Well...Not Anymore.

Well...Not Anymore: Chapter 6

He nods, looking just a bit miffed that I'm not all happy that he did part of my job for me. He says, "Zara wanted me to fix the sink in the bathroom and it didn't take as long as I thought it would." 

"Our own Handy Manny, awesome," I say sarcastically, dropping my eyes away from his face. I hate how good he looks this morning, how his blonde hair seems to have grown just a bit since yesterday and how his blue eyes seem to brighter than normal. 

"Hey," he says, his voice tinged with irritation, "This is my job too now. I was just trying to help." 

"Well stop," I snap at him, pushing the cash drawer back into the register maybe just a tad bit more forcefully than necessary. "Your help isn't needed." 

"Then why did she hire me?" he asks and it occurs that this is the first time that he's ever been mad at me since the falling out. Good. Maybe this means he won't talk to me anymore.  

I roll my eyes and say, "She thinks it'll be 'healthy' for me, whatever the hell that means." 

Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that part, he's smart enough that he'll eventually realize what I'm hinting towards, but I honestly can't control my words around him sometimes.  

He takes a step towards me and says softly, "Naomi, I..." 

I cut him off by finally meeting his eyes and saying, "It's fine. Whatever." I really don't want to hear what he has to say because I know how good the boy is with his words. He used to be able to calm me down by just saying a few things softly to me. I'm not going to let myself forgive him just because he knows how to talk his way out of things. 

He runs his fingers through his hair, a move that used to give me the tingles, and then says, "No it's not okay, I'm sick of you always being mad at me and..." 

Once again I cut him off and ask him incredulously, "Well how do you expect me to be, Lucas? After what you did? I'm not going to bow down and kiss your feet like everyone else at that freaking school." 

"I'm not stupid, okay?" he says, "But I'm trying to be nice." 

"After two years of acting like I don't exist," I remind him angrily. He's going to remember what he did if it kills me. He's not going to act like he never did that. If he thinks that merely being nice is going to make me forget how he treated me, then he's more insane than I originally thought. 

He goes silent for a moment and I know that he didn't expect me to bring that up. I've been avoiding that for a while, but it had to be said here. Maybe I didn't want to seem pathetic for still holding a grudge over it, but I really don't even care anymore. His silence is broken, however, when he meets my eyes and says, "I know and I'm sorry." 

Knowing that my will power is going to crumble because of his admittedly adorable sorry face, I avert my eyes from his and then go to leave the front counter. I mutter a, "Whatever," under my breath as I pass him and then head on towards the pile of unsorted books in the back room. 

This is starting to get far too emotional for my liking. 

OoOoO 

By around four-thirty the store starts to look darker than normal, almost gloomy, and when I peer back over my shoulder from where I'm ringing up some old lady who bought ten cookbooks, I see why. The sky has transformed from the bright blue it was just minutes ago and now it's cluttered with huge grey clouds. Of course it would look like rain half-an-hour before I get off and have to walk home.  

Resisting the urge to curse underneath my breath because of the customer, I turn back around and see that the old lady customer still hasn't gotten all of her money out. At the moment she's sifting through the coin part of her wallet, counting out loud to herself the exact change. Honestly, I don't know why she can't just fork over a one-dollar bill and let me give her change like the rest of America. This is ridiculous. There are actually two more customers behind her who are slowly starting to grow agitated at how long she's taking.