From the 5th Floor

Two

A T O M

I love these moments. It's just Brick, Jersey, and me in the breakroom. All three of us are being in different departments of this big-box allows us to coordinate these rare and perfect lunchbreaks. 

"Friday night's still on?" Brick asks through bites of his re-heated burger. Jersey and I nod along with our mouths too full to say anything back.

Every Friday Brick hosts a mini-dinner party for his girlfriend and two closest friends, Jersey and me. We've gone every weekend without fail for three years, but Brick has to confirm every single time.

"I'm thinking we break open Jersey's Star Wars box set, eh? You bring the movies, I provide the snacks?" 

"I don't know if I'm ready for Star Wars yet," I say, wiping pizza sauce off my chin. 

"Okay, you've been saying that for years. Atom, it's time. We're watching Star Wars," Brick turns to Jersey, fingers interlaced formally, "Jersey? Star Wars?"

"Can't," Jersey says with her mouth full of orange chicken. "I left them at my brother's house."

There's a small kerfuffle over what movie we should watch instead when the breakroom door swings open. The three of us still at the assistant manager's presence.

"Ash," Brick says unable to mask his annoyance. The room's comfortable energy dips considerably as Ash moves to the fridge. Our planning for Friday night dies quickly and quietly.

"You guys try not to crash any shopping carts backs here, alright? Two days without any accidents thanks to the 'Triplet Threats,'" Ash says with sarcasm so tangible I can almost grind my teeth on it. I don't know who coined that name for the three of us. And I don't know why he lumps me in with them when I'm always just the enthusiastic bystander.

He moves from the fridge back to the door, brushing his fingers along the back of my shirt on his way. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle at the feeling. I catch his eye before the door swings shut and he gives me a sly wink. For a moment I'm lost in the emotion his attention gives me, but I'm brought back to earth roughly by Brick and Jersey's taunts.

"What is it about that rat face that you don't find repulsive?" Brick asks. Always the honest one, he screws his nose up tight and fakes a gag in my face.

"He's not the worst person in the world," I say lamely.

"He's the worst person in the store, Atom."

"He really is," Jersey agrees.

Ash and I aren't dating. We probably never will, but he's a little older than me, a little taller, and he thinks I'm cute. I think he's cute too. He looks like a young version of John Travolta, circa his Grease era. There's not a lot wrong with that picture if you ask me. Really my only complaint about him is that he doesn't like my friends. He's told me before that if it wasn't for Brick and Jersey I might have already been a floor supervisor.

"That's okay," I had said in reply. "I like my friends more than I like extra work."

"That's the kind of attitude that keeps people at cash registers, Atom. You don't want to be like that for the rest of your life."

I never told Brick or Jersey about that conversation. Why add fuel to the fire?

I don't see a future with a guy like Ash anyway. I'm of the mentality that as long as he wants to sneak kisses with me in the bathroom and behind palettes of baby formula, I'll let him. In between the aisles we're only a little less than perfect and I trust myself enough not to fall too far with him. 

Our break ends and I'm heading back to my register when I'm pulled into the supply closet along the back wall of the store. Ash's warm breath travels down the back of my neck as my eyes adjust to the dark, and my nose adjusts to the smell of the chemicals.

"You looked like you missed me in there," he says in a whisper. His hands travel up my arms and rest on the plains of my shoulders, fingers digging a bit into my skin.

"Actually, you were looking at the face I make when I'm about to finish a slice of pizza."

"I don't think so," he spins me around slowly, "I know what I saw. You were wondering where I've been all day."

"Well?" I breathe. His mouth is just an inch away from mine. "Where have you been?"

He takes my chin in his hand and pulls me into a kiss so warm and secretive that even breathing in this moment feels like a breach of privacy. He kisses me, and kisses me, and kisses me until I'm sure I'll faint from lack of oxygen. Then,  just as I'm reaching the brink of consciousness he sweeps his hands under my thighs, lifts, and presses me between his body and the wall.

I suck in a fast breath laced with the smell of bleach and mildew before his mouth is on mine again. The feeling of tears prickle at my eyes as I grip onto the back of his shirt. How does he do this? How is it possible for any one human being to feel such intense emotions? Is this much lust in one body healthy? Is this what love feels like?

Am I already in love with Ash? Have I always been?

A cry threatens to break free from my throat when, suddenly, he pulls himself away from me. He drops me back onto my feet, smiling down at me.

"Have fun with those friends of yours Friday night. Sounds like a real sophisticated night with likeminded people." He laughs low and unkindly.

A flash of light from the door opening and then I'm plunged back into darkness. Alone. There's a pang in my chest, a throb in my gut.

I run a finger across my lips. They're sore and cold from the absence of Ash's. I suck in another stinging, bleachy breath. 

Now, alone, I'm sure I could never fall in love with him.