Looking Down

Oliver smacked his mate’s shoulder. “Matt, yeh git, I said stop. ‘m gettin’ us some booze.”

Matt Kean rolled his eyes and made an extremely sharp u-turn, which made Oli topple over out of his seat. This earned Matt another smack to the shoulder. “Well! Yeh shoula ‘ad yer seat belt on! Wha’ the bloodeh ‘ell, do yeh think they made ‘em fer?!” his mate scolded him.

As Oliver re-gained his composure (which consisted of fussing about his now-messed-up hair and fixing it), he crawled out of passenger side of the yellow-tinted van. It used to be white, but being Bring Me the Horizon’s first tour “bus” it had been to hell and back. Oliver made sure to slam the rusted yellow door shut, as a sort of curse to Matt for his reckless driving. Matt’s middle finger flung up along with a “’urry up!”. Oliver’s middle finger shot up in return.

He pulled open the door, making sure to read if it said ‘Push’ or ‘Pull’, for he’d had a few problems with that before. He swiftly and quickly moved passed a few people. One was at the desk, battling the cashier for lottery tickets, another ten years old and looking to steal a caked snack. Oli watched the child slip it into his pocket, then another. He scoffed and shook his head as he stared at the alcohol before him. So many choices. He shrugged it off and grabbed a twenty-four pack of the cheapest beer. He wasn’t a fan of it, but at least it’d put the ever-saving alcohol into his system. Oliver made his way to the line, large pack of cardboard and poison in hand. He watched the person that stood before him approached the counter. He asked for a pack of Marlboro Light cigarettes- Oli couldn’t help but hear so. He also couldn’t help to say, “Tha’s bad fer yeh, yeh know tha’?”

The guy turned, messy, brown hair swinging into his eye. He was no taller than Oli, in fact, a few inches shorter. The boy slid the hair from between his finger back to the side of his head. He eyed Oliver, glancing a little longer at his pack of alcohol. “So is that,” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips, then turning back to the cashier.

Oli grinned and adjusted his weight to both feet. “Fair ‘nough,” he said. Not often did someone talk back to Oliver. Either they shrugged it off, or pretended not to hear him. This didn’t surprise Oliver in the least, but only kept him interested. The other kid didn’t seem interested in one bit, so Oli had to keep his attention. The boy pulled out his wallet and handed the husky man his I.D. - his fake I.D. The cashier raised an eyebrow as he looked at it, then him. He shook his head. “Christofer? You’re too young, boy, on you go.”

Christofer’s expression turned sour. “What do you mean? It says I’m twenty-one right on my card.” Oli watched them both, then pulled his wallet out. He dug around for ten more dollars, then grinned as thirty resided in the black leather. “’m buyin’ ‘em fer ‘im,” Oli said, slapping down the ten. He slid the box on the table as well. The cashier raised an eyebrow, but who was he to say no? He rang up both the items, speaking a total of “Twenty-eight dollars and eight cents.” Oli handed over the twenty, then a thirty. The cashier handed him a dollar and ninety-two cents. Oli quickly slipped that in his pocket to turn to Christofer. Christofer looked at him, eyeing him suspiciously, but thankfully. “Come on, then,” Oliver said, walking from the store.

They both stood on the pavement, away from the door but near a window, clad with a Subway advertisement and a special on their newest sandwich. Christofer took the pack from him, pursing his lips, then saying a small thank you. Oliver nodded as a sort of ‘You’re welcome’ and took a step away. “Wait!” Christofer called out. Oliver stopped, then turned, waiting to hear what he had to say. “Well… I gotta pay you back.”

Oli chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’ worreh ‘bou’ it, yeh?” Christofer frowned, then pulled one out from the pack. He pressed it between his lips, then lit it. He thought about giving some sob story of how he’d meant to quit ages back, but he hadn’t. He wasn’t going to bore Oliver upon their first meeting.

Oliver turned again to walk away. Christofer stopped him yet again. “See you some other time?” he asked.

He grinned, “Do yeh think yeh will?”

Christofer’s smirk returned before he shook his head. “Well, thanks for the smokes, anyway.”

Oliver nodded before continuing along. He hopped up into the van’s passenger seat again. Matt raised an eyebrow at him. “Take long enough, yeh?” Oli made a face and stuck his tongue out.

“Yeh, well, I got booze, meh mate. We’re gettin’ smashed tehnight.”