Potentially You and Me (Two Truths and a Lie)

Chapter One

Chapter One

Peas, Peas, Peas.
Where are the damn peas?

My eyes scan through all the perfectly lined up cans on the shelf. There's canned corn, canned carrots, canned yams, and yet no canned peas.

I take a step back to look at the cans toward the bottom of the shelf and bend down to get a closer look. However, all I end up getting is a nice smack against the head. My hand flies up to the area of impact while my eyes lock on to the box of chocolate cake mix now resting beside me.

My lips part to emit the curse my mind immediately conjures up, but my thoughts gets cut off when another box comes sailing over the shelf and hits me in the shoulder. I stare down at the box of vanilla cake mix sitting beside my leg before I find myself slowly standing back up.

I glance around trying to assess the situation—trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I'm in such a situation, but there's no one else in the aisle. I bend back down and pick up the vanilla cake mix just as another box flies over. Luckily, it doesn't hit me this time, but instead lands with a resonating smack against the grocery stores white linoleum floor. Red velvet.

"Dude! Wrong aisle!" someone yells.

My head whips in the direction of the sound, and I see a guy standing at the end of the aisle.
He jogs his way towards me, and I note that he's wearing the maroon polo that all the employees wear and light grey sweatpants. His dirty blonde hair is spiked up in the front. He seems to be a bit out of place with his physically fit physique, but as he gets closer I find the air getting caught in the back of my throat when I'm greeted by his bright green eyes.

"Sorry about that," he says, stopping in front of me. "I was restocking the cake mix when my"—he pauses and leans in closer to the shelf—"idiot friend tossed them over the wrong shelf."

A low grumble emits from the shelf which means his friend heard him.

"It's fine," I assure as green eyes, as I have now dubbed him, bends down and picks up the chocolate cake mix.

My feet seem rooted to my spot as green eyes goes around me and grabs the red velvet box before returning to his spot in front of me. We stand there staring at each other for a few seconds before he extends his hand out. The confusion is written in the crease between my eyebrows from the expectant look in his eyes, but then my brain reminds me that I'm still holding the vanilla box. I tuck a fly away strand of hair behind my ear, but it does nothing to hinder the warmth that falls over my skin.

"Oh, um, I think I'm going to keep this one." I fidget with the box for an extra second, noting the red spoon on the box signifies it's not just any ordinary cake mix, but rather Betty Crocker cake mix. Part of me wants to ask if it's on sale, but when I glance back up his lips are quirked up to one side and my rationality flies over the opposite shelf.

"So you're a vanilla kind of girl." Those green eyes are suddenly all to knowing as they slowly circle around me like I'm a mannequin instead of a person. At least mannequins tend to have better style than I do at this very moment. 

I'm wearing athletic shorts, a baggy sweatshirt, and my hairs up in a high ponytail. My brain automatically spits out another internal curse, but I quickly shoo it away because I shouldn't care. And for a second I don't care, but then our eyes lock again, and, instead of a box of cake mix, I'm smacked in the face with his grin.

"Well, I'm more of a red velvet kind of guy." He holds up the box and gives it a tap with his knuckles. "I'm Trent." The declaration makes me glance at his shirt, finally noticing the name tag resting there. Trent is quick to follow my gaze and, as if noticing it himself, he points to it with a laugh. "And I guess its right there."