Nobody’s Fault but Mine

Tristan Russo: He doesn’t like rules, people who get in his way, and those that stomp out his cigarettes. Leah Hanson: She doesn’t like her job, her parents and especially not Tristan Russo. Shame that they’re forced to work together.

- x

.One

- x

“That’ll be thirty-seven dollars and sixty-two cents, ma’am.” I drawled, handing the middle-aged woman her bags. She handed me forty dollars, and I opened the cash and gave her the three dollars and thirty-eight cents I owed her.

“Thanks for shopping at Lucky Mart,” I added, as an after thought, as the woman walked away, armed with four bags.

I hate my job.

Ever gone to a store where the cashier had a fresh, young face, and smiled as they handed you your receipt?

Yeah, that’s not me.

Why should I be friendly and act happy, when this job is the bane of my existence? I would honestly like to throw a cash register at the founder of Lucky Mart.

Why?

Who in their right mind names a drug store Lucky Mart? I mean, seriously, Lucky Mart? It seems all the creativity in this world has vanished forever.

It was my entire fault, really. I should have just failed high school. If I had flunked high school, then I wouldn’t be in college, sustaining myself with a job at Lucky Mart. My parents told me if I succeeded in high school, they would pay for everything when college rolled along…

Filthy liars.

“Leah, part of growing up is learning to be responsible and accepting independence.” My mother had said, as I stared back blankly.

“Which is why we think it would be best if you got a job.” My father had added, beaming.

Yeah, he beamed. He beamed after basically telling his spoiled rotten daughter she would have to forget all dreams of a fun, party-filled year at college.

Yes, failing high school seemed pretty decent right then.

“Leah,” Dave said, snapping me back into reality, “Do you mind taking a minute to train the new employee?”

See, I should have said, “Sure thing Dave, I’ll be right on it!” and plastered a fake, but convincing smile on my face, but instead I said, “New employee?” and let my jaw hang open in a not-so-attractive manner.

“Yes Leah,” Dave said, rolling his eyes, “Make him feel at home here, make sure he knows the place well enough, and show him the basics.”

I followed Dave to his tiny office behind the medicine counter, and peered at the guy who was sitting down, seeming very relaxed and very smug.

“Tristan.” I muttered in acknowledgement, nodding curtly in his direction.

“Oh, this is perfect!” Tristan said, smiling a little too brightly, “I was hoping I would see a familiar face around here!” He stood up; dyed hair hanging in front of blue eyes, and strode towards me.

I resisted the temptation to scowl and smiled back with much false enthusiasm, “Well Tristan, I better show you around!”

“Excellent,” Dave said, smiling, “You’ve already become acquainted. Now, off to work you two.”

As Dave’s office door closed, I turned to scowl at the guy in front of me.

“That was all an act,” I hissed, “You know very well that I can’t stand you.”

Tristan laughed, running a hand through his hair, which had messy blue streaks running through tousled black locks.

“Why do you despise me so, Leah darling?” He drawled, batting his eyelashes.

“Well, Tristan, do you recall that evening at Jason’s party, what, a couple months ago?” I growled.

“No,” He said, grinning broadly.

“Why not?” I bit out.

“Because I was roaring drunk!” He said merrily, grinning like a little child.

“Do you remember talking to me that night?” I asked, frowning.

“Vaguely,” He said, smirking.

“You said: ‘Hey, nice outfit babe, although it would look better in a crumpled heap beside my bed.’” I snarled, disgust dripping from my every word.

Tristan burst into laughter.

“Aw, Leah,” He said, “Were you hurt I didn’t keep up on the offer?”

“Shut up.” I growled, “I don’t like you.”

“Leah, you really are a terrible employee.” He said, “Shouldn’t you be showing me around?”

I scowled.

“I’m going, I’m going.” I said, walking towards the first aisle.

“Oh look at this!” Tristan said, side stepping to the hair dye section, “Leah, do you think I would look good with purple hair?”

“You have got to be kidding me.” I said, “Purple?”

“Well,” He said, “Blue streaks on black looks dashing in my opinion.”

“Get off your high horse,” I said, “It looks terrible, and you sound exactly like my gay cousin when he talks about clothes.”

“Do you have something against gay people, Leah?” Tristan said, feigning hurt. Rumors around campus often debated Tristan’s sexual orientation, but enough drunken parties had proved that he was definitely straight.

“No,” I drawled, rolling my eyes, “If I didn’t like gay people would I talk to my cousin on the phone for hours every other weekend?”

“Fine, you’ve proved your point,” Tristan said, “Now seriously, purple?”

“Your hair is like, fabulous!” I said in an overly girly voice, running my hands through his locks, “What shampoo do you like, use? Your hair is so like, soft and shiny!”

“Head and shoulders, of course,” He said, smirking, “Aren’t you jealous of my fantastic hair, Leah?”

“Your hair is gross,” I lied, “You should just shave it all off.”

Maybe his hair was nicer than any hair I could dream of having, but I would never tell him that, his ego was already inflated enough.

“Leah, stop distracting me!” Tristan said, “We’re supposed to be going through the store!”

“Me? Distracting you? Right.” I muttered.

“Are you saying that I distract you, Leah?” Tristan said, “I knew I was hot, but I didn’t know I was a distraction.”

“Stop talking.” I said, “Just. Stop. Talking.”

“Never!” He said, “Okay, so you like my hair blue and black, but what about my eyebrow piercing? Should I change it for a stud? Or do you like this one the way it is?”

He continued to babble on about his scary fashion choices, as I drowned out his voice with my own monotone instructions about how to work at Lucky Mart.

“Aisle seven,” I continued, “Is where one can find all house hold cleaning products, and all soaps and detergents…”

I turned around to see where Tristan was, only to realize that he had disappeared.

Like I needed another reason to hate my job.