the omaha boy • [s.w]

chapter 3 • the mall

The Bad Thing by Arctic Monkeys starts blaring, jerking me awake. I check the time; it's eleven thirty, and I need to hit up the mall today.

I hop into the shower for about forty five minutes, braiding my wet hair so that it'll be wavy when I take it out. I do my usual makeup routine; foundation, blush, lips, eyebrows, and mascara.

I open my now full closet and pick out a red sweater and a black high waisted skirt. Since it's cold, I put some black pantyhose on before my black and white converse.

I wrap a choker around my neck, which has a little sun dangling in the front, then take my braid out, which is now dry. I put in some hair products before grabbing my car keys and heading down stairs.

I leave a note for my mom and walk outside, hurrying to my Jeep Wrangler to escape the cold. As much as I actually like it here, I'd prefer the heat of Miami.

Traffic is easy on me, and I make it to the mall in fifteen minutes. I'm glad to see its not crowded. Omaha must not be a busy town, because in Miami, going to a mall on a Saturday is like going into a mosh pit. Or a rave, depending on the deals.

I hit up my favorite stores first, Zumies and Pink, quickly discovering that Omaha is a lot cheaper than Miami.

My stomach growls as I check the time; 12:30 PM. Time to scout out the food court.

I see a Chik-fil-a and quickly order, sitting at a random empty table. A few minutes later, I see an unusually cute group of guys walk in and sit down a short distance away. I try not to stare.

Despite myself, I still stare. They all look around my age. One boy has nicely quiffed blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes, and he's laughing at something the tall brunette with remarkably symmetrical eyebrows said. The other two boys are eating rather than engaging in he conversation. One of them, the other brunette, smiles, showing off his five o'clock shadow covered dimples. I can't make out his tattoos from here, but I can definitely make out that they're all hot.

Finally, I check out the last boy, who's easily the cutest out of the four. He has sandy blonde hair and a gorgeous smile, completed with these adorable dimples.

The cute one meets my gaze, and I notice his eyes are a lovely hazel before realizing that he caught me staring. I blush and look down at my phone in my lap.

I'm scrolling through Pintrest when a random french fry hits me in the face.

One of the boys comes up to me. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I was aiming for the trash."

"You hit it." I smile sarcastically.

He looks taken aback by me response. "Here, um, let me make it up to you. I can-"

"It's fine, honestly." I interrupt. "It was kinda funny." I start laughing.

He looks so confused, but starts laughing with me. That's when I notice which one he was- the one with the hazel eyes.

"Who are you, anyways?" I ask boldly.

He smiles at my confidence. "Um, I'm Sammy. Those are my friends, Jack, Jack, and Nate."

"Two Jacks? Doesn't that get confusing?"

"Yeah, we just call them by their last names. The brunette is Gilinsky and the blonde is Johnson. And Nate goes by Skate. I'm Sam, or Sammy. Whichever."

"I'm Camryn." I laugh at how flustered he is. "Nice to meet you."

He smiles and shakes my hand, which is probably sweaty. "So, um, do you want to come sit with us? And please, no Mean Girls references."

I giggle. "I'll contain myself, and sure."

I pick up my food - I do t trust trays - and sit down at their table.

"Who's this lovely lady?" One of the Jacks - Johnson? - asks.

"I'm Camryn." I smile, attempting to make a good impression.

"We have a friend named Cameron." The one with the eyebrows (I can't remember his last name) says.

"Dude, she doesn't care." Johnson says. I laugh at the look eyebrow Jack gives him.

"Um, Sammy told me you were both named Jack, and I keep calling you eyebrow Jack." I tell eyebrow Jack. "I know he's Johnson, and that's Skate, and you're...?"

"Gilinsky." I nod. "I'll try to remember that."

"I can't believe you threw a fry at her face, Sam. Nice flirting skills."

"I'm so sorry, Cam. Can I call you Cam?" I nod. "Well, Cam, since I threw a fry at your face, do you think I could make it up to you tomorrow?"

"How? By gracing me with your presence?"

He smiles. "Or gracing me with yours. Frozen Yogurt tomorrow, at one. There's a little fro yo place by Target. You in?"

All of his friends are oh so casually playing with their phones, giving Sam his time with me. But they seem chill, so I agree.

"Great, great. Well can I have your number?"

"Smooth. That's my boy." Skate mumbles.

I give him a cheeky smile. "Sure, Samuel."
He hands me his phone and I put myself in as "fry chick 🍟💁"

After handing him his phone, I throw my stuff away and head for the exit. "Wait, Camryn!" Sam calls, getting my attention.

"Yeah?"

"Are you here alone?"

"Um, yeah, I kinda just moved here."

"Oh? From where?"

"Miami."

"Gotta love Miami. Well, if you're not busy, do you maybe wanna chill with us?"

I shrug. "Got nothing better to do."

So I walk around with them for a bit, and as it turns out, Skate works at Zumiez. I drag Sammy into Abercrombie and Fitch, and he helps me pick out sweaters and new jeans, claiming certain pairs are "swag A-F."

I notice while walking around that I'm getting a lot of dirty looks from other girls, but shrug it off. Naturally, people don't like me, so this is no surprise. Sammy even looking at me is an unusual occurrence in my book.

The guys walk around filming pranks and kiss cams as if it's normal, which makes me laugh.

Hours feel like minutes, and before I know it, it's six thirty. Time flies when I'm with these people.

"Hey guys, I should probably get going."

"Aw, don't go? We're having fun." Sammy frowns adorably.

"Sorry, I gotta."

"Okay, well at least text me, kay?"

"All right. Text me first so I have your number." He does, and soon after, I bid them all goodbye.

But as I'm walking out, I sense a presence next to me, and see all four boys. "You didn't think we weren't gonna walk you out, did you?"

"Such a gent."

We walk to my Wrangler and Jack smiles, pointing to an identical Jeep down the lot. "Nice car."

"Thanks, yours too."

After that, they all walked off, leaving Sam and I alone. "Um, I'll text you the details later, okay?"

"Yeah, cool." I look at my shoes.

"Alright, Camryn. Thanks for a good time."

"Thanks for not being an asshole." He laughs. "See you around."

"See you, beautiful." He walks away.

As I drive home, the boy with the hazel eyes stays on my mind.