“Hi,” I say with a little wave.
Tahnee gives me a once over. “You didn't tell me she was such a hottie either, Jo-Jo.” She leans on the counter and wiggles her eyebrows. “Hey. How you doin'?”
“Don't call me that,” Jolene says. “And stop flirting with her. You're as bad as Edgar.”
“Oh no, was he in here earlier?” Tahnee asks me with a chuckle.
“He was.”
“Well, don't worry.” Tahnee pushes up from the counter. “I was just joking around. I like meat in my taco, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh geez, will you stop talking like that in here,” Jolene chastises while shaking her head and walking away. But you can see that she's thoroughly entertained by it all.
I find myself laughing. “Yes. I think I know what you mean.”
“Good, 'cause I can already tell we're going to be friends.” Tahnee tosses a piece of paper in front of me. “Here's my number. Text me when you get a chance. Then I'll have yours, and we can hang out sometime.”
I've never had a genuine friend before, but I can tell from this small interaction that Tahnee definitely seems to be genuine and sweet, if not a little wild. And I like how upfront she seems to be. Not like my old “friends”.
“Okay. Sure, that sounds good.”
“Talk later.” She gives a small wave and then bounds out the door.
Shortly after my new friend Tahnee leaves, I'm still smiling when a man walks through the door and goes straight for the rack closest to the check-out counter that holds all of your last-minute grabs. He's attractive in an older man type of way. I'd say he's about ten to fifteen years older than me, maybe even more, but very fit and healthy-looking.
When he places a single pack of gum in front of me, his brown eyes land on my face, and then they just stay there. He doesn't look away as I scan the gum, making me feel somewhat uncomfortable. I've had plenty of people stare and watch me intently before. It comes with the territory of having “celebrity” parents. But there's something about the way he's doing it that seems odd, like he's studying or scrutinizing me or something, but not in a curious way. It feels almost slimy. He only looks away after I've told him the amount, and that's just so that he can pull out a dollar bill from his wallet.
“What's your name?” he asks as he hands me the money.
This time when I look at him, he's wearing a slight smile that gives off a completely different feeling than what I got from him a moment ago. The previous look is completely wiped off his face, which has me wondering if it wasn't all in my imagination.
I hesitantly answer, “Remi. I just moved here.”
“Is that right? Well, it's nice to meet you, Remi.”
“It's nice to meet you, too.” I return his now friendly smile with my own. “And what's your name?”
“Grant. Grant Hubick.”
“Nice to meet you, Grant.” I hand him the gum – which seems kind of weird to be the only thing to come in here for – and then offer another friendly smile. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You, too, Remi.”
The way he says my name and then holds my gaze a beat too long has those same weird feelings that I first had, returning. I'll have to remember to ask Jolene about what his story is. Maybe there is something that will easily explain the oddness. He walks through the door and then does one final look over his shoulder and a head-nod goodbye.
Once he's out of sight, it finally occurs to me that maybe he's seen my picture in a magazine or on the news at some point, and that's why he was looking at me like that. The realization has me wanting to slap my forehead at being such an idiot.
This place may be small and quiet, but it doesn't mean that they don't follow any type of entertainment or business news. They're not living under a rock.
I just hope that my whereabouts doesn't somehow make it back to my father. I don't think it will, but the thought is always there, lingering at the very back of my mind. It has me quickly scanning the magazines to see if there is any mention of anything in them, but thankfully there isn't.
A few minutes later, Jolene pokes her head around the end of the last aisle. “I'm just going to be restocking these veggies. If you're feeling comfortable, you can refill those drinks into the fridge.” She bobs her head toward the line of fridges along the wall.
“Sure, no problem.”
The afternoon continues on at a steady pace, and in between serving customers, I restock the fridge. It's not exactly thrilling work, but it keeps me busy and I enjoy chatting with my fellow townspeople. This is precisely what I was hoping for.
About an hour before my shift ends, an influx of people enter, keeping me stuck on check-out, and Jolene even has to come and help out at the second cash register opposite me until the line has gone down.