Standalones.

Heather closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She moved the cell phone a bit farther from her ear, the voice still loud, even when she moved it as far away from her ear as she could. She put the cell phone back to her ear and yelled, “I have to go mum; I’ll talk to you later.”

She hung up the phone, not giving her mum any chance to reply. She placed it back into her small, silk clutch. She removed her shirt, placing her clutch down on her bed. She rummaged around her closet to find her uniform. She never liked what she had to wear to work at any of her jobs. This, however, was the worst.

At least, she thought, pulling her shirt on, I don’t have to mop up and anymore. She smiled at the thought, pulling on a pair of worn out yellow converse and walked out of her house, her clutch held tightly in her grasp.

She got into car and drove the seven miles to her work, almost no thoughts going through her mind. She just did her best not to die as she drove. Parking in her usual spot, she jumped out her car and ran into the store. Heather knew she was late, but she didn’t dare think of the trouble she could be in.

She ran over to her usual cashier. The bagger, her friend named Michelle, smiled at her and said, “You’re late. Thanks for coming; I couldn’t stand to be here any longer.” Heather flashed a smile back at her as she walked away.

The cashier looked at her, lightly glaring, but turned away before Heather could catch his eye. Heather didn’t know much about him other than his name: Dexter Cretan. There conversations were minimal, most of them concerning the groceries in which they were bagging.

Silence spread as they waited for someone to come to there isle. It was a slow day and there were very few people in the store. Not enjoying the silence, Heather turned to Dexter and said, “How’s your shift been going?”

Dexter snorted at her comment. He completely ignored her after that, never answering her question. His rudeness annoyed Heather, but she didn’t show it. She smiled brightly and waited. Sometime someone would have to come with groceries. The two of them worked the ‘ten items or less’ isle and it seemed that everyone coming had more than thirty items, at least.

Heather sighed, her smile weakening. “Dexter,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t respond, no matter what she said, “I’ll be right back; I something amazing to drink.” Dexter continued to ignore her, not stopping her like he should of as she left.

She simply walked towards the other side of the store. A Starbucks and resided in the store for a few months. It had almost become a tradition that every time she would work, Heather would go over there and get favourite drink of all time.

There was only one person in the line in front of her. It was a man with dark brown hair and headphones residing in his ears. His hand was tapping against is leg to the music sounding in her ears. He ordered his drink, the man behind the counter rushing as fast as he could to make it.

Once he had the drink, the man turned around. He flashed a smile at Heather, causing her to blush. She didn’t see his face perfectly, but it seemed gorgeous.

She walked up to the counter and said, “Hey Eric, I’ll have the usual.” He smiled at her and made her the same drink he did every time.

Handing it to her, moments later, he said, “I even already added the sugar in. Now tell me, who is your favourite Starbucks person ever?”

Heather smiled. The two of them had had there share of conversations while she waited for her drink. “You are, of course.” She leaned over the counter and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

She returned back to her station, ready to bag anything that came her way. Dexter glared at her again. Heather wasn’t really sure why he didn’t like her, but he didn’t bother worrying about it. She just drank her lemonade iced tea in peace.

Today was the first time since she had worked there that the store had ever been that slow. It surprised her so. The only reason she could up with as to why it was so dead was that everyone in her town was at church, the day being Sunday.

In her small tourist town, everyone went to church. Heather and Michelle were probably the only people that didn’t. It was the perfect place for both of them to live, though. Both of them were aspiring authors and needed peaceful and quiet town.

Half way through her drink, her very first customer arrived.

She didn’t look at the person as he brought his groceries. Heather simply bagged them as they come towards her. “Would you like help out?” she spoke, lifting her head up to see whoever it was.

It was the man that had been in line before her at Starbucks. She could feel her face getting red once more. Despite his ten items of less, the man said, “Of course I would.” He smiled again at her as they made their way out, Heather carrying one of his two bags.

“So, what’s your name?” he asked, not removing his eyes from her.

She looked up from the ground and said, her voice filled with sass, “Heather, just like it says on my nametag.”

The man chuckled. “Well, no offense,” he spoke, trying not to laugh anymore, “your nametag reads ‘Michelle.’ So either you’re lying, or you have a split personality.”

Heather looked down. Her nametag did indeed say ‘Michelle.’ Blush filled her whole face once more. “I must have accidentally grabbed Michelle’s nametag, stupid me. You see” – she took in a deep breath – “Michelle and I like in the same house and both work here, so it’s completely understandable.”

He just laughed again. “If you say so.” He reached his empty hand out and said, “I’m Gabe, by the way.”

Heather used her free hand and placed into his. After briefly shaking, their hands continued locked. They kept walking, hand in hand. It didn’t take them that long to reach his car, even though it was at the very back of the lot.

Once there, Heather couldn’t help but ask, “Not to be rude, but why did you want help out when you bought almost nothing?”

Gabe smirked. Using the hand that was holding hers, he pulled her closer. “I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to talk to a girl as lovely as you.”

Heather looked down to hide how red she was becoming. “Plus,” he added, lifting her head up, “I saw you kiss that Starbucks guy. He looked so happy after that. You must be one hell of a kisser.”

A small giggle escaped Heather’s lips. Being the little flirt she was, Heather whispered, “Why don’t you be the judge?” She then leaned in and kissed him.

The kiss was short, but simply perfect. When they parted, Gabe smiled at her and said, “You’re amazing. You know, that Starbucks kid should have been so much happier after a kiss like that.”

Heather smiled and said, “You’re just saying that.”

Gabe looked shocked at her comment. “And why would I do that?”

Heather thought for a moment, trying to think of something perfect to say. “Because if you didn’t, I could easily hit you in the head with your Gold Slick vodka, knocking you out, and then steal your car.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

Heather raised an eyebrow. “And you know that how?”

“Because anyone who can kiss like that would rather drink the vodka than hit me on the head with it. Simply, because you want me. You know you do.”

Before Heather could make a comeback, Gabe kissed her again. All thoughts of a comeback slipped from her mind. And for once, she didn’t care.