Shoplifting Hearts | ✓

2. a favor

i feel my whole body tense up, positively terrified of what might happen next. dammit. i thought the store was empty.

i turn around slowly, preparing to be met with a cranky old man that should be minding his own business. instead, i come face-to-face with an, admittedly, cute teenage boy. he looks to be about my age and, by taking a look at his shirt, it's not hard to come to the conclusion that he works here.

shit. i'm screwed.

i plaster a fake smile on my face, attempting to look as innocent as possible, though i probably just come off as creepy. "pardon me?" what the fuck? i never say that shit.

he eyes my hand suspiciously, which is tucked away in my jacket, still holding onto the bag of hearts with a tight grasp. "please empty your pockets, ma'am."

"ma'am? i'm not some forty-year old woman, you know."

"listen, lady, do as i say or i'm calling the cops, right now," he says, his hazel eyes narrowed with a hint of challenge glistening in them.

i gulp, and as much as i don't want to admit it, if he calls the police, i'm fucked. so, slowly, i remove the contents of my jacket.

a tissue. my phone. my car keys. and... the candy hearts.

inhaling a sharp breath, i wait with anticipation to see his response. the corners of his lips turn up a little, revealing a dimple on his left cheek. "i knew it."

"do you want a fucking trophy?"

"i don't appreciate your tone, young lady—"

"i'm eighteen," i interrupt.

"—and anyway, why would you shoplift candy hearts? they literally cost two dollars."

"well..." i pause to read his name tag, "darwin, you of all people should know that, in this world, there's this thing called 'survival of the fittest.' and you of all people should know this because you were literally named after the person who thought of the idea. ever heard of charles darwin, darwin?"

he rolls his eyes. "yes, i know who he is. i'm not stupid."

"well then you of all people should know—"

"please, stop saying that."

"—that the rich survive the best in the society we live in, and the lesser off... well, they don't. and that includes me."

he goes quiet at that, taking time to inspect my face for any trace of a lie. finally, his expression brightens up. just a little. "alright," he starts, "i won't get you jailed if..."

"if?"

he nods. "if... you do me a favor."

"what?" i ask incredulously. he's gotta be joking.

"you heard me. do me a favor and you won't have to deal with jail time." he smiles smugly.

"hell no. i don't take orders from you," i say, ready to turn on my heel and walk out of the store.

"okay," he shrugs. "it's your choice. but if i were you, i'd say a favor from a stranger is better than spending time in a cell."

i pause at that. i don't think you'd spend too much time in jail just for shoplifting. but, then again, jail is jail. and as much as i hate to acknowledge it, darwin's right.

"no naughty business," i say, giving him a stern look.

he quirks a brow. "of course."

"alright," i sigh. "what do you want me to do?"