"Well finish the damn job or I won't pay ya salary!"

Yup, that's my summer. Working for that ol' hag. I swear, for someone who most likely lives in a gingerbread candy house, she's pretty sour. I'd bet you that she eats children after she lures them into her sweet tasting home. She's that evil.

"On it," I call as I dash out from behind the counter in the small convenience store.

"Ya better clean that up, boy!" Her wrinkled face shouts.

"I am, ya ol' hag," I whisper mockingly, bending down as I run to the spilled... er, well, something or other.

"What was that, Timothy?" She shrieks back.

"Nothing, Ms. Piedson," I say louder. "Just talking to myself."

"Well get your little delusional butt over here and clean up this mess with the mop. Now!"

I have to get the mop and bucket, then go to the scene of the spill. It's gonna take a few seconds. For some reason, Ms. Piedson does't understand that. Or maybe she's just impatient.

Or both. Yeah, probably both.

By the time I get to the spill, she's steaming. Her face is beat red, and you can practically see the fire bursting out of her ears. Her stringy white-grey hair would probably be charred black and crumpling to the ground if it could. Her eyes are extraordinarily bright, and I swear, even the strongest willed person could never look her in the eye now, no matter how much confidence is piled in their chest.

She's pissed. All this over a little spill.

"I might as well not write'cha a check!" Ms. Pierson shrieks. In my ear. Thanks a lot, Hag.

I drop to my knees and start mopping. It looks weird, but that's howI feel. I should have known what would follow.

"Use a rag if you're gonna slump!"

Not looking up, I hear her dirty sneakers squeaking away. She must've stepped in the liquid mess. Now, I let my gaze linger up. Ms. Pierson is angrily stomping down the aisle, her white t-shirt dirty with grime. She's a disgusting woman.

"Well,"I mutter to myself. I didn't know how to end my statement.

Ding! The bell on the door sang.

A customer. I'm about finished cleaning up the unknown spill. My shift is almost ended, but I still have to man the register.

I sprint over to the register, abandoning the cleaning supplies.

And I feel like hiding inside. In a dark, dark enclosure of something. Because that is better than to be here.

Shane Allen. The biggest jerk at Middleton High that anyone has ever met. I swear, he threw my freshman and sophomore years into oblivion along with his football.

There's only one person who is better at football then him. Edward Richards, who is really cool. Of course, I don't know him, but anyone who doesn't use me as a verbal and/or physical punching bag is a saint.

Fortunately for me, Shane forgot I existed my junior year. We had absolutely no classes last year, which was like God's way of telling me that he is there.

Next thing I know after I find my place at the register, Shane is swaggering on down with a pack of cigarettes. Ugh, I'll have to deal with this now.

"Hey, Nerdy Bird," he calls to me. Surprisingly, none of his cronies are with him. "Fish, Tuck, James!"

I spoke too soon, therefore, I stand corrected.

Three other guys come up behind Shane. Fish is tall, tan, and his eyes are spread just a bit farther than they're supposed to. He's amazing on the swim team, I've heard, but not so amazing when it comes to picking friends. Tuck, or Tucker Cahill, basically a plastic of Shane. Acts exactly the same. Tries to be tough. But he has strawberry blond hair, unlike Shane, who's got slick, jet black hair. So not the exact copy, but pretty close to it.

Now James, the third guy, used to be my friend in sixth grade. Until he met Shane in eighth grade. Now, he's a heart throb amongst the girls. And even some boys, so I've heard. From girls, I heard he's handsome, and "quite a gentleman", too, when he's not around Shane.

Yeah, "handsome", and a horrible friend.

James looks away quickly when I look at him. Whatever, dude.

"Welcome to Food 'n' Stuff Market. What would you like to purchase?" I drone on, my question sounding more like a statement. Ms. Piedson makes everyone say that.

"Haha, he's such a robot!" Shane howls in laughter.

I wait for the laughter to clear.

Shane's smile shifts to a glare. "Hmph. I'd like these. I'd also like to pull your underwear over your head!"

Another round of laughs roll by.

I wait again, my dead gaze as indifferent as I can make it.

"Fine."Shane slaps down the cigarettes on the counter, a hair away from my hand. Continuous laughter as I pull back in surprise.

"Dude! He's so scared!" Tucker howls, clapping Shane on the back and Fish bro-fists Tucker.

"That'll be a dollar eighty five," I say, ignoring their absolutely lame taunts. I know not to give in, especially when they say implausible things like these.

"Hey, that's too much money!" Fish calls out.

"Yeah, we don't want to buy these for one eighty five! Lower the price, you loser!" Tucker says, and I can tell he's trying to act angry for Shane. Pathetic.

"Sorry. I can't. Rules are rules, and," I say. Ms. Piedson makes us say this too, if we have issues with customers, which rarely happens."Prices are prices."

"Yeah, and punishments are punishments," Shane sneers, and his cronies follow suit. He fists his repulsive hand menacingly. I'm trying not to act phased.

Although, I do have to say, my insides are twirling and corkscrewing and dipping down like a crazy roller coaster.

Then, I make a horrible decision.

I shake my feeling, adrenaline is pumping, and I lean on the counter and I reply, "You guys together can't even buy your own pack of cigarettes? Come on, I mean, you're worth half that amount."

Shane's face beats bright red. I know I shouldn't have said that. Him and his cronies begin to circle the counter. I look frantically to James, but he is looking down at the floor as he moves.

"Wanna say that again, Punk ass?" Shane hisses. I try to back up, but there's not much room. He raises his fist and-

Ding!

-another customer; a witness; a savior!

Shane and his cronies move back to see who it is. I crane my neck to see as well. And I hope that they don't turn on them, too.

It's a girl. She's average height, brown wavy hair tied into a low ponytail. She's got about three books under her arm, and a small satchel like bag draped on her shoulders.

I've seen her before, but I can't remember when or where.

They all stare at her for a moment. She ignores us and walks into an aisle. Shane, Fish, and Tucker all turn back around to face me. But then I notice James, who is still gazing in the direction of where the girl went.

My attention snaps back to Shane, who is nearing closer.

"Not today, then," he says harshly. He slips a dollar and four quarters (four quarters? Really? Didn't he go to math class? Must've skipped) on the counter, then swipes the cigarettes. "Come on, guys, let's get out of here."

As they start to leave, the girl makes her way up to the counter. Shane and his cronies ignore her. Except for James, that is. She seems to look over at him first, then he turns his gaze to her, but then he quickly looks away.

Her expression seems to drop and she puts her head down.

Until she sees me.

"Hey,"she says to me.

"Hi,"I reply. She's actually kind of pretty, a soft, gentle looking face, except for the small case of acne going on upon her forehead, and I don't understand why James would keep his eyes on her. I mean, she's definitely not the most beautiful girl at school. Clara McMasters is hot, but she's too into Shane. There's this one girl, Lana, and she's absolutely gorgeous. I don't get why James and Lana aren't together, but he always seemed so scared of girls ...in sixth grade, that is.

Anyways, it seems like this girl can stare right into your soul. Her eyes are so ice blue that I get shivers. But even though I feel like she can see into my soul, it seems like she's not judging me. It's like she's accepting me...

"They're jerks," She says, looking out the window at the four guys leaving. She puts her stuff on the counter.

"Yeah, but there's nothing we can do."

"Well, I don't think all people who hang near Shane the Pain are that bad, y'know?" We both laugh. Shane the Pain. That's a first.

"Like who?" I ask as I check out her things — candy and water. Interesting. 

"Uh, maybe, y'know, like James. He's not that bad. He's actually really nice, if you can get past all the, well, you know."

"Yeah, well, I don't know about James. He still tags along. He can't be himself. He's one of them now, since eighth grade," I tell her. I don't want her to get the wrong idea about him. But how does she know him if she hasn't been to Middleton High school before?

Wait, I don't even know this girl!

"So you go to Middleton High?" I ask her.

"This past year was my first. Do you?"

"Yes. I'm Tim Bird. Rising senior." I widen my eyes when I say senior to make a sarcastic effect.

"Woa,"She says, and leans back just a bit for pretend impact. "I'm ZoeParker, rising junior." She never stops smiling! "Well, I've got to go. Hopefully I'll see you more over the summer!"

"Well, I'll be here. As always." Dumb, dumb, stupid, stupid me!

Zoe giggles and waves as she takes her bag of candy out of the store. She is so cool.

I'm just standing here, worry starting to take over me, thinking about my encounter with Shane. I hope I won't be seeing him for the rest of the summer, even though I probably will.

"Hey, dude." I turn around to see Dan, the guy who takes his shift after me on Thursdays.

"Hey," I say. Dan is about twenty five years old and very overweight, and I don't think he's touched his scruffy brown hair in months.

"Time's up. My turn now," He says to me with a sarcastic smile. I guess we are friends, but right now he seems to be in a bad mood. I can only guess why.

"Bad day?" I ask.

"Yeah, I got in a fight with Ms. PIEDSon.And I dropped my pizza on the ground in my apartment and it happened to fall on my xbox," Dan grumbles.

"You're not the first person today who Ms. Piedson picked a fight with. That old witch should go back to concocting her evil brew in her cauldron," I reply.

"Yeah, well, until tomorrow, see ya around," Dan calls as I turn my back to leave. I wave with my back turned.