target boy ≫ l.h. [on hold]

7%

-cassidy.

i sit in michael's bed, nervously twiddling my thumbs. today was my first day of work, and to say i was nervous was an understatement. i've never worked before, and i'm extremely socially awkward.

great. a perfect recipe for an inevitable disaster. watch me get fired three minutes on the job.

"let's go cass! time for your first day of work! wait, let me be that annoying parent and take like 500 pictures of you so i can remember this day forever," michael teases, giving me a tight hug. i smile at his warm display of affection, something that gives me security and a sense of belonging in this time of my life.

"shut up you dork, and drive me to work. i don't wanna be late."

"aw, well aren't you just the most charming thing on the planet," michael squishes my cheeks before dragging me down the stairs and into his car.

on the way to target, michael and i sing along to bring me the horizon, issues, and our new favorite, pvris. having a best friend with the same music taste as you was truly a blessing.

"well, good luck! don't fuck anything up and get fired," michael beams once we reach the massive parking lot.

"thanks for the words of encouragement," i say sarcastically. he waves and with that, i'm left alone in front of the super chain that is target.

"here goes nothing," i exhale and step into my first day of work.

--

"and to complete transactions, just press this button right here," miranda, my coworker, finishes. cash registers were actually not that hard to use, but i was most definitely concerned i would overcharge a customer or forget an item.

"thanks," i smile at her and she nods, walking away to complete her own tasks.

luke was right, they were low on cashiers, so i was sent immediately to the checkout lanes to start my day.

my first customer is an elderly lady with a friendly smile. in her basket is four bags of cat food, and i internally laugh at the stereotype portrayed here. i scan and bag her items flawlessly and my chest swells with pride for not messing up. maybe this wasn't so bad at all.

"how's the first day going?" a familiar voice asks. i turn around to see luke approaching my checkout line with the new state champs cd and a can of rockstar energy drink. he sets it down on the belt and pulls out his wallet.

"it's been going, i guess," i shrug, scanning his two items. "want a bag? i know you probably don't, but i'm required to ask..."

luke laughs. "i know. and no, but thanks," he takes his credit card out of its designated spot in his batman wallet and hands it to me, our fingers brushing slightly. i shiver at the contact, and i look up to see him blushing furiously. it was quite entertaining, actually, the blush made him look like a tomato.

"why not just pick these up tomorrow when you're working?" i ask. luke plays with his lip ring as if deciding whether to answer or not.

"i wanted to see you," he mumbles silently. i laugh and decide to continue to tease him, seeing luke flustered over me was adorable.

"you saw me yesterday, and the day before, and you met me the day before that,"

"isn't that strange though? that we've only known each other for three days?" he questions. "honestly, i feel like i've known you for years."

"yeah, it does feel longer than that," i say. a woman appears at my checkout station and starts piling various items such as cereal, baby wipes, two sweaters and even a toilet plunger onto the conveyor belt.

"well, i better get going. i don't want kerry to yell at you for getting distracted by me. see you around." he says with a smile, waves, and makes his way to the exit.

as i'm scanning the lady's diverse purchases, my mind wanders off to what luke said. it's true, even though we've only known each other for three days, it feels like i've known him for as long as i've known michael.

i, cassidy mitchell, hate people. it's not a secret. the only exception to that statement up until now has been michael, but michael may not be my only exception anymore–and that terrifies me to the ends of the earth.

--

"cass, are you sure you don't want to go home? i mean, as much as you don't think so, your parents are worried. they've been calling my mom at least five times a day to ask about you," michael exasperates. we were at michael's favorite restaurant, a local pizza place, waiting for luke to show up. he also said he was bringing a friend.

"michael, all they want is for me to give them an answer on whether i want to stay with my mom or my dad," i blow into my straw and bubbles appear in my water. usually michael would've giggled and followed my actions, but he didn't this time because he was in the middle of his psychologist phase.

deep down, i knew he was right. my parents aren't monsters, they just... don't pay attention. to me, at least. they're my parents after all; how could they not care about me and my wellbeing?

"hey guys! this is ashton, ash this is michael and cassidy-i-prefer-cass," luke slides in next to me in the booth and ashton sits next to michael.

i've seen this ashton guy before, at a party. he was insanely attractive, with curly golden locks and hazel eyes, dimples adoring his cheeks and glasses framing his well-sculpted face. he had a boyish look to him, but at the same time, he was sexy to say the least.

"cassidy-i-prefer-cass? lovely name," he teases, examining me thoughtfully. his gaze is intense and i squirm a little.

"hey, i love blink-182!" michael pipes up and ashton tears his eyes away from me to focus on my green haired best friend.

"dude, i can tell we're gonna be fast friends," ashton says, gesturing to michael's band shirt.

soon the three of them fall into a conversation about music and bands, luke occasionally turning to me to give me a small smile.

"do any of you play instruments? i've always wanted to start a band, but you can't do much with that dream when your only friend is a pessimistic girl who has a deep, passionate hatred for the human race," michael jokes, gesturing over to me.

"very funny," i mutter.

"i play drums! i have since i was, like, five," ashton screams. "luke plays guitar too! oh my god, oh my god, let's start a band!" at this point everyone sitting in the vicinity is looking at the handsome aussie with amusement.

"this could be the best idea you've had in a long time, mike." luke grins. my mind flashes back to two nights ago, when michael and luke decided it would be funny to stick fake love letters from kim kardashian in random people's mailboxes. this, of course, further proved my observation that boys were idiots.

"do you know any bassists? or for that matter, any other musicians that don't suck?" michael's basically bouncing in his chair now.

"michael, who says you don't suck?" i say.

"ouch," luke gives me a high five for the burn and the contact from our hands sends jolts down my spine.

what is happening to me?

"i do know a bassist, in fact," ashton smirks. "luke, remember calum hood?"