Tiger Stripped Leggings {Joshler}

TigerBoy_Cp 15

A waft of pretzels and books meet my sniffer as I open the shop door, a small smile forming on my lips.

On the counter, a skinny teenager with heavy eyeliner and neon jacket sits perched with her legs resting on the glass counter. The container holding her feet seem to be filled with antique comics and novels, nicely presented in a pile. Looking up from her phone, I notice her smile, eyeing my outfit with humor.

"Haven't I seen you before?" Placing down her zebra phone, her hands prop up her chin, red gel nails glistening, along with glittering eyes of fascination. Her eyes, now up facing the lights, show the multiple creases of smeared eyeliner, red lipstick popping. Swallowing a random up chuck of bile, I force myself to ignore the way she trails her eyes up and down my body.

This lady seemed to be related to the Australian woman, similar in flamboyant clothing, but night and day in behavior and age. Shaking my head 'No' I quickly scan the store, aching for a sight of fluffy hair and crooked smiles. Pursing her lips with a smack, I cringe and try to scurry past the intimidating female. Walking into the store with my back turned to the front, I pretend to look interested in sewing kits and random board games, drawing closer and closer to the back of the store, near the drums.

Weaving in and out of the aisles, It dawns on me the absence of customers, a chill of silence setting in. Glancing behind my shoulder, the woman seems to be laughing at some article on her device occupied. 'Well,' I think, 'At least I'm not being checked out anymore. Gay guys probably aren't her type' I joke, finding myself hilarious.

After what seems like decades of rummaging through dirty pants and random placed porcelain bowls, I sighed and turn to the counter for help. Knowing how ironic it was to ask for assistance after the cold shoulder I gave her, I still felt the constant urge to know when the boy would be back.

At least have his number.

Stopping with an embarrassed sigh, the neon cake face raises her eyebrow, eyes still glued to the screen.

Shuffling uncomfortably for a minute, I find the courage to blurt out,
"Do you know 'Tiger boy'?"

'Shit'.

Looking up slowly from what appeared to be the Cosmopolitan digital newspaper, I find a look of 'What the hell' in her eyes. Nervously clearing my throat, I put my hands up as if retreating and start over.

"What I was meaning to ask was, 'do you know a boy that works on Fridays here?' He's sort of short- " I motion a few inches from my nose down and sheepishly smile. "And he wore a tiger stripped set of leggings, I perceived."

Repeating the whole "duck face" pout, her browns knit in confusion, shaking her fake hair with an plastic apology.

Determined figure out this boy, I ask of the manager and her buisness. The neon girl tells me of the Australian woman, Velveeta, the original owner and founder of Possible or Plausible since 1983. Her eyes bore into mine, detail after detail accompanied by a pearly smile.

I manage to give her ten minutes and cut her off, telling her of an appointment to be attended to. Red faced, (or as red as make-up could cover) she nods, startled. I nod and begin to turn away when I see a genuine look of thought pass on her face. I crook my head in wonderment, noticing her mouth open slightly then close, pouting.

"That's kid you were describing." She states, on the verge of sounding rhetorical and questioning at once.

"Teenager, I believe." I correct her playfully. Rolling her eyes, she brushes my comment off sarcastically.

"Yes, the teenager with tiger leggings you told me about... He wouldn't be the manager's friend's son, would he?"

Fishing back a memory of the hazel eyed boy staring dreamily at the ceiling, I remember him telling me about his mom's friend, the owner.

Eyes dazzling, I nod furiously and smile wide, stretching my unused cheeks broadly. Laughing at this weird action, the girl laughs at me, but this time without malice.

"I know him! Yeah, he's a bit strange, and only works on Fridays and Tuesdays. His name was something like Tyson or Thomas..." She begins to name multiple T names up to Tandon before I stop her again.
Giving her a soft, most thankful look (While trying to push away the discomfort) I smirk, thanking her formally. Visually swooning, she slightly puckers her lips in adornment and smile back dreamily at me. Widening my eyes, I turn away and feel a ripple of laughter stroking my ribcage, threatening to burst.

Stepping out of the warm store and into the bustling mall, I let a loud laugh erupt from my stomach and lean on a nearby wall. People passing by no doubt giving me confused stares, I close my eyes with reddened cheeks and a newfound joy.

'I'll stay for you. Even with that ridiculously sappy girl there.' My enormous burst of laughter out, I pull myself together and take out my phone for music to listen to. Ear buds hand in hand, I scan the opposite wall from P&P and notice a map of the mall and it's stores.

Shoving in my ear buds in with annoyance and hunger nipping at my sides, I press play on the shuffle button, and start off towards the map to find the food mom needs.

'I bet Tiger doesn't have to get groceries...'