Universe of Soulmates

"Perfect Like Heaven"

"Hello, welcome to Quentin Convenience Store. Is there anything I can help you with?" The phrase I've said already four dozen times in the last four hours of work is yet again repeated for another customer. Plastering a smile on my face, I notice the glimmer in the couple's eyes that tells me they're soulmates. 

"Hi. Where would sleep aids be?" After working here for two years, I know where everything is and what products QCS sells. 

"They'll be in B12, all on the right side." I reply, before walking them to the aisle myself. It's just Maeve and I working the floor, and she's only been working here for a few months. If it's ever the two of us working, she knows I'm the one who leaves the registers first. She's much better at the register anyways, with her ability to do math and type in numbers at lightning speed. Plenty of things in this store have issues with their barcodes, so it's not uncommon to have to type up UPC codes. "Here, I'll show you." Leading the young couple to the correct aisle, I ask them why they need it. 

"Oh, Wynn has been having some issues sleeping over the last couple weeks." Judging by the fact that it's a new thing, I suggest a simple melatonin for her troubles and, after they pick up a couple other less necessary things, they're out of the store. It's never all that busy here, but it's a steady job that I enjoy. It's surprising to say I enjoy it, but it's familiar and has been there through my ups and downs. I start college in the fall—just two months away now—and I don't think there's much of a chance now that I'm almost nineteen. After nineteen, almost no one finds their soulmates. 

"So, having a fun time?" Maeve asks, leaning on the counter. 

"Doing the best I can." I joke, although sometimes, on the more quiet days it becomes the truth. Those days are the ones where the organizing and cleaning get done. "Kidding. Today has been pretty busy, so I can't complain." 

"True. It's my lunch, so I'll see you in thirty." Maeve leaves me in control of the entire store, although the small pharmacy has a couple of its own staff and my manager is somewhere in the store (probably in his office watching stupid videos of cats). During our lunch times, oddly enough, is when we get almost no customers. Not a single one, usually, so it surprises me when a girl—or maybe it's a guy with long-ish hair—walks in a few minutes later. Wearing a dark colored sweatshirt, probably blue or black but I'm not great with colors, and equally dark colored skinny jeans, it's almost impossible to tell what gender they could be. 

"Welcome to Quentin Convenience Store. Is there anything I can help you with?" Repeating the dull line once again, she (or he) turns towards me and shakes her head. Without saying a word, she heads towards the section containing the hair dyes, shampoos, and other hair products. What she's coming in for is beyond me until she comes up to the counter. 

While she's roaming the shelves, I occupy myself by starting to take stock of the candy that sits in front of the two registers, noting what needs to be pulled from the back room after I'm back from lunch. 

"Where are the nasal mists? My allergies are ravaging because of the pollen." My little sister has terrible pollen allergies, too, so I understand what she's going through. 

"The good allergy meds I've found for pollen are Flonase with Zyrtec." She looks relieved that I know what's good, but after working in a drug store for two years, you learn what's good and what's not. Despite whether or not you struggle with those things yourself. 

"You're a blessing." The voice coming from the person in front of me is a little deeper, but high enough that's it's not a male voice—at least not one that is around my own age of eighteen. "So, how much do I owe you?" She asks as I ring up the two items plus a Twix bar. Right side, which is the far superior one.