Condom ; j.g

o n e

Effie Evans

I brushed off my ugly red sweater, looking up at the tall brown haired boy with annoyance.

"Nate, would it hurt you to do a bit of work for a change?" I asked.

Nate tore his attention away from his phone, smirking before he placed it into the front pocket of the ugly khakis we were forced to wear.

Nate and I both worked in our local store, hauling boxes around, stacking shelves and helping out customers with Nate's incredible social skills.

Nate preferred to sit with his phone glued to his hand, watching me do all the work instead. Maybe if he wasn't so cute, he would end up with me slapping his pretty little face.

His brown hair and dark brown eyes were what he liked to call his 'award winning' looks, and as you can probably guess- he wasn't conceited at all.

But he was a good friend and occasionally I could manage to get a conversation out of him.

He rolled his eyes as another customer walked through the door and shot them a patronisingly fake smile. I often wondered what exactly Nate had done in his job interview, because if they'd have seen how lazy he was, the managers definitely wouldn't have employed him.

Maybe he bribed them. Or maybe the interviewer was an eighteen year old girl that he could use his seductive charms on.

Regardless, I did all of the work and Nate got paid for doing next to nothing.

A short, elderly woman approached the counter, carrying a bottle of champagne in her fragile arms.

She placed the champagne onto the bright red counter and I nodded at Nate, hinting that he should serve her.

Nate priced up the champagne, placing it into a bag before stopping abruptly and placing a hand onto his hip.

"Excuse me Madam, you wouldn't happen to have any ID on you, would you?" He asked, the elderly woman frowning at him.

I rolled my eyes, pushing past his tall frame so that I was standing in front of him.

"He's just joking around. Have a lovely day Ma'am." I offered with a smile.

After the woman had exited the shop, I turned to Nate- who surprisingly was tapping away aimlessly in a calculator
instead of his phone.

"What the hell was that?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Steve told us to ID anyone buying alcohol."

Steve- our manager, also told us not to talk on the job, but he had no problem doing that.

"But it was obvious that she wasn't underage." I spoke.

He held a finger up in the air. "Ah, but she could have been wearing a costume."

I shook my head at his stupidity, biting back the smile that wanted to form on my face.

He tapped my shoulder, making me immediately turn around.

"Have you been to see your brother yet?" He asked.

I shook my head, biting my bottom lip. "I'll go after work. You wanna come with?"

"I can't. Felicia's having another dinner party." I nodded in response.

Felicia was Nate's stepmom. A few months ago she married Nate's dad and ever since then she's done nothing but spend his money and use his house as a party venue for her middle aged friends.