Crystal Clear

Chapter Four

"Nice meeting you," he says.

 My father introduces me to the rest of the crew that works in the back- Josh, Ray and Phillipe. He says that Chanelle usually handles the boys, she's basically the manager. Second in command to him. My father goes to his office to handle paper work and tells my brother and I to chill, (a word parents should never, ever use), in the bakery. Once my father's out of sight, Moe comes back over and takes a seat next to me.  

"So you're all the way from Jersey," I nod.
"I am," I tell him.

"Cool. So do you love it here so far? Pretty different, huh?" I shrug. He smiles.
"It gets better. Parties at the lake, camping. You'll have fun." I snort. Moe raises an eyebrow.
"I have no friends here, so no parties. No way would I ever step foot in a forest, that's disgusting,"
"Uh yeah, hello, my name is Moe and I'll be your friend," he says with a wink. I roll my eyes. Player.

"Uh, yeah, hello, my name is Gabby and I'm not desperate for friends, especially ones like you," I retort. I always play hard to get.

"Feisty," Moe mutters. My father and Chanelle come back over to the table.

"You know, Mr. Graise, if you'd like I can take her off your hands for a while. Take her round town, show her some places. Like a tour guide," my father looks at me, then at Moe and smiles.
"That'd be great. You'd like that, right, Gab? A boy that's older than you is considered 'cool' right? Have her back by midnight, Moe," I groan and Moe grabs my wrist, dragging me out the door with him. Guess he's off the clock now. Why does my father have to even speak like that? He sounds so dumb.

"WHAT is your problem?!" he asks, raising his voice. I look at him and laugh. Short tempered. Ha, I hate guys like him. He has no right to go off on me like this when he was the one offered to take me out in the first place. Boys are such hypocrites. I don't answer him and instead an awkward silence ensues. I let it. We get inside his pick up truck, rolling down the windows and letting the sunlight in.

"That's the library," he mutters as we peel out of the spot and start heading down Main Street. I nod. I guess he's decided to point out everything on the street that has a sign, like the bank or post office or 'clothing' store. They don't have boutiques in these parts, I guess.

"The grocery store," he says as it flashes NANCY'S MARKET, wow, so original. I already had the pleasure of meeting her, little does he know.
"I can read, you know," I remind him I'm still a literate, functioning human being, since he may have forgotten. I'm not like the dumb hick girls that he's probably used to.

Walking down the street are a bunch of blondes with big boobs, flirtatiously laughing at one another, acting like my friends back at home do when we see a hot guy. We were at a stop sign.

"And that... that's Shannon," he says. The girl—Shannon—runs over to the pick up and presses her boobs against his door as she leans in the window, looking at him. She grabs his wrist that's on the steering wheel. Territorial. He quickly uncoils from her grip.

"Hi, Moe," she whines as she bats her eyes at him. He shakes his head at her.
"Shannon, let go, I gotta go," he puts his right hand over my shoulder and she backs away from the truck, looking angry. What was the point of that? He drives off. "You didn't introduce me to your friend!" she shouts at him. You really do see these types of girls everywhere. I'm one of them. The girl that thinks she's hot stuff, wears skirts that are too short and tops that are too low and gets the overt amount of attention that she needs to keep acting that way.

After a few blocks, he says "that's my house," parking in the car on the dirt patch. Moe got out of the car first, then came over to my side where he opened the door and took my hand, helping me out.

"Why am I here?" He didn't answer. Just took my wrist and led me up his lawn. There were motocross bikes on the front lawn, skateboards on the driveway, soccer balls, footballs and a basketball on the porch. Moe opened the screen door. He led me past a play room to a staircase. We went upstairs down the hall to his room.

Moe had tons of things everywhere—clothes on the floor, video games everywhere, homework going across his bed, which was just a mattress on the floor. He had a snowboard, a TV hanging up on his wall, and a broken one on his dresser, he had two boxes of trophies on the floor. He had hockey sticks in the corner of his room, and don't even get me started about his closet...

"Whoa," was all I could manage to say.

"Shut up, I know it's a mess," he tells me, I chuckle.

"I'd clean it if—," I were you, I would've said, but he cut me off. "You'd clean this for me?" he interrupts. "No, I'd help though," he smiles hopefully.
"Come on please, help a guy out," I sigh.

Giving into his pleading smile, I decided I'd owe him since he took me in for the day. I began by taking two garbage bags, one for all of his trash and another for all of his dirty clothes. He picks up his trash and I pick up his dirty clothes. Honestly I don't know which was worse. Some of his clothes have blood on him.

"Do you know how to do laundry?" I ask him. He snorts.
"Guess that's a no...?" He nods. Brilliant.

"Well, do you have a washing machine?" he shakes his head no.

"Alright...so you're saying you wash clothes outside?"
"No. It broke awhile ago, we just don't have the money to fix it," I nod. "So how do you wash your clothes?" He shrugs, "That's a woman's job," I laugh. He must be joking.

"I guess we can do it at my house...tomorrow night—okay? You know where I live right?"

"I should go now," I say it awkwardly. It was eleven thirty at night. He nods.

"Right, don't wanna break the curfew or you wont be able to come out with me again," I smile.

"When will I be going out with you again?" I ask him as he led me out of his house.

"Whenever you want," he says. I smile, again... I didn't want to admit this but... maybe I might just have fun here.

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Thank you for reading, I appreciate you!! If you are able to comment or vote, I invite you to! Enjoy!!

xoxo

Eleni