Lighter

t e n

i'm still standing here forever
without sunshine in my m i n d . . .

⚡️⚡️⚡️

Two days later, after an intense kickboxing workout and a long day of homework, all I wanted to do was get home, shower, and go the fuck to sleep. It was after seven o'clock and I was planning on going home to do just that.

That is, until I got text from my usually independent best friend who was going through some serious PMS-ing.

Apparently when she got done work at six, Cheyenne went right to my house and hid in my room. Cramps, bloating, fatigue and all. She claimed to have been "dying", and desperately begged me to run to the store to get her a bottle of apple juice and a giant container of mini brownie bites. That combination works wonders for her when Aunt Flow comes to town – it's odd, but I never questioned it.

I got into my car with a heavy sigh, sitting silently for a few moments as I processed her request and answered her. My leggings, sports bra, sweaty face, and matted ponytail would have to do as my wardrobe for the grocery store. I had no other choice because Cheyenne would kill me if I came home empty handed. The only thing saving me was the discarded zip-up jacket in the backseat I could throw over myself for an extra layer.

Once I answered her, I started up the engine and weaved my way out of the nearly empty parking lot of the strip mall where my gym was. It didn't take me long to get to my destination, which had plenty of open spots to park in. I didn't want to dwell on it too long, I just wanted to get in and get out as fast as possible. 

The voices in the back of my head telling me to go home were persuading – people will be there what if you see someone you know what if you have to talk to them you look disgusting – but if I forced myself to believe I wasn't here for myself, that it was for my best friend, I could make it out of the grocery store alive.

Shrugging my sweatshirt on as I crossed the deserted lot, I shoved my keys and phone into one of the pockets and walked in through the automatic sliding doors. The juice aisle and the bakery weren't anywhere close to one another, so I darted to where the baked goods were to get the brownies first. I had tunnel vision storming around the store, wasting no time and snatching up a plastic container of Cheyenne's treats before heading to the middle of the store.

I trotted down the empty juice aisle, skidding to a halt when I started recognizing the various fruits as my eyes scanned the bottles for the apple flavor. But it couldn't be just any apple juice, it had to be the right brand. Thus, it took me a couple of minutes to find it because it seemed like they rearranged the shelves since the last time I bought apple juice, which was probably a month or two ago.

Someone's footsteps padded behind me in the aisle, but I didn't pay them any mind as I reached for the bottle. The last thing I expected was for them to say something to me, so when I heard their voice, my hand froze when it touched the cap at the familiarity of it.

"So are you buying, or..."

I spun around and was met with Ronnie's frosty green gaze and crooked, enticing smile.

"Hi," I breathed, laughing a little at his lame joke he was referring to from Friday night at Tommy's house. His smirk remained in place while I observed him, taking note of the various soup cans he was cradling in his arms. "What are you doing here?"