Antagonist

34

Flashback.
Age 17.
Harry styles.

Walking in the aisle of the shop, I turn my head to my right and search for the cheese pack Gemma asked me to get for her.

Tomorrow is her college trip.

It took a lot in me to ask father. If she could go or not. And my good grades in exams were the reason my father's permission was granted.

Gemma should've came among me to buy stuffs. But she didn't. I take the glance on list and search for snacks Gemma told me to buy. I search particularly for the flavoured chips she asked me to bring.

You'll might think most people in dont really care much about their sibling. But I owe Gemma my kindness. Because I'm the only one who has put her in trouble always. And she's gonna get little bit of happiness by those 5 days of trip. So I owe this all to her.

I pick the pack of chips and put it in basket.

Walking ahead, my eyes lands on a girl. Dark chocolaty hair, her back is facing me, her hair is tied in a pony tail. She's wearing the staff uniform and keeping pack of cheese on places.

It's written on list Gemma made.

I walk ahead keeping my eyes on her, about two meter distant. I hear her humming in lower sound. The tone isn't familiar to me, but I believe song would be great. I keep my pace on, and stand next to her, but now keep my gaze on shelf, I dont look at her direction to see what she looks like. Even though I'm curious.

I take the pack of cheese and add it in basket, "Gonna make pasta?" I hear her low mumble and turn my head and finally see her face. She doesnt looks any English girl. If youd ask me she's definitely Chinese, Korean or Japanese. Her accent is a whole different accent, and her accent sounds cute—her age seems as same as mine—I'm gonna consider she's from China.

I tilt my head down and see that I actually do have have pasta kept in basket. I lightly nod not choose to speak. This is actually weird if you're shopping such stuff and a staff randomly asks if you're cooking something checking over your basket.

I knit my brows when she takes pack of pasta from the basket and examines the label on back. I didn't examine the label.

"You gonna get sick, if you'll eat this," she whispers, and hands the pasta back to me, I take it back but a bit of frown— and feel my cheeks reddening in embarrassment. I glance that this pasta is actually expired.

"Well why would you risk your job, like this?" I ask tilting my head.

"If you'll buy expired stuff, you won't come here back, it wont be a profit, right?" A lazy grin appears on my face, I shake my head with chuckle.

"You got dimples!" I lean my head back, grin disappearing—she was just about to poke my dimple.

"Aww, c'mon!" She grins, I shake my head and pace back towards the aisle where I took pasta from.

"Am I suppose to keep this back?— why would you keep expired stuffs?" I ask knowing she's walking next to me. God knows why.

"I was suppose to take care of that shelf, but got busy. And you took in due." I nod to myself on her response, then mumble. "Suppose to keep back?" She shakes her head, taking the pack of pasta from my hand.

I roll my eyes and turn back because now there's no point to go to pasta shelf again.

"A factory produces, 320 thousand tons of pasta per year," I knit my brows on her sudden information.

"Okay..." I shrug eventually, because I definitely dont know what to response on that.

"And?" I add.