ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ | RAFE CAMERON

01

"THAT WILL BE TWENTY SEVEN DOLLARS AND FIFTY SIX CENTS." Tori says, her palm open to receive the cash from the eleven year old boy standing a few feet ahead of her. He was buying a bright red Island Club hat from the pro shop, holding what looked like his allowance.

Noticing the boys frown when he studied his money, the brunette girl spoke up. "Is something wrong, bud?" Leaning over the counter to get a better look at the boy, Tori raises an eyebrow.

"I'm short of two dollar bills." The boy shrugs, picking up the hat to put back on the shelf. The store was empty, since it closed in two minutes and had rained primarily the whole day.

A hurricane was rumored to hit the island in a few days, and although the kooks had people preparing for them, most refused to play golf under such hideous circumstances. It was considered a waste of time to such busy people, they had better things to do.

"Don't worry about it. So what if your two bucks short, I know how much you want that hat, bring it over." She smiles, grabbing a matching blood red ball marker from the clear jar next to her to give the kid.

Tori knew about the boy, she didn't know his name, but she did notice him come into the store with his dad sometimes, always running over to that one red hat to make sure it wasn't sold out.

It usually was, but Tori always made sure to keep one in the back for him, just in case.

The smile that spread over the boys face made her day, as he leaped over to the mahogany wood and threw his money down, immediately ripping the tag off the hat and pulling it on.

"Have a good day." Tori continued to grin, popping open the cash register.

"Dad! Dad! Look at my new hat!" The boy shouted, running out the store.

Smirking like an idiot, Tori starts mentally checking off her list for the day. She had everything she had to do memorized since she first started working at the pro shop five years ago from her manager, who now was retired. She was always to lock the register and entry door, and then restock the fridge with perfectly rolled cold towels for sweaty golfers, as well as refill the jars with tees and ball markers.

It was an easy job, had been ever since she started when she was fifteen.

"Well, well, well if it isn't miss Tori Wilson."

She had forgot one thing on her list, lock both doors of the shop, or else she'd have to deal with more people.

"Topper-" She acknowledges the blonde. "-how is Sarah treating you? Has she been able to break up with you yet? It's pretty obvious she wants to." The girl's lips were in a thin line, showing no emotion as the boy crossed his arms in front of him, examining the store. 

Her and Topper did not have much in common due to their two year age difference, but he was always kind so she had nothing to complain about. He was one of the nicest kooks one would ever meet, sometimes a little too much. Whether she aligned with his actions or not was made obvious through her words, but Topper never fought back. 

"Sarah and I are doing great, thanks for asking." He rolls his eyes, picking up an oatmeal colored polo, with the country club's logo on it. "Is this new?" He asks, grabbing a medium from the back of the rack and going to the check out.

"Yep, but we're closed. You gotta wait until tomorrow, sorry Top." She smirks again, grabbing her purse and turning to walk out the door. "You suck, Wilson." He jokes, following her as she turns off the lights and walks out the door.

Sighing loudly, she continues to ignore him and walk to her golf cart. She preferred it because she could feel the wind blowing past her. It was never the same with a car, even with the windows down.