Chapter Two: Criminals Like Pizza Too

6K 67 16
                                    

        Squirt, squash. Squirt, squash. Squirt, squash.

Sometimes I despised living in New York. Seriously despised.

Like, for example, right that minute. I had gotten up at seven o' clock, stuffed some oatmeal down my throat, and was off to Lane's Convenience Store. The second I stepped outside, the light morning mist turned into full-on pouring rain. It came down in sheets, blinding my vision.

So there I was, walking down Jupiter Road, without an umbrella or rain jacket. Soaking wet.

It didn't help that it was also thundering, and every few minutes, a bright bolt of lightening lit up the sky. Every time I stepped, my shoes squirted and a little pool of water flew out from the seams.

I tried to ignore it, but it was almost impossible. New York rained too much.

By the time I got to the store, I probably looked like some kind of sea monster. I pushed open the door with a huff, thankful to be out of the storm, but not looking forward to another day of grocery store boredom. Sigh.

"Hello, Temper! It's raining cats and dogs out there!" Mr. Lane laughed. Oh, sure, you old fart. How about you try going out there and getting drowned, then we'll see who'll be laughing then.

"Ha, definitely. So what can I work on now, Mr. L?" I asked politely, although I secretly wanted to run for the hills. Well, maybe not run, because it was raining and all... and N.Y.C.'s pretty flat, so I'd have to run into the countryside to find a hill, but... metaphorically speaking, I was prepared to leave.

"I suppose for now, you can go help Kennedy over there. She's cleaning aisle four," he told me. I slowly walked over to the aisle he was pointing to, and grabbed an extra mop that was resting against a stand of crackers. I moved the mop around as if I were mixing a huge pot of soup, lazily stirring it around in large swirls. But soup-- agh.

Once I was done cleaning a good section, I looked up for the first time, and my eyes met a pair of deep brown ones.

"Hey, Kennedy," I said.

Mr. Lane's granddaughter looked up from her work and smiled.

"Hey, Temper!"

Kennedy was a really energetic, friendly eleven year-old. She was my friend Harper's younger sister. Her dark hair framed her rosy cheeks, and her red lips were almost always pointing upright. She was like a little cherub.

"It's raining like mad out there, huh?" I pointed out for the sake of small talk. She nodded and continued scrubbing wildly at an invisible stain on the tiled floor, before launching off on some other topic of conversation.

"Temper?" she blurted suddenly.

"Uh-huh?" I answered absentmindedly.

"Are you a criminal?"

Those words made me want to hide. I didn't realize how serious my crime would be. This could follow me around for the rest of my life! People won't want to hire me, men won't want to marry me; I'll be a hermit! A lonely, anxious hermit!

"Um, no Kennedy, I'm not a criminal. I mean, I did take a pair of earrings, but.... I'm not a criminal," I explained, trying my best to sound convincing. If I did steal that jewelry, did that make me a criminal? I was pretty sure that it did, actually.

Kennedy nodded and went back to stacking boxes of cookies. We worked in silence for a while, until (thank the Heavens!) Harper showed up. Her face was flushed and she seemed out of breath, but she was smiling.

"Hey, Tem!" she exclaimed, running toward me and grabbing me in for a big hug. God, that girl was strong!

When she finally pulled away, I breathed a sigh of relief. That's right, I could actually breathe again!

"Hey, squirt," she nodded to her sister. Kennedy stuck her tongue out.

"So, what's up? Zoey had this awesome idea that we could all go down to Lombardi's when your shift is done," Harper announced.

Lombardi's Pizza was this amazing little restaurant practically the entire teenage population of New York hung out at. I nodded eagerly and whipped out my phone, telling my friends I could go.

"Did you know that Max is going out with McKenna? I mean, c'mon, they are so made for each other! Major sigh! Oh, and David broke up with Amanda yesterday. She was so heartbroken, the poor thing!" Harper filled me in on everybody's love life, although I couldn't care less. After a while, I zoned out and focused on what was needed to be done.

Finally, noon, I was done for the day. I said good-bye to Mr. Lane, linked arms with Harper, and we were on our way to meet our friends at Lombardi's. The rain had stopped, and there was a nice breeze.

"So, did Kennedy bother you? 'Cause trust me, she's a pest," she said.

"Uh, not really. She's pretty personable," I answered her.

"Ugh! I know, right? My mom and dad thought there was something wrong with her when she was a baby, like, she was always babbling away," Harper declared.

"Look at yourself," I retorted playfully. She swatted my arm.

Three minutes later, we were inside of Lombardi's, searching for our gang. We spotted them in the far corner, by the window. Lombardi's was mellow and laid-back, and was dimly lit and always full of people. They had a small stage where some amateur performers sung and read poems and stuff, and the place always smelled thoroughly of yummy Italian goodness.

I sat down next to my best friend Cleo Torren, and across from my other friends, Zoey Lavigne and Alec Reed. Harper plopped down next to me, and the chatting began. I was mostly spaced out for the entire conversation, only speaking when I was spoke to and to order my pizza. 

Kennedy's criminal question had kind of taken the pep out of my step.

When our food came, we all shut up and dug in, stuffing our mouths with the deliciousness.

I bit into a piece of pizza, and the sloppy cheese slid right off and hung from my mouth. Just as this happened, a shadow appeared over my head. I looked up, only to see Mr. George Arbing, the Abercrombie God.

Please, kill me now.

************

Poor Temper, lol. Please comment, vote and fan! Thank you.

-Jenna

Watch Your TemperWhere stories live. Discover now