I bit my lip. Yeah, I kind of did. Not that I sought them out intentionally, but maybe I was subconsciously searching for a tough guy—one who would help me forget how out of control I felt at times.
“Learn from my mistakes, April. You’re a sweet girl and guys like that will only drag you down. They’ll make you forget you ever aspired to do anything meaningful with your life. Then one day you’ll be crying over the kitchen sink, scraping at a piece of dried macaroni that’s stuck to a plate because the dishes haven’t been washed in two days.”
“Holy smokes, Alexia. You really need a happy pill in the worst way.”
Her fingers dragged through the chunky strands of her blond hair. She styled it short with fashionably long bangs angled over one side of her face. The duality with April was interesting because her appearance was trendy and rockerish, but her personality was anything but. She kept her hair a platinum blond that looked so natural I wasn’t sure it came from a bottle—I’d seen girls born with that hair color before. It was a stunning look. She often wore smoky eyeliner that added an allure to her jaw-dropping hazel eyes, and I would have killed for her flawless complexion. April was as pretty as a pixie but lacked a social life from what I had gathered. Her personality shined at work, but in private conversations, she possessed a shy demeanor.
Maybe shy wasn’t the right word.
Sensitive. I caught onto this because April was clumsy, always bumping into things or stumbling over her feet. When kids made fun of her, she’d laugh it off. It only bothered her when someone our age or older made a joke. Men in particular, but I could relate to that. A few years ago, I stepped in a hole on the street and almost broke my ankle. All I could think about was how embarrassed I was that everyone saw me fall on my face. Never mind the fact I almost ended up in an ambulance. Only later was I mad no one had bothered to help.
April was an introspective girl with a big heart, even if she didn’t have the gift of gab. A bird had once slammed into our shop window and died on the sidewalk. She’d tried to help it, but it was pointless. I’d ended up sending her home when I saw how upset she was. I’d never had any pets, so maybe I just couldn’t relate. But it spoke volumes about her character.
“I’m closing up; are you done restocking the supply?” she asked.
I glanced at a jar of circus peanuts and nodded.
Normally, the black cloud of depression didn’t follow me. I’d learned to embrace life no matter what was thrown my way, but today was one of those off days when rolling with the punches just meant getting beat up.
It usually did at this time of year.
I wiped away my tears and stood up, straightening out the wrinkles in my skirt. I’d been mistaken for a waitress on more than one occasion while wearing our uniform—and that was a compliment. Nobody was impressed when I told them I sold candy for a living, especially not anyone with two kids and a mortgage. My white skirt stopped two inches above my knees, paired with a tight-fitting orange shirt. To top off the ensemble, we wore white aprons and looked like we’d been slaving away in some magical candy kitchen, creating fantastical sugary treats.
We opened a bag and poured candy in a jar. End of story.
Our boss emphasized presentation: perfectly aligned canisters, attractive displays, and a well-groomed staff. He even gave us plastic hairclips to use if we wore our hair up. Cherries, orange slices, or little multicolored candies were our options.
Needless to say, I always wore my hair down.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Alexia?” April asked, touching my shoulder as I walked by.
“I’m outta here,” I announced, grabbing my purse from the drawer behind the register and digging for my keys. “You coming?”
“I’m going to be five more minutes,” she said from behind me. “Go ahead and take off.”
“Okay. Just remember…”
“Yeah?”
A lump formed in my throat. “Just remember you’re taking my shift tomorrow.”
“Will do. Remember you’re taking mine on Saturday,” she sang melodically.
Damn. Saturdays sucked. The store was like a zoo because we were located near a pizza shop, not to mention the movie theater was just a short walk up the street. Parents often dropped their kids off in herds, and telling a bunch of rowdy eleven-year-olds to behave when their moms weren’t around was an exercise in futility.
“I won’t forget,” I replied with a sarcastic smile. “Can’t wait.”
“Liar.”
The silver bell at the entrance jingled as the door closed behind me.
Then the sight of my own damn car made me want to start crying all over again. “What the hell is wrong with you, Lexi? Can’t you keep it together for one day? It’s not even the day and you’re already a hot mess,” I muttered.
“Alexia!” April yelled out. Only my close friends and family called me Lexi, but at work and otherwise, I went by my full name.