Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Chapter One of the Most Boring Summer Ever

"I can’t believe I hafta get a summer job!" I complained as me and my best friend, Kasey, walked toward the front doors.

"You mean have a summer job," she corrected, looking glum as ever.

I felt like slapping my forehead. "Yes, of course. I can’t believe I have a summer job!"

"At Walgreens, of all places."

"I didn’t think they’d actually hire us!"

"Or that the rest of our choices wouldn’t hire us."

Kasey was what you might call a negative person.

"You wanted to apply!" I pointed out, stopping just in front of the doors.

"Cause that dude was hot!"

"Well, congrats, hormonal teenager. He might not even have the same shifts as us."

Kasey gave me a blank stare. "It’s Walgreens, Halle. Everyone works the same days."

I rolled my eyes as I started through the automatic doors. My eyes wandered to the first register and, sure enough, there was the "hottie" Kasey had made us apply for. I didn’t think he was that cute, unless you liked the beach bum lookin’ guys. Sun bleached blonde hair, perfected tan, brown eyes; tall, lean muscled. He was perfect; which was bad, for me.

Kasey smiled flirtatiously at him, batting her long, dark lashes that framed her enviable blue eyes perfectly. She flipped her blonde hair with her manicured claws. Kasey and I were a mystery. While she certainly looked like a snobby, preppy cheerleader, only half of it was true. There’s a little snobbery in everyone; we can’t help it! If you consider preppy in the liking boys and being a bit girly at times department, than sue her. But she was a cheerleader, although she was the kind who lifted everyone’s spirits—how it ought to be.

I was a little different. I had short, curly, caramel colored hair and chestnut eyes. I could have fit in with the cheerleaders but it just wasn’t my thing. I didn’t actually have a thing, per say, unless you consider bitching in a considerable amount or working at the Walgreens a thing. I was five foot four, had a size eight shoe, and had leftover freckles along my nose and cheeks. Needless to say, I wore foundation a lot. It wasn’t that I considered myself ugly, I just wasn’t very…..typical. I was an odd ball.

Rolling my eyes, I strolled over to Kasey’s dear cashier, and asked casually, "Hey, Todd. I know you showed us the ropes yesterday, but I forgot where my station was….."

Todd, just barely taking his eyes off Kasey, replied, "You’re in the photo station, and Kasey’s in the beauty station."

Kasey smiled brilliantly at me. "I get to sell makeup, Halle! Isn’t that awesome?"

I frowned, not necessarily liking that she and I would be working so far away, but whatever, right? "Awesome," I agreed boredly, already heading toward the photo area. "See you at lunch, babe."

"Okay!" Kasey, who was as tired and negative as I was only a minute before, shouted excitedly.

I rolled my eyes at her. She sickened me. She made our mandatory "outfits" look like it was fresh out of a fashion magazine; though she pushed the boundaries on what was deemed appropriate work attire. While all I did was roll the short sleeves of my plain navy polo to look like a tank top and gotten desert camo capris, completed with Converse, Kasey had done everything different. She’d rolled her sleeves into a tank, like me, but cut her neckline to where the polo collar was no more and revealed quite a bit of her—admittedly awesome—cleavlege, and had on too short khaki shorts, completed with navy wedge sandals.