Chapter 1 #2
Absently, I watched him go back to the pump and start filling up his car. I never understood why people thought they had to explain their purchases to me. He wouldn’t be the only person to buy cigarettes today, and also not the only one telling me they were trying to quit.
A couple hours passed before Eric poked his head out of the office again, asking me if I wanted to go on a break.
I accepted his offer and grabbed myself a huge plastic cup, filling it to the brim with cherry slush and poking a straw through the lid before slipping out the back door.
My fingers flexed on the plastic, my palms pressing into the lines of orange and red ringing the cup.
Outside, it only took a minute before my favorite little face showed up.
I squatted down and held my hand out, the black cat—who was apparently named Bug—instantly pushing her head against my touch. My fingers curled, my nails scratching through her short dark fur.
“Hi, Bug,” I said softly. “How are you today?”
Her only response was to rub her face on my knuckles, a quiet purr starting to vibrate through her chest. I sipped on my frosty drink, savoring the artificial cherry flavor as it melted over my tongue and stained my lips red.
The cat flopped down on her side and stretched out her body, her paws kneading the air while I ran my hand down her back, stroking the soft midnight of her fur.
I took a small pouch of wet cat food out of my pocket and ripped open the plastic, then let Bug lick the fishy-smelling puree to her heart’s content.
She really was a cute cat. Big, curious eyes, a flicking tail, tiny paws pressing against the pavement.
Some days, I considered stealing her and taking her home with me.
But I knew she had an owner who lived somewhere around here who’d probably miss her.
My break eventually ended, and I trudged back inside to relieve Eric of cashier duty.
“Bug out there?” he asked, slapping another piece of tape onto the corner of a peeling poster on the window.
“Yep. She might leave when she hears you coming, though,” I joked. She did like Eric—she just liked me more.
He chuckled.
“Well, I know you asked for more hours—more than clocking in early here and there,” he started as he turned away from the window. I took a too-large gulp of thawing cherry slushy, already feeling the stomachache coming on. “I just wanted to let you know I’m working on it.”
I nodded, understanding.
“You got your class schedule yet?”
“Yes. Sorry, I forgot to send it to you earlier,” I said, retrieving my phone from my pocket to pull up my calendar. I texted a picture of my weekly schedule to Eric, hearing the ping as his phone received the message.
Knowing what the buzz was for, he grinned and tapped his temple with a finger. “There ya go. I’ll work on it.” Then he headed towards the office.
“Thank you, Eric,” I said to his back.
“Not a thing, butterfly,” he called over his shoulder.
The nickname was such a random thing, but there was backstory.
Back when Eric was training me on how to unlock the ice freezer outside and refill the windshield washing fluid stands, there was a butterfly that kept following us around the lot.
It had papery white wings that fluttered fast while it trailed me, and Eric joked that it was rooting for my training success.
It was actually a really nice memory, and whenever I saw white butterflies now, I felt a small connection to them—as if they really were supporting me, uplifting me and hoping for all my best outcomes. Eric had inadvertently created a lucky symbol for me, and I was grateful for it.
I was grateful for Eric in a lot of ways.
I’d been working at the gas station for almost three years, and he’d never once made me feel uncomfortable or awkward.
He was a very genuine guy, and always seemed to be looking out for me.
Free food, Christmas bonuses I knew he couldn’t afford, as much flexibility with my schedule as I needed, a candle stuck in a chocolate-frosted donut on my birthday.
Eric was the healthy male relationship I’d always needed in my life, even if he didn’t know it.
━━━━━
Ludmila pulled up in her scuffed-up silver SUV right as my shift ended, the passenger window rolled down and her smiling face in clear view. She swiped her glossy brown hair behind her shoulder while beckoning me over.
I skipped across the lot then climbed into her car, tossing my bag onto the floorboard and situating the melted remains of my cherry slush in the cupholder. Mila had some grungy music playing from her speakers, and she twisted the knob to lower the volume as I shut the car door.
“How was your shift, butterfly?” she teased, knowing Eric’s nickname for me.
“My shift was good. I’m gonna tell him you want to fuck him next time, though,” I warned.
Mila dropped her mouth open dramatically, pretending to be offended at my threat to tell my manager about the crush she had on him.
To me, Eric was a very average-looking guy, but Mila thought he was sexy.
I was fairly certain he was divorced, and at least twenty years older than us, but my best friend was nothing if not brave. I admired her for it.
Plus, Eric seemed to be one of her better infatuations in recent years, since he wasn’t a piece of shit like everyone else she tended to crush on.
“You know, I actually wish you would tell him,” she sighed, putting the car in gear and pulling out onto the road. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand all this tension.”
“All this tension? Mila, I’m not sure you’ve spoken a word to the man.”
“Shut up. That’s not true.” She was grinning, her brown eyes glittering with excitement. “I went in there looking for you once when you were on your break and I saw him at the register. I bought a pack of gummy bears, and—get this—he said my shirt was cool.”
“Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful love story.”
“Or a hot hookup,” she countered. “I’m not looking to get married here, I just need to tap that Gen X dick.”
I dropped my head into my hands, unable to keep myself from laughing.
“Anyway, I know you’re just dying for an update on that cardiothoracic gunner bitch that tried to make me look stupid the other day. Right?”
I laughed again. “Well, duh. Of course.”
Honestly, I never understood half the stuff Mila ranted about, but I could understand when someone had their nose in the professor’s ass and wanted to make everyone else look bad for not doing the same.
As if so-called ‘competitive’ med school specialties were the only ones worth pursuing.
I’d get just as heated as Mila would, because she was a gem and she didn’t deserve any bullshit.
“Amazing. I also thought we could watch Silence of the Lambs tonight, since it’s been a while for that one.”
“Perfect.” I nodded.
Mila took a deep breath, then launched into a recap of all the drama I’d missed.