SNICKERS || Seth Clearwater ✔️ [SLOW UPDATES]

0.1

A M E T H Y S T

➵

Shifting on my already tired feet, I nervously stand in front of the counter of the small, dim lit corner store.

Miranda, my interviewer and possible future boss and coworker, stands behind the counter lazily, leaning over the faded tile countertop, her arms crossed over it and her chin resting in the palm of her right hand.

"So, how old are you?" She questions, her bright blue eyes zoning in on my features, studying me.

I bite my lip nervously. How could I tell her that I'm underage for not only a job but to be living alone. Surely she'll want to meet my parents once she realizes I'm only seventeen.

I let go of my lip and glance around, hoping to ignore the eerie silence surrounding us in the entire store.

I shift my weight onto my opposite foot, trying my best to distract myself from the obvious tension between us at the moment.

I try and mentally running away from the problems, my problems. Maybe I could pull my fourth grade theatre acting skills together and say I'm sick? Reschedule or something. Maybe find a job cleaning bathrooms or something.

No, Thyst. You have to pull through with this one. You can't keep side stepping your issues. You have to tell her.

"I'm, um," I clear my throat, awkwardly, and wring my hands together in front of me, "I'm seventeen."

Miranda inhales deeply, making me impossibly more nervous, and straightens her spine while standing up.

She crosses her arms over her chest and finally stops inhaling intimidatingly.

I shrink back into my white blouse that is wrapped around me.

((A/N fucking wattpad just deleted 300 words of my work. God freaking damnit.))

Her eyes dig into my skull, penetrating my thoughts. I glance up at her hesitantly, and suddenly she grins like a Cheshire Cat.

I gulp and keep my body stiff, watching her carefully and cautiously. Her pearly white teeth show through and I can almost imagine the smell of her spearmint toothpaste.

"You've run away, haven't you?"

My mouth opens agape slightly. How could she know that? Am I really that obvious? Has all of my work slowly come to a useless end? Is she going to turn me in?

Instead, she uncrosses her arms and steps out from behind the marble countertop, quickly grabbing some keys off of the hook connected to the wall, and turning to me finally.

"Let's take a walk, shall we?" She says, holding her pill small hand out to me, and I take it with caution.

She leads me to the old wooden, flimsy door with mesh covering it. I watch as she slips off her black work heels, and I follow her actions.

After we leave our shoes by the doorframe inside, she leads us out and let's the door fall closed behind us.

She swiftly locks it before turning and leading us down a trail, to the beach.

"How did you know?" The words leave my mouth before I can bare to stop them, "That I ran away?"

She gives me a side smile and a small glance, before opening her mouth and beginning to explain herself.

"I was like you, once. Many years ago, I ran away to try and make a life out of this reservation for myself. I know what it feels like to be scared, scared to be anywhere or do anything.

I know what the feeling is like trying to get a job. That's why I scrounged up the corner store, for those who need it."

I let a ghost of a smile take up my face, nodding my head a bit to let her know I'm listening.

She's wonderful; how she takes in those who need to be brought up. She helps those who need to be helped, cares for those who need it most.

She's a beautiful old soul.

Our feet continue to sink into the warm sand, the sun shining down on us quite comfortably.

"You have the job."

I halt, turning to look at her, and her smile and kind eyes make a grin of my own.

I wrap my arms around her without much thought, and let out a relieved sigh.

"Thank you," I repeat over and over, quieter after each time.

She laughs softly and wraps her arms around me, too. I let a few happy tears leave my eyes and I smile again.

"Thank you."