Going 78 Miles Per Hour | ✓

13 | Reverse, Reverse

MARTES
6:13 PM

Reid Harlow

"Why the fuck do we need so much shit?" I mumble to myself, dropping a couple boxes of cereal into the shopping cart. I check the shopping list Sebastian sent to me, and I'm barely a third done with the entire list.

I swear, if this was printed on paper, it would be at least two pages long—front and back.

Nico shrugs his shoulders, continuing to push the cart. He's barely scraping to the height of the bar, but he was persistent in taking the job. I didn't know why—I didn't bother to ask—but who am I to tell a kid no when all they want to do is push around a cart?

We continue to walk, skimming the aisles as I read the list the family complied of their needs. The night before, the entire family was summoned to the dinner table and was asked to name a couple of things they needed from the grocery store. Sebastian and Nini gathered together all of our answers and made a list.

A long ass list.

Why the hell does Ariah need gorilla glue?

I shake my head, returning back to the shelves as I see boxes of pastas. Nini wrote down to bring back three boxes of spaghetti pasta or, if the store is out, bring back bow ties.

I skim my fingers over the labels and before you know it, I find some spaghetti pasta and drop three boxes into the cart—which is filling up by the minute. I turn back to Nico, "come on, we're going to the produce section."

Nico cocks his head to the side, struggling to decipher what produces are, and I sigh. "Fruits. We're going to the fruit section."

Nico parts his lips in realization and I grab a hold of the end of the cart, dragging him towards the right of the store. I noticed that the grocery store is larger than the town I lived in before—which was probably half the size—and that it was more organized.

While the last town I lived in had fruits scattered across the shelves, not bothering to return them to their correct order, this one has apples stacked in pyramids. It stays up too.

I feel something poke my arm, and I look behind me to see Nico. He has since abandoned his station and comes forward, saying something with his lips but his words coming off almost mute. I bend down, getting closer.

"Can I get some raspberries?" Nico asks, in the softest goddamn voice, he could be a mouse. I pull myself back up, searching the stands for some raspberries when I spotted them.

Her.

Dahlia is over in the vegetable aisle, with an unfamiliar woman standing in front of her. She is smiling—grinning, actually—as she tries to conceal her laughter from escaping. The woman is bagging cilantro, shaking her head at Dahlia.

I actually felt my heart stop.

I watch for a few more moments as I see Dahlia saying something to the woman, pointing to the walls and widening her eyes for emphasis. The woman shakes her head, and Dahlia drops from holding onto the bar of the cart, pouting like a little kid.

I almost smile.

"Hey, bud," I look down to Nico, seeing him watching me with curiosity. He's furrowing his brows, tilting his head to the side with confusion plastered across his features. "We're going to the vegetable section."

He squints his eyes at me. "But I don't want vegetables."

"No," I shake my head, "I just need to talk to someone." He looks like he understood, and nods. I grab a hold of Nico's wrist and quickly spin the cart around, taking it by the bar. We speed-walk down the aisles, passing the fruits, and just as I made a turn—I almost bumped into the woman.