ORIGINALLY WRITTEN: APRIL 14TH, 2016
GIF ABOVE: GRIFF AND CARSON RELATIONSHIP GOALS
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I decide to skip school Tuesday. Not for anything special like a holiday since it's just September 18th (and I'm pretty sure it's just another normal day for everyone), but to go grocery shopping.
I set my mom's breakfast on her bedside table when I check on her before I leave. She's still asleep, so I kiss her forehead and tuck the sheets in tighter around her. She doesn't even stir.
The wind is cool against my skin as I leave the house and head towards my car in the driveway. I rub my arms against the chill even though it's not that cold. As soon as I get into my car, I roll the windows down and turn on some tunes. I sing along to various songs and savor the feeling of the wind against my skin as I drive to grocery store.
I smirk as I pass the high school, feeling like giving it the middle finger salute. I do exactly that and break out into a full smile. Ah, it feels good just to skip school for once. After countless perfect attendance records, it's like a new sensation of freedom to be able to break from the norm.
The parking lot of Walmart is mostly empty by the time that I arrive. Either everyone is at work or has to make a last minute buy for some product they need today. Either way, I know I won't be having many problems with the stench of the customers. I swear, Walmart just attracts every weird, smelly person on the planet. And it's disgusting, really.
I grab a cart as I go in, smiling at an old lady working on horizontally "stacking" all of the remaining carts and push through aisles. First, I walk through the bread aisle, then go for peanut butter and jelly and other necessities. I make my way through beverages, fruits and vegetables, and all the other items scrawled out on the list I'd made.
I'm grabbing some yogurt when I get a tap on my shoulder. I spin around, caught off guard. It's so empty and quiet in the store and I hadn't noticed anyone coming up behind me. I sigh in relief when I see that it's only a familiar elderly woman and her husband.
Mr. and Mrs. Martello.
"Oh, dear!" Mrs. Martello exclaims, squinting at me from behind her glasses. She smiles, revealing what I'm pretty sure are dentures instead of actual teeth. "Carson, doll, is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me, Mrs. Martello."
"Oh my, is it the weekend already? Have I gotten my days all mixed up again, Albert?" Mrs. Martello pats her husbands arm and glances at him in question.
Albert Martello is not quite as memory challenged as Mrs. Martello and smiles down at her. "No, dear. It is, in fact, a Tuesday."
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