Cult

The Water Fight

"That's forty dollars please," I smile at the customer in front of me. He hands me the money as I give him his bag and he walks out of the shop with the bag in his left hand and his daughter's hand in his right.

I look to Sophie, who's been watching me for a while. She's still looking at me. Maybe she's noticed the change in my attitude for the last three weeks that I've been living with Ross. But she can't've known. No one apart from me, Ross and Delila knew anything about me living under the same roof as my boss' son.

Thankfully it was my last customer of the day and I was knackered. It was 6.25 and I was getting up to leave. 

Ross and I had worked out a new way of getting home so people - Sophie and Mr Cult - wouldn't know we were leaving together. He'd leave work at six and I'd leave at my normal time of six thirty. When I leave, he'd be in his car with a Caramel Frap ready for me. On the days he didn't spend in Cult Lagoon he'd just wait outside for me.

"Bye Sophie," I smile as I reach down to get my bag from under the counter. She narrows her eyes at me.

"So what's up with you and Ross?" she replies.  I'd been expecting this for a while. It took her much longer than expected to ask.

"We're just friends," I say, and we were. Nothing had happened since I'd moved in, and to be honest, I was glad. I was having a good time just finding him drop dead gorgeous without it leading anywhere. I think he felt the same, though it still bothered me that I had forgotten something that happened at the beach. He still wouldn't tell me what happened.

"You're close," she says.

"I know," I say, walking to the door. "See you tomorrow,"

"Yeah," she says, as the door shuts behind me.

 I walk for about a block and turn up into the car park and see Ross' jeep waiting for me. I get to the passenger side and jump in. I take my frap from the drink holder and take a sip.

"Did you know that if we were in England, you'd be the one driving?" he smiles. Ross isn't one to just say 'hello'.

"Did you know that if we were in England, we'd both be able to drink legally?" I retort.

"Let's go to England," he smirks, as he pulls out of the car park and heads back to the house.

I still don't know whether I can call this house a home. If someone asked me where home was, I'd probably still say New York.

"You're a good cook," I say, as I eat the last bite of my chicken cabonara. Bo is slobbering and nagging for our food by the side of the island. I sneak him the last piece of chicken from my bowl without Ross noticing.

"Thank you, Miss Lowe," he smiles and put the dishes in the sink.

"Aren't you going to wash them?" I ask.

He sighs. "How many times have I told you this?"

Don't get him started! Al warns.

"I know Delila needs to have something to do," I mock, "But come on, can't you wash two dishes?"

"And cutlery, and the stuff I made it with," he smiles.

"Wow," I slide off my chair and make my way to the settee.

"Can't you wash it up?" he asks.

"I've washed it up every night I've been here when you go off for your shower," I say.

"Really?"

"Yep,"

I take my phone out of my pocket and go on a game. I recieve a few text messages off my brothers, but I ignore them.