THEN AGAIN • TC ✔️

6. Entrance Fee

"So you never actually told me how fucking hot your date was," Timmy remarks, pushing their shopping cart along one of the aisles of the hardware store. (He's not quite sure why they picked up a cart by the front door when they're only here to buy a mug tree that the store might not even stock, but.)

"You're not stealing him from me," Clem retorts, trailing her hand down a rack of pin tacks and picking up some paperclips. She chucks them back onto the pile with the others.

"I just said he was hot," Timmy tells her innocently. "So how's it...going with him?" he asks, one brow quirked up in an expression that could maybe, possibly be interpreted as suggestive. Maybe.

"Oh my God, you're disgusting," she laughs, and he grins, holding up his hands by his head.

"Just curious, I swear," he says.

"You're so fucking weird," she laughs again, then lowers her voice. "And no, we haven't- we haven't fucked," she says, her voice tapering off at the end into a whisper. Timmy raises his brows.

"Interesting," he says slowly, smiling like he knows something that Clem doesn't.

"Pervert," she remarks, eyes scanning the rows and rows of binders, and Timmy doesn't know why they're in the stationary section if they're supposed to be buying a mug tree. He rolls his eyes.

"Don't say that, you'll get me fired," Timmy hisses. Pushes past her with the trolley and rounds the corner into the kitchenware aisle, Clem giggling as she follows behind him.

She puts a bowl into the trolley, which is looking otherwise decidedly empty. "One of your ones has a chip in it," she explains, and Timmy nods. Pulls on his scarf so that it's tighter around his neck, because he's standing right under a vent and it's blowing cold air onto his head.

They find a mug tree, and Clem picks the grey one. Timmy's not sure if she's just picking it because he said so yesterday, not sure if she's just doing it to placate his boring-ness, so he says they should get the red one. She looks at him weirdly.

"But our kitchen's grey, Tim."

He shrugs nonchalantly. Watches as she puts it into the trolley.

Grey looks better, anyway.

They get to the till and Timmy knows why the guy behind the desk creeps Clem out a bit. Because he's old but not old enough to be sweet, and his eyes are squinty and he always looks slightly suspicious. She pays for their meagre purchases while Timmy stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Clem bursts out into laughter when they get outside and Timmy laughs too, not quite sure why he's supposed to be laughing. "Your face!" she giggles, and he chuckles nervously.

"What about it?" Timmy asks, still smiling but feeling a little fluttery.

Clem looks over at him as she lifts up the trunk of the car and deposits their mug tree and bowl into the back. Shakes her head, smiling. Says, "don't worry," and that makes Timmy worried.

"I don't get it," he says, and she shakes her head again. Pats his shoulder and makes her way to the driver's seat.

"Crumble when we get back?" she asks as Timmy slides into the passenger side of his car, buckling his seatbelt.

"Fuck yeah," he whoops, and Clem turns to look at him. Laughs again with that same look on her face, and Timmy can't quite work out what it is.

"Okay, then. Crumble when we get back," she nods. "Out of a nice new bowl."

"Wait, how come you get the nice new bowl?" Timmy squints at her, tilting his head away from the window.

"I bought it," she supplies.