Aroma Park, Illinois; An extremely small town with a population of a little over 700, a total of 1.2 square miles of land, mostly voting Republican, and over half of the population not having any religion. This was the home of Eric Cain, a 16-year-old Sophomore that had taken a disliking to spills and items not in their correct places. Not that Eric was a clean-freak or anything. No of course not. He was -like I said before- a 16-year-old, but he also worked at a convenience store...
Red lights flashed and the alarm clock whaled. What was happening? Eric stirred in his bed, contemplating whether he should get out up or just sleep the day away. He swung an arm across and behind himself, hoping his hand would somehow land on top of the 'snooze' button without him searching. Sadly, this was not what happened. His hand hit a glass of water from many nights before (it had been sitting there untouched for so long that he had forgotten about it), and it toppled to the ground, seeping into the carpet right in front of the nightstand. Eric didn't really care at this point. He forced himself to sit up, partially blinded by the sun, and roughly turned the clock off as if it would know not to annoy him next time. He just sat for a few moments, slowly regaining his sight, and then stood, only to groan at his now wet socks. He stormmed out the hall and into the bathroom, pulling off his socks and throwing them in the basket of other dirty clothes. This then reminded him of his chores, making him roll his eyes in protest as the thought of his mother nagging at him replayed in his head. The wicker basket handled bowed from the weight inside. Eric heaved everything downstairs, dumping the contents of the basket into the empty washer. He grabbed a pile of his now clean clothes as he made his way back upstairs, not wanting to make another unnecessary trip. He pulled on some jeans and an old tattered 'Mario Bros' tee, replacing his now discarded hoodie and sweatpants.
It was late June, and school had just ended. In August, Eric would be a Junior. As he thought about his High School career, he sighed in relief, realizing that he was half way through. Eric put his old clothes on top of the spill, feeling to lazy to get a towel. He soaked it up, put new socks on, and fixed his hair. He stared at himself through the mirror. Hazel eyes, light brown hair, and extremely tall. Those were the first three things people would say when asked how he looked. He didn't mind really. Being tall was pretty useful. Eric's phone buzzed on his nightstand. He picked it up and read.
Text Message From Angela:
You up yet? I'm outside.
Eric cursed to himself, running and brushing his teeth speedily. He quickly texted his friend Angela back with a "one sec'. Toothbrush in mouth, he pulled on his boots, and a light jacket. He spit into the sink in a nonchalant manner, wiping his mouth, grabbing his backpack and phone, and finally walking out the door.
"What's up with you?" Angela jokingly questioned as Eric climbed into the car.
Eric ducked as he moved through the doorway, being too tall to sit like a normal person. He slouched so that he wouldn't hit his head on the low riding ceiling of his friend's light blue car. When he closed the door, his knees were at his chest level, trying not to crush his backpack.
"I don't know... What's up with you?" Eric retaliated.
Angela would have laughed by now from his attempt to find a comfortable way to sit, but Eric had been in this car many times. Being stuck in a small space really didn't bother him. Everywhere felt small to him.
"Did you get everything? Last time you forgot your phone." She looked at him quizzically.
"Yeah I got everything... What time is it?"
Angela gestured to the digital clock next to the CD player. Mornings were slow for the both of them. The less amount of talking, the better. Eric nodded and leaned back as much as he could.
"Let's go then."
She turned the key in the ignition with a neutral face, accustomed to the soft roar of the 2004 Ford Taurus. She pulled on the gear stick and moved it to drive, not needing to look now that she had done it for two years. They had started driving to Dollar General. Angela was the assistant manager, basicly doing every job in the store that the other employees were slacking on. The ride was mostly silent, only interrupted by Angela's cup being placed into it's holder after she sipped from it. The pair climbed out of the car, grabbing their things and slamming the doors shut.
"Having a good day so far?" She asked as she started unlocking the doors.
"Oh, of course. I'm feeling ecstatic." Eric smirked as sarcasm dripped from his words.
Angela rolled her eyes and pulled the doors open, gesturing inside, she said "Ladies first~." Eric walked in, dismissing her jocularity, and dropping his backpack on the counter. He unzipped it and handed her a pack of peanut butter crackers. He took some for himself and sat down on the floor with his back pressed against the checkout. Angela followed, opening her pack as he did, and slowly munching down. Every Saturday morning the two of them did this, enjoying the peace and quiet of the store. Usually Angela was very loquacious, but if you gave her food she wouldn't talk until it was gone. Her two favorite activities were in fact, eating, and talking. Eric looked at the clock on the wall. 8:24. They opened at nine. He sighed contently, looking up at the ceiling to the lights illuminating the room with a yellow hue. The paneled ceiling and the walls were eggshell colored, matching the black and white tiled floors. Each tile was three feet by three feet. Eric and Angela shared one.
The time seemed to waste away all too quickly. At 8:45, Angela had already eaten three packages of crackers (a normal breakfast for her), and finished the rest of her drink. The two of them put on their uniforms and unlocked the doors. Eric set his backpack under the cash register and put on his nametag. At exactly eight-o'clock, the bell above the door rang, signaling the arrival of a costumer. He was a rough looking man, slowly lumbering over to the counter.
"I need some Camels." He spoke with a gruff voice.
Eric nodded and grabbed a pack of the cigarettes, setting them on the counter.
"Will that be all?" He asked.
The man nodded, and Eric scanned the small package, putting them back on the counter for the man to take.
"That'll be $4.32."
He pulled his wallet out from his back pocket and filtered through it, pulling out a five dollar bill and handing it to the cashier. Eric put the bill into the register, carefully counting out the change and grabbing the receipt, handing it to the burly man.
"Your change is 68¢."
The man took his things and left the store.
