Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

6. Hers

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"You're early for once," I say as I kiss Scarlett on the cheek hello.

She gives me a warning glare as she reverses from my driveway.

"Remember who's driving, you little B," she says threateningly, and I hold up my hands in mock surrender as we laugh.

Scarlett's auntie is the owner of the clothing boutique we work at, and probably the only employer in the universe who would agree to let Scarlett and I work the same hours. We get the job done, however we're known to muck around in the process, and also tend to distract one another.

The drive to work is mostly wracking my brain on where to take Harry for our... meet up? I don't exactly know what to refer to it as, but it's actually doing my head in. Where can you even take one of the most recognisable faces in pop culture? The beach? I don't think so. For some ice cream? No chance. He's really making this quite difficult for me.

We get to the store, Hers, with 15 minutes to spare, and I do a quick spot clean of the store to get everything ready, whilst Scarlett visits the café next door to get our Sunday morning ritual -Vietnamese iced coffees. We've both worked here since our final year of High School, and this little ritual has been a tradition since we first started. It's nice to hang on to those kind of things. Hers is aimed predominantly for girls our own age, so with a 40% store discount, you can pretty much guess my bank balance just by looking at my wardrobe. Not great.

I quickly run my fingers over each individual hanger on the racks to ensure they're faced in the right direction when Scarlett enters the store bearing our beverages. She plops them on the counter, and changes the 'closed' sign to 'open,' and takes her position by the register.

I hum contentedly to myself as I change one of the mannequins into some new stock that we've received. In my head however, I'm going through the potential ways my day could turn out today. I'd love to be able to guess, but I have a feeling that anything goes with Harry. I kind of like that. Initially I was skeptical about why he was being so nice to me, and that it was probably out of politeness, but I don't really know anymore. It doesn't seem to add up that he would continue to message me when he didn't have to. Maybe this could be something more? Woah, don't get too ahead of yourself I have to remind myself.

"You're in your own little world today aren't you Ave?" Scarlett pipes up as she puts down the gossip magazine she was flicking through. "Is it a boy?"

Shit. I really need to stop being so bloody obvious. Everyone seems to be picking up on my change in attitude today.

"No, there's no boy." I guess I'm technically telling the truth. I keep eerily quiet for a moment before I curiously speak up again. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. You seemed to not be paying much attention in the car earlier when I was talking about Jackson. Oh, and you kept smiling down at your phone like a massive goof."

I was?

"Oh - that moment," I lie. "Just my dad. He's back from Sydney today and he sent a message because he left before I got a chance to see him this morning." This lying thing is becoming almost second nature ever since yesterday, and I'm slightly surprised when Scarlett accepts this as the truth. "But where were you last night when I tried to call though?"

The question, thankfully was interrupted by a new customer, and I scurried over to see if she needed any assistance.

Customers filter in and out of the store and we manage to sell completely out of the new dress that I had placed on the mannequin this morning. I change it once more into something else when I hear a scream from Scarlett causing me to drop the display.