The Little Things

Chapter 2:

That day, Jupiter's wish didn't come true. Alas, her cramped neck popped up from her tear-stained pillow, her curled position the exact same as it was when she drifted to sleep. She sighed, realizing it was Saturday. Most kids would be stoked about a new weekend, but for her, it meant torture. And one word can summarize her pain: work.

Jupiter now stood in a small, stuffy radio shop on the opposite side of town from her home. She didn't look like the most approachable person, for she was wearing tight, black jeans, jet black combat boots, and a dark gray sweater that had a skull resting on the front. Her hair was left not brushed, the tangled brown waves twirling down the sides of her naked face. She definitely wasn't in the mood today, the bags under her emerald eyes defining her fatigue and sorrow. Suddenly, she woke up to find reality warning her to quit wallowing in her emotions. And by reality, she meant the only other employee standing in the Deer Creek Radio Shop, none other than the manager of the store, Thomas Orchid.

Despite the somewhat formal name, this man was the pure definition of man whore. During the changing shifts throughout the week, the other employees (which are also only high school women like Jupiter) are forced to work one at a time. Thomas's famous slogan explains why: "It's good to have quality time with your co-workers, especially if they're women." Honestly, the absolute only reason Jupiter dragged herself into this mess was for the money. Now that her mother has passed on, her family has had more difficulty paying bills. And although she was fairly new with the job, she quickly got comfortable. Her only job procedures were these: right when she walks in, make a pot of coffee for the manager, sit down on a stool near the merchandise, and pretend to look presentable and smart in front of all electronics. It wasn't that hard, except when actual customers decided to take a look in the store. They always strode over to her, completely astonished that a young girl like her would know how to work such old devices. It was then that she felt guilty and overwhelmed for lying to people about her fake skills, but she would always look back to see Thomas giving her a toothy grin and a thumbs up. It only made her feel worse.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Jupiter?" her manager exclaimed with crossed arms and an impatiently tapping foot. She flew to her feet, standing as straight as a pencil.

"Sir, I'm just -um, doing what you told me to do." Her shoes touched one another, longing to run and hide from the horrid man. His foot stopped tapping the floor.

"Rule number one," Thomas murmured into her ear. "If one of your co-workers is misbehaving, close up shop." He slowly walked to the glass front door, and slammed it shut, making Jupiter wince. His fingertips played with the We're Open sign before flipping it to the Closed side. After that, he shut the blinds over every window in the shop, darkening the room. Then, he practically ran towards Jupiter, a frightened gasp escaping her mouth.

"Rule number two," he whispered, snatching her wrist with a strong grip. "Punish them." He shoved her in the corner of the room, her back sparking with excruciating pain. Her eyes clouded with tears, the 30 year old man towering over her small figure.

"Please.." she muttered. "Not again." She squirmed, but his large body left no holes open.

Thomas knelt down to come face-to-face with Jupiter. His hungry eyes bore into her own, only producing more salty tears. His tongue came out, and it rode up Jupiter's cheek, collecting the fat tears. "I thought you were stronger than this, darling." She sniffled, snot clogging up her throat. "But that's okay," he whispered, a deep groan escaping his chapped lips. "You're cute when you cry."

Jupiter had one thought swimming through her mind, ignoring her manager's empty words. He left the door unlocked.

Thomas licked his lips and dove in for a kiss. It hurt, the hunger of his lips devouring her own. More tears slid off her face like icicles, her hands grasping his shoulders and pushing with all her might. He resisted easily, not much strength showing in his muscles. He moved down to her neck, his saliva coating her burning throat. Jupiter moved her feet, trying to kick his stomach or do anything to stand back up. But she failed again, his beefy hands roughly cupping her face. Jupiter stopped struggling, her hands loosening their grip. Am I giving up? She thought. Is this the end of me? Too much pain shrouded her memories. She shouldn't live like this anymore. She shouldn't live at all.

Thomas took off her sweater, throwing it behind them and revealing a maroon red bra. He moaned again as she shut her eyes, crying more. His thick fingers reached the hook of her bra, and as soon as he unlatched it, a thud came from above her. Suddenly, her manager slumped onto the floor, and she looked up to find a boy standing in front of her. Her eyes swept the area, sunshine pouring into the room from the front door, which was wide open. Jupiter focused back on the boy, and a subtle realization hit her. It was the boy. The same boy that saved her from jumping. His brown hair was in thick, messy layers, and his bright blue eyes shone with worry. His hands were clutching a baseball bat. He suddenly cleared his throat, blushes blossoming from both of his red cheeks. The boy stepped back to retrieve her crumpled sweater, gently offering it to her.

"Here," his soft voice broke the silence of the room. "You should probably put this back on."

Jupiter quickly straightened her back, hooking her bra back on and taking the sweater. For a moment their hands brushed against one another. His hands were cold and bony, but at the same time, delicate and beautiful. She shivered and pulled the sweater over her head, rubbing her puffy eyes of any remaining tears.

His hand was still there, and she silently took it, raising her back to her feet. "You have the hands of an artist." She slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing what she just said. The boy smiled warmly and let go of her other hand. "Thank you."

Jupiter started walking towards the door when a bony hand clasped her shoulder. Alarmed, she turned around, afraid it was Thomas. But with a sigh of relief, it was only the young man. He speedily took his hand back, his cheeks turning a crimson red for the second time. "I, um.. I'm sorry.."

Jupiter interrupted with a weak smile, "Don't be. You've saved my life twice in a row. You have nothing to be sorry about." She turned around to face him directly. "If anything, I should be apologizing." She shyly brushed her hair to the side and out of her face.

The boy took out his hand again, this time formally. "My name is Simon."

She shook his hand lightly and then shoved her fists into her jean pockets. "I'm Jupiter."

He grinned again, his pearly white teeth peeking out. "I know."

"So, uh.. why the baseball bat?" she asked with a tinge of curiosity.

"Oh, this thing?" he raised the wooden bat in the air. "I was going to paint it. And then I came in here, for some reason."

The girl tilted her head like a puppy. "You wanted to paint.. a baseball bat?"

Simon swung the bat over his shoulder. "What can I say? I'm the best artist in Deer Creek."