To meet her, I sold my body. I wonder what reaction she would have finding that out? I imagine her face blushing, flattered, maybe she'd peck my cheek once or twice. Or maybe not. Maybe she'd hated that so much that crimson hair strangled my neck out of disgust.
Hm. That's not exactly right either.
Varrie probably won't do anything. Or feel anything. To her, I am no one to praise or kill.
Though I'd like her to know she is someone to me. If I have a thousand of my own bodies, I'd sell every one of them just to make me worthy for her to care about.
No, I didn't have to wager my flesh for sex. Varrie's friends—who I'd be calling the bitch duo starting now, asked for something a little more boring.
That's why I ended up in front of a convenience store.
It is pretty common knowledge that every store has almost if not the same establishment rules. Pay first, is a common one. Toilet's for staff only, is another. And then there's the 'Adult only' rule, applied to purchase certain items.
Being a high schooler student, the bitch duo is restricted from buying cigarettes anywhere legally. That doesn't stop them from smoking. To get some, they had to use fake IDs. Been using it for a long time. Unfortunately, last week, Xiao found out about them.
So now they had to either find another fake IDs or buy cigarettes from another seller selling for an increased price.
As an adult though I'd have no worry about it. If the store clerk suspects me of being underage, I just give him my ID. So I can buy as many cigarettes as I want—they want. The bitch duo know this.
I swing open the glass door. A chime bell welcomed me from a tiny speaker over my head. Cool air pushes the discomfort out of my body. The smell of detergent hits my nose.
As I walk in, my eyes catch a person standing still in front of a colorful display rack. Her head faces up slightly as if looking at the top item. No, she's staring at it. The cookie jar.
I don't usually watch strangers. There was never a need to learn about other people that's not relevant to your life. So there must be a reason why my attention froze the moment I met her.
Maybe because that silver hair reminds me of someone. But there's no way this girl here is one of my students. I seem to remember she's a lot taller—the hair is longer, too.
And she doesn't smile. This girl does. I step to a good angle to check her face. Those grey eyes also look close alike but not the same. She was apathetic, while this girl is a mix of hope and disappointment.
Is she just going to keep at it? The cookie jar up there is a little higher to reach for someone her height, but if she really wanted to she could push her toe up and try grabbing it down. That's one way. Or ask the store clerk for help.
The man behind the counter doesn't seem to pay attention to the store. He would rather drown himself with his phone.
"Six blues," I come over to him.
He snaps out of his trance and turns around to grab six boxes of cigarettes.
"That'd be sixty-six."
I tap my credit card on the pay machine, "Hey, quick question. How long has she been standing there?"
"Oh, her? She comes here once a while."
"To buy cookies?"
"No, never bought anything. She just came here and," he gestures his head to turn to look at her, "yeah."
He continues, "I once asked her if I can help her with anything."
"And?"
He shrugs, "Said I'm not worthy."
The store clerk is more than tall enough to reach the jar. And I don't think his arm would wither by just picking it, too. Maybe she's looking for something else.
"Best not to talk to her," he says. "Silver hair. Bad news."
I've heard that before. Varrie said that about her. Wonder what's all that about? Are they like some sort of killers?
I grab the boxes and walk away from the counter.
My feet stop.
She hears.
The girl who was fixated on the cookie just now, cocks her head, facing in my direction. Her grey eyes rest on my face. The longer I watch them, the deeper I fell.
I approached her hoping I could learn something about my student that also has silver hair. It could either be just a waste of time, or the biggest mistake I've made. Two things that I can afford.
Her lips move.
Smile.
"Hello there."
"Yeah."
…
We stare at each other's faces… for a moment…
And more moments…
"You need help?" I say.
She looks up as if to see her thought, "Maybe, yes."
"If it's the cookie too high for you to reach I could—"
"You smell different," she says, sounding dreamy. I don't think she heard my offer.
I discreetly scent at myself. Smells normal.
"Maybe it's the soap I'm using."
Her tiny nose twitches. Did she just sniff at me? "Are you going to ask if I'm crazy or a drug addict, too?"
"Hmm," she holds her chin as if evaluating something, "You are neither."
Okay…?
This is the weirdest encounter I've ever partaken in. Mind you I've met a creature that can possess human beings and pull people from other dimensions. They seems more normal than talking to this girl.
Her nose moves again.
Can I just step off now?
The girl giggles, "Sorry. You just smell so out of this world I couldn't help myself. Do you want something from me?"
"No, I just feel like you need help with something."
I eye up at the item she has been staring at for god knows how long.
"Hmn," she nods, her silver hair shakes. "I want to buy it."
Once the cookie jar is in her sight again, her eyes brighten a little—though it feels like she's nowhere near happy.
"Are you going to?"
"Can't."
I ask her if it's money that she lacks.
"Have more than enough to buy one. The problem is," she says, puckering her lips, "I can't reach it."
"Want me to help?"
I could have just give it to her, spare myself some few breathe. But based on my experience not every one that seems in need of help, wants to be helped. So if you have a luxury to choose, it is far better to wait and ask them first. Save yourself from a little embarrassment if things don't go as planned.
Her eyes peek at me. Quiet for a while. As if she's deciding. "Yeah," she answers.
So I easily grab the cookie and show it to her.
...
She's not taking it from my hands.
Instead she just sighs in relief… or pleasure? The grey in her eyes sweats. Her face flushes. I have no idea of what I just did.
"You… okay?"
"It felt so real," she put the tip of her fingers on the jar, rubbing it. "I wanted this. Now I can touch it. I can have it. Something is escaping. Yes, that. The despair I felt being not enough to reach it, that is what I'm losing. I'm promised something else to gain. Why am I empty?"
Joy should be what fill someone after despair. But they never came to her. Emotion has abandoned her face.
Now she looks just like her.
"I wonder," her voice seeps out from her teeth, "if I have done it myself, I wonder if it would be different. Do you know?"
Somehow, I know what she's asking. So I answer truthfully. "I don't.
"I can't"
Not anymore.
She only gives me a nod. "You are one sad creature. You'd be needing this more than me."
Her hand pushes the jar into my body. The girl smiles once again. "It is yours now. May it make you a little happier as I thought it would to me."
"Um…"
"Go on, dear Worthy One. Walk out of this place with a smile I've given to you."
"No, you see…"
"What's the matter?"
I look down at the cookie jar. And its price tag. "We need to buy this first."
We go to the counter, putting it on the table to purchase. This is the second time I'm here. The store clerk notices the girl following behind me, and whistles a note as if to applaud.
"How'd you do it?"
"... I have no idea. Think it's about how I smell."
"She likes a smoker maybe."
"Except I don't smoke."
"Then why bought six of them?"
"Those are for the bitch duo."
After all is done, we step outside the store.
The cool air runs back inside, leaving us with a warmer one.
"Boss!"
Shouts a man in a black suit and purple necktie. He hurries to the girl behind me.
"Fuu, fuu…" he pants, "Boss, you can't just leave the car like that!"
"I see no problem with it."
"We were in the middle of the road."
Did she exit out of a moving car? She must be more insane than I thought.
Also... Boss? This petite girl that talks weird, is somehow the boss of a group? Are these people from an anime and manga club? That girl maybe. This dude looks like he's thirty and an ex convict.
After calming down, he stands up straight and notices me. "Boss, get away from that guy he could be working with a rival mob."
"He could?"
"Who are you punk? You with them Garcia?"
The girl jumps a little as if surprised at herself. "You're right. I never asked. What is your name, Worthy One?"
I don't want any more trouble. "... Sunbae. I tutor high school girls."