass doors and turn around to face her. Someone nearly bumps into me on their way out, so I step to the side, out of the way.

Absently, I nod at Dyllan.

She grins. "Want to keep me company on break?"

Mom's off today, which means she's probably at home . . .

"Sure," I reply with a shrug. At least this way, I have an excuse to avoid the house a little longer. And I do enjoy hanging out with Dyllan, partly because she doesn't treat me like I'm a dangerous criminal or look at me like I'm slow.

"Such enthusiasm," she says, biting back a grin.

"Sorry," I tell her, ducking my head. My thumbnail bites into the back of my ring finger, the sting a welcome distraction. "I do want to hang out with you. I didn't mean to sound like I don't—"

"I'm teasing, Connor," she says, cutting me off.

My face grows warm. I glance up to find her smiling softly at me. Sliding my hands into my pockets, I hunch my shoulders and stare at the floor.

"Right. 'Course." Stupid. Stop talking, this is embarrassing.

"C'mon, I gotta grab my lunch, then we can go sit at the loading ramp," she says, motioning for me to follow.

I stay three steps behind, watching her feet as she leads us to the staff area to grab her lunchbag. When we finally step through the back door onto the loading ramp, the sun hits my face, and a cool autumn breeze tugs at my hair and clothes. Dyllan takes a seat next to the door, sitting cross-legged in a pair of black skinny jeans. She scrunches her nose up.

"It's getting colder," she notes, rubbing her arms for warmth. She's wearing the store's t-shirt, leaving her bare arms exposed.

"Do you want to sit in my car?" I ask.

Her face lights up. She stands. "Yes! Let's go. I'll have to start bringing a jacket to work if it's gonna be like this. Geez, I can't believe summer's over."

Leading the way to my car parked around the side, I agree, "Probably best. Not long until Halloween."

"Ooh, what are you gonna dress up as?" she asks.