Gone (A Larry Stylinson Story)

Chapter 9

AN

I'm gonna pop some tags only got twenty dollars in my pocket. I-I-I'm huntin' lookin' for a dolla, this is fucking awesome.

Harry's POV♥

"Show me your list." The kid at the front of the grocery store demanded.

"I don't have a list." Louis said.

The kid shrugged. "You need a list. No one goes in without one."

I said, "Okay, do have a piece of paper and a pencil?"

"It just so happens I do, Harry." He fished a small spiral notebook from the pocket of an ill-fitting leather jacket and handed it to Louis.

He wrote and handed it to the kid.

"You can have all that fresh stuff, like produce, that you want. It's going to go bad soon. Ice cream is mostly gone, but there might be some popsicles." The kid glanced at Lottie. "You like the popsicles, Tom-tard?"

"Get on with it." I growled at him.

"If you want canned stuff, or like pasta or whatever, you have to get special permission from Liam or one of the sherrifs."

"What are you talking about?" Louis demanded.

"I'm talking about you can have lettuce and eggs and deli because that's going to expire soon, but we're saving up the stuff like canned soup or whatever that won't spoil."

Louis admitted, "Okay, that makes sense, I guess."

"Guys need some condoms while you're here?" The kid laughed at his own joke.

I rolled my eyes, "Shut up."

"Okay, sorry. Go on in but I'll check everything on the way out, if that's okay with you."

"Yeah, yeah."

The store was a mess. Before Liam had posted a guard, it had been looted of almost all the snack foods. There were broken jars of mayonnaise, displays turned over, shattered glass from smashed freezer doors.

There were flies everywhere. The place had begun to smell like garbage. Some of the overhead lights had burned out, leaving pockets of gloom.

I grabbed a cart and lifted Lottie into the seat.

"Maybe I should look for a turkey, because you know, Thanksgiving is coming up." Louis said, looking at the display of Thanksgiving-related food: pumpkin pie mix, mincemeat, cranberry sauce, stuffing.

"You know how to cook a turkey?" I asked.

"I can find instructions online." He sighed. "Or, not. Maybe they have a cookbook around."

"I guess no cranberry sauce."

"Nothing canned."

I walked ahead into the produce section, then stopped, realizing Louis was still staring at the seasonal display, eyes glazing over with tears.

"Hey, what's the matter?" I walked over and placed my hand on his back.

"Grocery shopping was just something the three of us always did, my mom and Lottie and me. It was the one time a week we could just talk. You know, we'd shop kind of slowly and discuss what to eat and talk about other stuff, too. I've never been here without my mom before."

"Me either."

"It feels weird. It looks the same, but it's not."

"Nothing's the same anymore. But people still need to eat."