Chapter 3
My mum insisted I go shopping with her, and I thought, okay, we'll be at a convenience store. I assumed it'd be similar to SuperDrug, or Tesco. But was it? Nope.
It was a small market called "Dansville Merchantile'. As you can tell by the title, it isn't your normal grocery store. I kid you not, it was like stepping into a store from the 1800's. And it smelled of old paper, if you could imagine what old paper smelled like.
Regardless, I found myself in here with my mum, in the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday. We were currently looking for the butter, which you think would be easy to find since this is such a small store. Nope. We've walked down every single aisle, and it's like they don't even sell the stuff.
My mum sent me to go ask a worker where to find it, and even though I didn't want to, I complied. I went to the back of the store, where the cash register inconveniently was. Have you ever heard of a store that kept its register in the back?
I jumped when I saw familiar, raven hair behind the counter, reading a book. She didn't seem like the reading type to me.
"Whatcha reading?" I asked, leaning my arms on the counter as I peeped over it, trying to get a glance at the book.
She looked at me with a bored expression, showing me the front cover. It read, "Frankenstein". I've never read the actual book, but I understand the gist of it.
"So you have a thing for monsters, then? Who's better, Frankenstein, or Dracula?"
She rolled her eyes, "First of all, Frankenstein isn't a monster, you fucking dumbass. He's the creator. The actual monster doesn't have a name. Secondly, monsters suck. I'm reading it because I have to do a paper on it for school."
"School? What university do you go to?"
The girl huffed, as if I just asked the most offensive question in the world. "Dansville High School, actually."
"Oh. But you were drinking, so how are you still in high school, but getting drinks at the bar?"
"Use your brain, please. I dropped out, and I'm in a program now so I can get my diploma. I'm a few years late, but if I finish the rest of my credits, I can graduate. Better late than never."
"Oh. Well, good for you, then."
"Yep," she stated, popping the p as her eyes scanned over the words in her book. There was an awkward silence for a few minutes. It was actually nice watching her read. Is that weird?
"Anyway, do you happen to know where the butter is at? My mum and I are having trouble finding it."
"Can you please talk in a normal way, you sound like you're from another planet with all of this proper shit," she groaned, setting the book down before stepping behind the counter and leading the way to what I hope is the butter.
I shrugged, "I can't help it. It's just how I talk."
She didn't respond, only leading me to an aisle and pointing where the butter is at.
"But that says it's made out of goat milk," I stated, and she looked at me as though I were stupid.
"Okay, now look at the butter next to the goat milk butter. And what do you see?"
I looked over, and sure enough, there was normal butter.
I smiled sheepishly, reaching down to grab it and thanking her. But when I looked up, she was gone.
I decided it would probably be weird if I bugged her anymore today, so I went looking for my mum, who was at the checkout with butter already in her cart.
"Oh, Harry, dear, I found the butter already," she smiled at me, looking at the butter in my hand.
"Thanks for letting me know, mum," I responded dryly, turning around to take the butter back.
"It's okay, I can put it back later. Just set it here," The girl spoke, and I think that was the first time I had ever heard an ounce of politeness escape her mouth. I nodded, shocked, before setting the butter down as she requested.
She rang the things up quickly, giving my mum the price and we paid for our things before leaving the shop.
"She was nice," my mum grinned, and I laughed to myself.
If only she knew.
