The Gangster And The Nerd

chapter 2 - unknown gesture

Desiree's perspective

I take one last look down the elevator and my breath is stuck in my throat. He is staring back at me. I blush and look away, but i can't help feeling stupid. It's not like I have an feelings for him - he is a "Bad guy" after all. I guess I just feel bad. You never really know the crap a person has to go through, and i guess you don't have to either, but to some degree, i feel like I understand his life. I've been through tough times myself. That's why I helped him. I cross the street, cautious of cars that sometimes don't stop, despite the fact that it's a pedestrian crossing. Across the street, a couple of guys are holding mini fizzy bottles with some slimy looking green substance in them. I shiver at the thought of them consuming whatever is in there. One of the guys who is wearing a red scarf and torn black gloves looks up at me, checking me out.

"Hey babe. What's your number?" He hisses. I glare at him, then walk away quickly. "Awww....where you going..." I ignore him and keep on walking, unimpressed. You know what. I take back what I was thinking before. Sometimes the people around here are just disturbing. Maybe they just don't want to turn back the time? Maybe the don't want to move on? Who knows. I certainly don't.

I head towards our shop, a vivid lime green building which handles "exotic Indian substances" such as curry, tandoori chicken and naan, whilst also catering for western food. To be frankly honest, we really only serve hot chips. I open up a drawer near the counter then haul all the books inside, leaving aside my days reading: An Intake on NZ History, then head to the kitchen. It's a fairly congested area, there's not much space to actually put stuff in it, and the fryer is not one of those triple sized mega fryers that you would find at your usual fish and chips shop, and if i were to really give an insight on what it looked like, I would say that our 'Five Star' kitchen looks more like a middle class housewives kitchen to me, and it feels like one too. Everything about this place is home, and i love that. My uncle is drying and storing some dishes when he arrives, but I ask him to go have a rest. It's not that busy anyways, and hey - I can handle it right? He agrees and says that he will be back in a few hours, and nod with a smile on my face, finally i get some responsibility! My train of thoughts are rattled by the ringing of the bell on the counter. Ring-Ring-Ring-Ring-Ring. Geez man, stop it! I'm COMING!!! Honestly, who rings a bell like that? My eyebrows furrow in a frown and I consider yelling at the person to just quit ringing the bell. But my face turns expressionless as i stare at the person in front of me. He looks up and grins. Finally the ringing stops.