Rather than leave a huge author's note, there's a message on my profile for anyone who's read this :D. For the last time, cheers! =']
Pursing my lips, I scanned the supermarket, my brain whirring as I contemplated our best course of action. Cheesy Christmas Carols filled the shop and glittering tinsel suspended imposingly bright signs urging shoppers to buy one last item, spend one last penny. Swarms of stressed customers scurried by like parasites; invading every nook and cranny, their trolleys piled high with cards for that one neighbour they forgot, selection boxes for their distant niece, and just general last minute goods in preparation for the next morning... Christmas morning.
"Ok," I started boldly. Lee, Lewis and Jay all turned to face me, blinking expectantly. "Lee, you go get crackers and decorations and shit."
"Roger that," she replied, mock-saluting me. I rolled my eyes.
"Just get on with it." She flashed me a last arrogant grin, before dashing off to the party aisle. Knowing Lee, she'd probably pick up the naffest crackers of the lot; the ones with the most ridiculous plastic toys and crappiest cheesy jokes. I laughed as she sprinted off, black combat boots clunking against the tiles. Yeah, she definitely would.
"Jay, you come with me and we'll get all the food and shit, like turkeys and stuff." Jay nodded, grinning a little while Lewis rolled his eyes at my choice.
"Imagine you two going off together. Alone," he added suggestively. I ignored him and resumed ordering everyone about.
"Lewis you can..." I trailed off, uncertain. "You can stay here and not touch anything, in case you break something."
He scowled, I laughed, and Jay grinned and dragged me to the fridges. Lewis and I... we had a weird relationship. Although we'd (mostly) got over the immature rivalry and pettiness, we still masked any deeply buried affection with snarky comments and sarcastic putdowns. Lee took the role of jabbing us painful in the side with her razor-sharp fingernails whenever the banter got too serious, while my ever perfect boyfriend played up the whole 'calm peacekeeper' anti.
"Um, whipped honey, crystallized honey, or liquid honey?" Jay asked, three jars balanced in his hands. Aside from the different coloured labels, they all looked identical.
"You mean that there's actually different types of honey?" My voice sounded incredulous as I queried him. "I thought mum was having us on!"
Jay rolled his eyes, but didn't drop his grin. "Yeah... Anyway, which one should we get?"
"What am I, a fucking beekeeper? Just get the squeezy kind."
His green eyes lit up, resembling the twinkling Christmas lights strung across the shops. "The 'squeezy' kind? Is that the adjective your mum used?"
"Shut up!" I snapped, my face matching the row of furry red Santa hats. "When did you get so sarcastic? And mum's totally fykie anyways."
The plastic jars cascaded to the ground as Jay snorted with laughter, drawing a strange look from a nearby elderly woman clutching some shrivelled prunes. I wrinkled my nose in distaste. Deep contours rimmed her eyes, her skin resembling the withered fruits in her fingers. It was rather gross, actually.
"Dude, pick them up," I urged, yet bending down the help him all the same. Turns out he really didn't need my assistance, as he easily scooped all three jars up with one arm, but it eased my moral conscience knowing that I had actually attempted to help.
Once we'd managed to safely balance the honey on a random shelf, we had a brief debate over what defined 'squeezy'. In the end, I grabbed the cheapest jar and stomped off the vegetable aisle, Jay in tow.