My Paper Heart

I sat at the edge of the seat, lacing up my Chucks. The black and white striped laces looked good against the mono black shoe, and silver sharpie scrawlings. I sat back up, and pushed my hair out of my face. Dyed pink hair with mud brown eyes; oh so pretty. I looked beside me to the midget wonder, Darcie, who was putting on mascara while looking in her compact. Currently we were sitting at a red light at seven forty-three in the morning so we could open shop at work, the mall's Wendy's. We were both decked out in the usual Wendy's gear: black pants, comfy shoes, horribly ugly polo shirts, and the classic black Wendy's visor. My shirt was a nasty dark red that clashed with my hair, while Darcie's was an equally horrifying dark purple that was the same hue as cold medicine.

I pushed the gas on my shitty little red truck, and pulled into the mall parking lot. Both of us agreed that waking up this early was a shitty deal, but if we wanted money for the school year, we had to work during the summer.

I parked, and Darcie sighed, pushing her forehead into the cracked plastic dashboard of the truck. It was nothing compared to the sexy black '53 Chevy Darcie usually drove, but with the Chevy in the shop at the hands of her brother -- god help us -- and her license taken away, it was left to me to drive. My brother, Sheridan, wasn't willing to part with his black Geo Storm -- the wannabe sports car, we call it -- so my truck was the only option left.

"Goldie, I don't wanna go to work today. Can you just say I'm sick, or something?" she complained. I gave her a nasty look.

"Like hell I can, if you aren't there one more day you're midget butt is fired, and I am not working there alone with Sadie, so help me god," I said, giving her the look. She nodded silently, and went to playing with the knob on the radio, which was only staying in the dash by our combined will and some duct tape.

I pulled the rearview mirror to an angle to where I could see my hair. It was dyed pink, as stated before, and needed a touch up, as it was fading into my natural hair color, and my dark brunette roots were starting to show. It was wavy, but not lusciously, overly wavy. I sighed, and pushed the long-ish mess out of my face, behind my ears. The new nose stud was swollen and a little red, and I hoped it wasn't infected. The Madonna was on my upper lip to the right, and totally healed, as was my septum. Though most of the stuff on our faces wasn't regulation at anyplace anywhere, we wore it anyway, seeing as how Wendy's couldn't get anyone else to work there for their life.

I sat still and let Darcie do my eyeliner, as I was so retarded I couldn't do it myself. I smiled, put on some mascara, and stepped out of the car. I tied my From First to Last hoodie around my waist, and slammed the car door after getting my keys out of the ignition.

Standing at five foot eight, I was a stick, with what some would call mosquito-bite boobs. Darcie had the same body type, except she was five foot on the dot, and she was more curvaceous than myself. Needless to say, we needed to lay off the fries anyway. You think that being the queens of the deep fryer would put you off of fast food. On the contrary, Darcie and I ate it as if we'd never eaten anything before.

A sea green Geo Tracker pulled up into a parking space across from ours. I leaned against the hood, lighting up two cigarettes, one for me and one for Darcie. We looked at the small little car as a black haired boy jumped out of it, not even opening the door. He dressed like an emo kid today: tight, dark gray corduroy pants, and a tight button up black shirt. A studded belt was looped around his hips, and hung at a funny angle, the buckle resting below the small of his back.

He ruffled his hair, and cracked his back by twisting around on his bony hips. I looked down to Darcie, who took the cigarette and watched him intensely. I swear I saw a little drool fall out of her mouth -- oh wait, no. Niccolo Lucente, better known as the infamous Nick. The Hot Topic employee turned around, saw us having our first cigarette break of the day, and jogged up to us in his black vans.

"Hey sunshine," I said to him. He smiled at me, a bright, happy, warm smile, that was only lit up more by his sparkling green eyes. They were fake, of course, contacts -- his eyes were a hazel color. He gave us each a hug, and kissed Darcie playfully on the lips. She smiled at him, ever the seductress, even in her ugly work outfit. They weren't going out, they were just friends with benefits. If they didn't start going out soon, I'd just about puke.

"So, when you two fatties plan on actually going to work?" he asked, cracking his neck. I shrugged, pulling my ratty black jeans up my hips.

"Whenever we feel like it, dear," I answered smiling at him. Darcie rolled her eyes, pulling her dyed black hair into her right eye, shading it. Her green hazel eyes were rimmed in black liner.

"We're going in as soon as we finish our stinkweeds," she answered, debunking my witty remark. I rolled my eyes, and readjusted my bra, pushing it up so my cleavage could be known. Nick narrowed his eyes, and wagged his finger at me.

"Put a sweater on, cover those up!" he said, just like concerned father.

"What are you gonna do if I don't, dad?" I said, sticking my tongue out at him. He smirked, and started buttoning my polo up. I slapped at his hands, squealing. "Get off, get off, get off, molester!" He let go, frowning.

"I'm only looking out for you against the real molesters," he said bashfully, pawing the cracked asphalt of the ground. I sighed, and stubbed by cigarette out on the bottom of my shoe. It was getting close to eight o'clock, when we had to start opening and cooking, and we still hadn't stopped at Starbucks to scam a coffee or two (or three) out of Noah. Darcie stubbed hers out on the ground. I linked arms with her, and started toward the revolving doors that led us into the mall. She had her visor around her neck, while mine was on a belt loop.

Nick walked beside us, scratching his head. "Get a shower, man!" I said, looking at him and raising a brow. He shrugged.

"I don't have to if I don't want to."

We walked in, through the doors, and smelled the air. We always walked in near the Cinnabon store, so it always smelled good and made us hungry. Starbucks was a few stores down, it being the food court, so we didn't have a long walk to Wendy's, which was diagonally across from said coffee heaven. I dropped Darcie's arm, and walked in, inhaling the scent of fresh ground coffee, and chocolate muffins. I pulled out my wallet, that was conveniently chained to my pants, and pulled out a ten. Nick waved at us from the entrance of the Starbucks. "Sorry, gotta get gone. Vanessa will have my nuts if I'm not there on time!" He left us just as easily. I rolled my eyes, and ordered a coffee and a chocolate muffin, which was the same size as my fist. Darcie got her usual, coffee and marble cake. We paid, and Noah, the aforementioned kid, smiled softly at us, his braces glinting slightly in the dim light of the store.

"Hey guys, how're you?" he asked, ringing us up. I smiled pleasantly back at him, giving him the money.

"We're good, it's too damn early, and we have a new guy coming to work with us."

"Oh joy," Darcie chimed in, tearing off a piece of her marble cake and nibbling at it. I nodded.

"Newbs are no fun at all," I sighed. Noah nodded. At only sixteen, barely even that, he understood what most twenty-eight-year-olds didn’t understand: just nod and say yes. This case was extremely poignant when it came to us. We didn't like being disagreed with, no matter what the occasion. Unless it was in the way of complimenting us, then go right ahead and disagree.

"My older brother's working at Wendy's now. That's where y'all work, right?" he said, looking at us from underneath his red bangs. I nodded.

"So he's our newb?" I asked. He nodded.

"Most probably. He's a real asshole in the morning, but once he wakes up some, he's okay, and a big dork. Uh, he loves motorcycles, so don't get him started on that," he warned. I nodded, and looked at Darcie, who looked as if she could give a flying fart. She played with her eyebrow ring, then her nose ring, twisting then around as she felt fit.

"I guess we should get going," I sighed. "Need to fire up the fryers and grills, and Darcie gets to scrub fat vats." She shuddered at my comment, which I knew would get her attention.

"Okay, cool. If you see a '93 white Camaro in the parking lot, it's Sasha's." He went around back and started brewing coffee. I started the short walk to Wendy's. Darcie finished eating, and went to scrubbing fat vats, all the while grunting and shuddering. I swept up, and cleaned the tables from the night before. I started going over what we were going to do tonight after work. Probably buy a few strawberry wine coolers and get drunk at my house. That's what we usually did anyhow.

A grunt came from the hallway, and I looked up and saw one of the hottest boy I've ever seen. He was hot in the weirdest way possible. His hair was a fiery orange-red that waved at the ends, and draped slightly into his eyes, which were a pure glacial blue that was enough to set my heart pounding -- despite the fact I hated blue eyes. Looking at him took my breath away in the worst of ways. His shirt was scruffy, un-tucked, and held its share of holes. He grunted once more, ruffling his hair in a vain attempt to keep it out of his eyes, that I now noticed were rimmed by black kohl. He had a lip ring in the lower left corner of his lip, and he looked as if he had just come from a concert, dark bags under his eyes.

He smelled opposite to his appearance though; he smelled clean, like Dove soap and aftershave.

"Uh, hi, I'm Sasha," he said, standing in front of me. I looked at him, my mouth open like a stupid fish's. He looked like he could honestly care less about me.

"I'm Goldie," I answered after another stupid second. I hated feeling stupid in front of anybody, especially boys. Especially after my ex-boyfriend Hunter. I just hated how he was all holier than thou with me.

"Nice name, so this is my new place of employment?" he said, almost disappointedly. I almost laughed at how heartbroken he looked. He seemed like the type who would run around trying to be a rock star; maybe he did.

"Yes, you now work at this dump, honey," Darcie informed him bluntly. She promptly went back to scrubbing the fat vat with a sneer on her face. I shrugged apologetically at him, and said, "Yeah, she's right. Welcome to hell." He sighed.

"Oh well, better just get it done with," he said.

"That's the attitude, champ!" Darcie said with a bright smile, which was obviously sarcastic. Sasha laughed bitterly at her, scrunching his nose up, and curling his lips at the corner. "Boy, I am scrubbing fat vats, nothing scares me anymore."

"Except hairy butts, maybe," I offered.

"Yeah, those too." She narrowed her eyes at him as he opened his mouth smiling mischievously. "Don't you even dare," she said. "Plus I'm sure your ass is not hairy, you being as pretty as you are."

"I am pretty, aren't I?" he muttered, looking up into the ceiling tiles, which were water stained and moldy.

"Enough witty banter," I groaned. "C'mon, Princess, let's go find you a shirt." He jumped up and down.

"My name's Princess, my name's Princess!" he squealed. Dear God, Noah was right. Get some coffee in this kid, and he's a real livewire. I didn't find it annoying in the least, which was what worried me. I walked into the employee locker room, and dug around in a box of polo shirts. Sasha looked over my shoulder at what colors there was to be offered. I held up a purple, a red, and a yellow that was the same color as pee. "Pick one, Princess." He looked them over, and settled on the yellow. He yanked off his shirt right in front of me, and put it on.

Now I'm not going to say that I wasn't unimpressed by him -- dear god was I impressed -- but I blushed because of how foreword he was being. He tucked his shirt into the back pocket of his camos, and plucked a visor from the worn cardboard box. He put it on upside down, keeping the hair out of his face. He did a little twirl, and smiled at me. "How do I look? Fabulous?" he asked. I laughed.

"Something like that," I muttered under my breath.

"GOLDIE." The screech was like something out of hell. It hurt my ears even thinking of listening to it. It was harsh, and grated against my eardrums. Sasha looked equally affected, wrinkling his nose and squinting his eyes. I saw his eye twitch, even while squinted.

Sadie Bates, all hellfire and brimstone, stormed into the locker room in her blasphemous pink Chuck Taylors, screeching and hollering at such a high pitch I could barely understand. This was usually how my mornings went.

I really want a wine cooler tonight, I thought as I listened to Sadie scream about every little thing I did. I tried my best to show Sasha what did what, but nothing much was accomplished with Sadie up my ass for most of the day.

***

We began out the mall with a spring in our step, and fake IDs in our hands. We had jacked a large Frostie and a box of nuggets from the store, and we took turns sipping it and nibbling at a nugget or two. Darcie sucked on the stray until she looked like her face would turn blue. "Jesus Christ, you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose, couldn't you?" I said. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded, continuing on our predetermined route to the parking lot and my dumpy little Toyota, where we'd meet Nick and Sasha in Nick's crap-tastic Tracker. We had convinced both of them to come along with us and get shit faced.

My Chucks stamped out their slow, steady beat as I moved, one foot in front of the other, advancing towards the revolving doors. Darcie's vans kept quicker pace, her legs being stubbier than mine, after all. My eyes traveled to the lone figure in front of the store. He held all the dignity of a full diaper that had managed to leak, wearing clothes just a hair above what a hobo would wear - a stained white v-neck, and crappy Wal-mart jeans. I was pretty sure he had a glass eye, but both of them looked like glass as he stared longingly at the girl. The Victoria's Secret poster girl of the month. Yes, it was the infamous Victoria's Secret Pervert.

"Oh my god, you're ravishing me with your eye," I whisper-moaned to Darcie, pretending to be the model in a high nasal voice that sounded like a twit.

"I cannot help it, for you give me a boner in my skid marked panties," Darcie responded, putting on a macho-macho voice pretending to be him. "My eye, lusts after your bosoms." I almost squeaked seeing him looking over his shoulders. I quickened my pace, and scooted right out the revolving doors, simultaneously almost hitting myself in the face and Darcie in her nose. We giggled, and jogged out to the truck, me holding onto the nuggets, and Darcie the Frostie.

When we got to the truck, Nick and Sasha were already there. Nick was hung out the drivers side window, a cigarette between his fingers, and looking like a sad puppy that had gotten kicked too many times. Darcie looked like her heart had melted when she set her eyes upon him.

I looked at Sasha, and examined him more thoroughly. He had a dotting of freckles across his cheekbones and nose, which was slightly bigger than what most people would expect of a "hot" person. His eyes were often squinted, and the skin around them would probably be pink had it not been for his eyeliner. He looked like he would be a piss ant, but he was actually very nice and helpful. I hadn't seen the dorky side that Noah had told me about, but it was probably because I didn't know him that well.

He looked up at the sky, a cigarette limply in his lips, and he looked like he could be contemplating the greatest mysteries in life, or even what he'd eat for dinner. Nick's head popped up, a dopey smile on his features. I could see Darcie melting for him. She was so in love with that boy, it wasn't even funny. She had known him before she had known me - and we had known each other for what felt like forever; basically since seventh grade, which is basically forever.

"Off to the grocery store?!" Nick asked excitedly. I nodded.

"Yup, off to the Food Lion, then to VABC - home of all our alcoholic needs!" Sweet Jesus I love my fake I.D.