June Schlieb is the adopted sister of Kevin Schlieb. It's a known fact, but that doesn't mean the wounds of her complicated adoption history aren't still fresh. Who would've thought she would've found bandages from her Battle of the Bands rival.
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life and death ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ Chapter 5
My shift was wrapping up. It had been an hour since Hunter Sylvester basically stole from the store, but my hands never found their way to the store's old rotary phone, to do what any normal person would do and contact the police. Why couldn't I dial the number?
They were just cigarettes right? Nothing I'd get fired for, for practically letting a minor robbery slide. Being completely honest, I was too impressed to be mad.
But as I emerged from the automatic doors and saw the smug son of a bitch smoking a cigarette by the building, I wasn't impressed anymore. I was mad. He knew I wouldn't call the cops. The idea of steam coming out of one's ear was a humorous exaggeration used in cartoons-- but that was not what came to mind, not when I could feel the steam, whistling like a train.
"You never fucking change, do you?" I couldn't bring myself to put my hands on him either. It seems there some meandering pattern tonight. Instead, I opted for my convenient tote, driving into his side with one blow. "You're gonna get me fired one of these days! Not everyone has a goddamn American Express and a daddy that cuts people open!"
I truly hope no one was around to hear that completely out of context statement.
If there was one thing I was taught-- well beat into-- it was to never make a scene. I couldn't draw anymore attention to myself than I already got as a foster kid. I took a step back. Breathe for Christ's sake, as hard as that is to do around him.
He was quiet. Just taking drags from the cigarettes, his eyes on me. His eyebrows were oddly scrunched, almost with guilt. Does he really never learn the consequences his actions have on others? Jesus, how does Kevin do it?
"No, you don't get to be silent now, don't make me feel dumb." I wagged my finger at him, like an old woman in a nursing home. "Come back to this store again and I will call the police."
Empty, empty threats.
The sun was rapidly setting, so I turned, heaving one big sigh. Footsteps carried out behind me, and suddenly I was being handed a twenty.
"Sorry."
I couldn't necessarily afford to continue being stubborn— I snatched the bill, stuffing it into my empty wallet, and I could've sworn I heard cheering from it. "Why are you following me?"
"It's not following if you're both going to the same place." He shrugged, casually shoving his hands into his pockets.
I scoffed. I mean, I guess he had a point but there's no way in hell. "You are not coming to my house."
"Trust me, I'm not visiting you. I've had my fair share of June Schlieb for one afternoon."
"Shut your mouth, Sylvester. I've had my share of you to last a goddamn life time." I wasn't necessarily exaggerating either.
He smiled, like almost genuinely. "Not even close."
I didn't have any smart ass comment to muffle the truth— which was that he was right. For the first three years I had been in this town, I'd had a big crush on Hunter Sylvester, and it didn't help that he was always hanging around my brother. I'll forever wish that they'd never become friends, so I'd never know the kind of person he actually was, maybe I would've still liked him. Or maybe I was the shitty person. I can never tell these days, it's like a daily game with him.
The night was young but came with no warm embrace. It was cold as shit, in a less poetic description. The weather here was odd. Day would be filled with humid breezes and the nights had bone-slithering drafts. The two of us walked in silence-- save for the clattering of my teeth. I was a clever talker, when the time came around, but I was not so good at small talk, especially not after smacking the person with my bag, as justifiable as it was.
Thankfully there was no more need for small talk, as I looked over to see Mr. Arden on his old rocking chair, in front of a basket of newborn beagles, writhing around.
"June! I was hoping to catch you on your way home. Sylvia delivered this litter only a few hours ago." He set his glass of iced tea down, giving me a tight-lipped smile. I cut across his lawn, to get a better look at the new puppies, a giddy-- almost childish grin on my face. Who the hell wouldn't smile at puppies?
"Awww. How precious. I'm glad it went well for Sylvia after all." A doting-glint filled my irises as I stared down at them.
Suddenly, Mr. Arden sighed. A sad sigh. "That's the thing. Girl didn't make through, too much blood. We predicted this but... we..."
It was a totally different hurt, seeing people you love and look up to get choked up. But nothing could've beat the hurt I was feeling, when I realized Sylvia was gone. The dog that chased me down the street while I was riding my bike, the very first week I had been here. And the same dog who licked my face when I fell off the same bike, only months after.
But I also didn't like crying in front of others so I smiled, sympathetically. Looking up at the sky also helped, it held the tears in your eyes-- well, sometimes. "I'm sorry, Mr. Arden. She was a great dog. Tell Ms. Arden I'm sorry as well, and tell her to make me another pot pie."
He smiled, picking up on my obvious hold-it-together tactics. I looked back to the boy who was awkwardly scuffing his shoes on the concrete sidewalk.
"What? Are you too metal to be seen in the presence of puppies, or something?" I leaned back on a porch pillar, nodding towards the basket.
He bit the inside of his cheek, smiling and shaking his head. "I'm actually allergic, so..."
"Bullshit."
Mr. Arden audibly choked on an ice cube, and managed to cough out, "Language, missy."
Hunter grinned, raising a brow in agreement. "Yeah, let's not ruin their innocence, June."
"Trust me, when they saw what you were wearing, there wasn't much of it left."
The boy stared defensively down at his attire, "Wha... what's wrong with-"
"Bye Mr. Arden! Take care!" I waved, making my way back the sidewalk.
"Take care, June." He settled back down in his rocking chair, smiling sadly.
It was hard tearing my eyes away from the puppies, when they looked so much like their mama. But I did anyways, my torn gaze finding it's way to Hunter's blank expression. "Cute, aren't they?"
He just hummed in agreement., keeping his eyes on the road ahead. Talk about a dry conversationalist-- I discreetly rolled my eyes, folding my arms across my chest. I guess that's what I get for accompanying myself with a boy who only talks about his own band.
