Senioritis 2

Welcome Home, MJ

"Hey Noah, how many jars of pickles do we have in the back?" Peter asked, as he sprayed some all-purpose cleaner on the counter and began to wipe furiously.

"Umm..."

Peter heard the sound of Noah's voice wavering as he darted back into the storage room.

It was seven minutes past three, which meant their afternoon shift at Mr.Delmar's store was over, but they couldn't leave till all the counters were wiped down, money was stored away safely, and every can was counted.

They had gotten pretty quick at counting up, so Peter was okay with it.

"Sixteen!" Noah called out. "Ah, shit, this bottle is leaking- I've got pickle juice all over my hands."

Peter pushed his curls out of his face, before picking up his pen and clipboard.

"Sixteen." Peter muttered, writing the number down before putting a check next to 'pickles'.

"Anything else?" Noah asked, walking out of the storage room and wiping his hands on his apron.

"Dude, just wash your hands." Peter laughed, as Noah awkwardly walked up to the sink at the back.

Noah was laughing too. Peter shook his head, a smile still on his face. He watched Noah washing his hands, with his thick black glasses half falling off his nose, his brown hair slicked neatly to the side and his pale blue eyes darting from side to side.

Noah dried his hands with a towel before throwing it in the laundry.

Peter put the pen in his mouth, looking down at the clipboard.

He had met Noah Simmons at the beginning of the school year not too long ago. Noah went to a school known for sports, not too far from Midtown and they had spent everyday, Monday through Friday's, running Mr. Delmar's store from 12-3pm. He was new and Peter wasn't. So he worked at the back while Peter ran the counter.

"That's everything." Peter mumbled, glancing at Noah, and registering how odd they both looked in their white and green striped shirts and dark green aprons. "I'll just finish wiping stuff down...you can go now if you want, I know you've got English homework."

"Really, Peter?" Noah said, pushing his glasses up his face. "Thank you so much."

He shuffled back into the storage room to change, his trainers making a squeaky sound on the floor. Peter looked up at the clock again, then began to wipe the counter faster.

"Oh shit, it's today!" Noah called out.

"What?" Peter laughed. "Oh...oh...yeah, it's today."

"No way bro, that's amazing!" Noah exclaimed, emerging from the storage room in a plain blue shirt and his jeans, and his school bag draped over his arm. "When is she back?"

"Uh..." Peter stammered, still concentrating on what he was cleaning. "Ned's coming to get me in a bit and then I'm gonna go pick her up after-"

"Awww." Noah laughed, punching Peter playfully in the ribs.

"Shut up." Peter smiled, chucking his dirty cloth at Noah.

Noah caught it, before opening his mouth to taunt Peter further.

"Any plans for tonight?"

"Just...dinner...I don't know, Noah...leave." Peter said.

"I'm going, I'm going." Noah replied, making a successful throw into the laundry, before walking up to the door. "See you tomorrow Pete."

Pete.

Peter had never really ever been called that by anyone before except Ned, and he had hated it when Noah has first said the name, but had recently grown to hate it less.