ROUGH DRAFT of Loser || WlW

Thirty-Eight

  "Will you tell me what's bothering you?" I beg.

Brittany is leaning on a cart, absentmindedly pushing it down the aisles of the store behind me. She shrugs. "Nothing."

I let out a frustrated groan and slide a few boxes of mac n cheese into the cart before glancing at the grocery list again. My dad's money is crumpled in my pocket. I hate taking his money. I've been buying groceries for the past two years with the money from Papa's Pizza. Now I'm useless.

"So, what made you do it?"

My heart jumps at Brittany's voice. She's finally talking to me.

"Do what?" I ask as I glance down the bread aisle.

"What made you have sex with Grace?"

I look at her, my cheeks flushing red.

She raises her eyebrows at me, waiting for an answer.

"Is that what this is all about?" I shake my head. "Is that why you're so mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you." Her words are quick.

We continue walking, but I can't remember what I'm looking for. Peanut butter maybe? I'm too lost in my thoughts, trying to think of an answer to Brittany's question. "I don't know," I finally say. "I don't know why I had sex with her." I grab a generic brand of white bread and toss it in the cart. "She was already taking my pants off and I didn't know how to say no and..." I stop, take a deep breath. "I just wanted to stop thinking for two seconds."

She sighs. "It's normal. People have sex for bad reasons all the time." She rolls her eyes. "I just wish you would have found someone other than Grace to have that moment with. You know, considering she wrote an article about how you're probably the person who murdered my sister."

I let out a single laugh. "Like who? I'm not exactly being swarmed by women who want to have sex with me."

A smile pulls at Brittany's lips.

"What?" I ask, and push a box of cereal into the cart.

She shakes her head. "Was she good at least?" She asks as she follows me to the dairy section.

"I don't have a lot to compare her to," I answer.

"Well, did you finish?"

"I, um," I shake my head. "I don't know."

"If you don't know, you didn't finish." She shrugs and after a silent beat, she adds, "Guess she's not very good."

"Why do you care?" I ask.

Brittany shakes her head. "You're my friend. I'm worried about you. Hooking up with people is my thing, not yours." She shrugs. "Well, I guess it's not my thing anymore since you won't let me make passionate love to Andrew." She winks at me.

We're both laughing, not paying attention to where we're going when I bump into a display of cookies. A few packages topple to the floor. I'm already kneeling over to pick them up when I notice a middle-aged woman is staring at us, her eyes wide. I feel her glare on my back before I see her. She's holding her cart with one hand and her daughter with the other. The little girl can't be older than six or seven.

I half-smile and look back at the different milk brands before I glance at Brittany who's watching the woman.

Her eyebrows pull together. "Why is she..." Her sentence drops as the woman says something to her daughter in a hushed tone.

"Why?" The little girl's voice echoes down the aisle.

"Shh, just listen to mommy. We need to leave," she snaps. Her voice drops to a whisper but there's no mistaking what she says. "We're not safe here, baby." She pulls the little girl into her arms and abandons the cart, glancing back at us one last time before she hurries from the aisle.

I look at Brittany again. By the look on her face, the realization hits both of us at the same time.

"Oh my god. She thinks I'm a killer." I hang on the edge of the cart, my jaw hanging in disbelief. "Because of Grace's stupid article."

It's unreal. Shame washes over me. I want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Brittany smirks at me.

"Don't say it." I point a finger at her.

"Say what?" She shrugs. "That you chose to bang the woman who's single-handedly ruining your life?"

I roll my eyes and pull the cart with me. "Let's get out of here."

Brittany strolls after me, her heels clicking against the glossy tile.

I'm still lost in thought, obsessing over the woman's reaction when we make it to the check-out lane.

The cashier looks at me with big eyes and flips through some papers before he says, "Um, ma'am. Unfortunately, I can't assist you today."

Brittany squeezes by the cart so she's in front of him and says, "What are you talking about?"

He swallows hard. He's young; probably goes to Jefferson High. His face is speckled with acne and just being in the presence of someone as beautiful as Brittany is making his chubby hands shake. He looks at me instead, his face flushing a deep shade of red. "It's the Hemmetts," he whispers and leans closer to me. "One of them came in yesterday and talked to my manager. When they were done, we were given instruction not to serve you." He turns a stack of papers toward me. One of them has my picture on it with a "Do Not Serve" title.

I'm frozen, still holding the carton of eggs I was about to put on the belt.

"It's for me then," Brittany says, pulling her wallet from her purse.

The kid shakes his head again. "I can't." His voice is barely audible. "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience."

Brittany stares at him a moment. Something in her expression changes and I can feel what's coming next as she bites her bottom lip and leans forward just enough so the cashier can see down her shirt. "What can I do for you to help us out?"

The kid chokes, his eyes glued to her chest. "Um, I, uh."

"No." I shake my head. "No, no, no." I squeeze past the cart and grab her elbow.

She looks at me, a smile playing at her lips.

"No," I say with more force than before. I look at the cashier. "Her eyes are up here, thank you," I say, motioning toward her face as I pull her with me. "It's fine. Thanks for your help."

It's silent as reality sinks in.

"Hey, it's okay," she says, reading my face. "We'll go to a different store."

I shake my head. Kyle's threat is playing on repeat in my mind. He warned me. He told me I had no idea what his family could do. He was right.

"What if he's gone to every store in town?" My voice shakes.

"I love road trips." She smiles; nudges me with her shoulder. "Don't let it get to you."

I sigh. "He's trying to scare me away from the investigation."

"Is it working?" Brittany unlocks her car.

"No." I shake my head. "I'm going to help you find justice for Claire. Even if Kyle has the whole town turn on me."