Pushing the Boundaries

Stella leans forward against the counter, breathing through her mouth as the intense summer heat fills the truck stop and makes her sweat. She groans, disgusted at the heat and disgusted at her own sweat, even though it’s out of her control.

At least out here she can convince herself she’s alone.

The government doesn’t keep as sharp of an eye out here in this tiny town outside of Phoenix; there’s never any suspicious behavior since the population is low and everyone just passes through. The customers at the stop are pretty much just a bunch of old, fat men filling up their gas tanks and replenishing their supply of Fritos and Coca-Cola. Her boss tells her it’s the only store in the country without a camera surrounding the area. Of course there’s one right on the cash register-that’s the law- but as for the rest of it, nothing. Stella figures they must’ve overlooked it.

The bell on the door rings and she looks up to see a man come in. She remembers seeing him just the day before wearing those same clothes. It takes her a minute to develop the energy to stand straight up, and it kicks in just in time for when he walks over and stands in front of her. He places a large water bottle and candy bar on the counter. She scans it routinely.

“$3.15,” she says.

She looks up and sees his face for the first time, and she’s surprised to find him actually attractive. He’s got stubble along his jaw line and dirty blonde hair. He smiles at her and he takes his wallet out of his pocket. He takes a five-dollar bill out and hands it to her. When she turns to the register to get his change, he shakes his head.

“Keep the change.”

She looks at him with a small smile, a courtesy she’d never bestowed upon another customer. Then again, she’s never had a customer bestow her with any sort of courtesy in any sense of the word.

“Have a good day, sir.”

“James,” he corrects her, sticking his hand out to her. Stella’s eyes flicker to the camera before clearing her throat, keeping her hands on the counter. He ignores her rejection though, and keeps his hand out.

“I’m not going to touch you,” she says, her voice firm.

“It’s polite, though.”

Her eyebrows furrow together in confusion. She glances at the camera’s general direction once again before leaning forward, in case the place was bugged with a microphone somewhere. “Not here. Have you not been paying attention?”

James laughs lightheartedly, reaching forward to take his things. “I’m sorry, I’m not from around here.”

“You sound American. You trying to tell me there are places here that… do that? And they haven’t been caught yet?”

He walks backwards toward the door and there’s a smile on his face. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment though.

“You haven’t been caught. Who’s to say you’re the only one?”

He slips out the door then, leaving her to stand there dumbfounded with her mouth wide open.

The next few hours pass quickly and as soon as her shift ends she’s quick to leave, walking to her small apartment that’s more like a shack than anything else. It’s less than a mile away from her work and she’s thankful to have found the small patch that the government hasn’t discovered. She isn’t sure how it’s possible, but she’s never questioned it before.

The complex is made up of a few apartments, but nothing major. The tan-painted walls and shingle rooftop helps the place blend into the scenery. As soon as she’s inside she makes an A-line to the shower, where she stands under the cold water. The past few summers have been hot, but not like this. This is blistering heat that she’s absolutely loathing. However, she’ll exchange some discomfort in order to have some privacy.

She’ll do anything for privacy.