The Night We Met by Ruero

Chapter 17 : New Person, Same Old mistakes

The next morning, I woke up feeling like I'd downed a triple espresso shot. It was like someone had hit the reset button on my brain, and suddenly, I was bursting with energy. No more wallowing in self-pity; today was going to be different. Hell, I felt like a completely new person, and I was damn well going to make sure I used this newfound energy in the right way.

I grabbed a stack of sticky notes and a pen, the paper practically trembling in my hands from the excitement coursing through me. As I blasted some metal music that rattled the walls of my room—good ol' therapy for the soul—I started scribbling down my plans for the day.

First thing to do: "Get a temporary job."

Second thing: "Make things better with Sam."

Third thing: "Ask Angelica for a dance at the new semester party."

Fourth and last: "Derek." That asshole was going to get what was coming to him.

I stuck those notes on the wall like they were declarations of war, each one a small battle I had to win before the new semester started. It was a holiday, so I had the whole day to myself to get my shit together.

Early in the morning, I decided to hit up the nearest Walmart to grab some stuff. The parking lot was practically deserted, the kind of quiet that made you feel like you'd walked onto the set of some apocalyptic movie. Inside, it was the same story. The aisles were empty, just the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead and the soft clattering of a cart a few rows over.

I was on autopilot, throwing milk and my favorite cereal into my basket like I had some sort of grocery list in my head. As I turned the corner to the cold drink section, my gaze landed on Derek, of all people, stocking up on his usual energy drinks. I instinctively turned back, mentally cursing my luck. "Great, just what I needed. Running into him first thing in the morning," I muttered under my breath.

Still, it wasn't like he owned the damn place. I went on about my business and headed to the counter.

As I approached, I heard the unmistakable sound of Mr. Davis, the store owner, tearing into someone over the phone. "I hired you to work, not to get sick and ask for leave every other damn day! If you keep this up, I'm gonna fire your ass!" He slammed the phone down as I reached the counter, his face still red from the conversation.

"Good morning, Mr. Davis," I said, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

He looked up, forcing a smile. "Morning, Ethan. How's it going?"

"Can't complain. You seem a little stressed, though," I said, trying to sound casual while also being genuinely curious.

"Ah, it's nothing," he grumbled, waving his hand dismissively. "Just the jerk I hired for the cashier job. Kid's useless—always getting sick, always asking for time off. Now I'm stuck here all day because of it."

"That sucks. Maybe you should hire someone else," I suggested, noticing his frustration.

"Yeah, easier said than done. Good help's hard to find these days, especially with these damn kids glued to their phones 24/7. Anyway, if you know anyone who wants a job, let me know. I'm desperate."

"Sure thing, I'll keep an ear out," I replied, grabbing my bag and heading out of the store.

As I stepped outside, I spotted Derek getting into his car. An idea sparked in my mind, something that I hadn't considered before. "Maybe," I thought, before turning back on my heels and heading back into the store.

"Hey, Mr. Davis!" I called out, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.

He looked up, a bit surprised to see me again. "Forgot something?"