Lips Made of Yarn

Brendon remained stoic, barely showing expression or even looking at me. I shot him glaring looks, not entirely knowing where my resentment was coming from.

But, as always, my curiosity got the best of me.
"I don't get it," I said. Brendon tensed at my words. "Your mother wants you to work here so badly, but you seem like you'd rather die than sit here, with me." I added the last part unintentionally, biting my lip after.

Brendon sighed and moved his hands, exasperation on his face. I didn't pay attention to his hands, instead watching his face grow more and more frustrated with himself.

I pointed to his notebook lying on the counter kindly. Brendon rolled his eyes and grabbed it.
"I sure as hell don't want to be here, but tell that to her. It was either this or staying with her in the house all day and taking care of my siblings.''He wrote. I noticed that when he wrote, Brendon dotted his eyes with more force than necessary, so that the dots were slightly indented.

"Oh, you have siblings?" I asked, Brendon just nodding quickly. Silence followed, and I took to humming a song under my breath.

Hesitating, Brendon took back his notepad and wrote something down. He looked to be hiding a smile when he handed it to me tentatively.
'I wasn't going to say anything, but you should really look in the mirror.'

I patted my head confusedly. Brendon just pointed at the bathroom door, still holding back a smirk. I huffed and got up, trotting to the bathroom.

I gasped when I caught my reflection. My hasty hair styling before had left my hair looking like complete shit, for lack of a better word. My bun was sticking straight up and loose hairs were falling out all over the place. Normally I wouldn't have given a damn, but with Brendon here, I don't want to look like such a lunatic.

"For once, just once, I'd like to look halfway decent." I mumbled to myself. I shook out my bun and tried to pat it down to a decent looking ponytail, but I only halfway managed. Giving up, I trudged back to my stool in front of a register and sat down, folding my arms over my chest. Brendon was smirking and shaking from laughter that couldn't form a sound.

I rolled my eyes pointedly and frowned, not so amused by my less than adequate appearance.
A piece of folded up paper fell on my lap. I opened it, showing none of the accomplishment I was feeling, because I had gotten him to communicate with me.
'It looked as if you'd grown a second, very hairy, head.'
I crumpled it up in anger and threw it at his head, missing miserably. "Oh, so now you want to talk to me."

-x-

The day went relatively slow, only a couple more customers showed before closing. I served them, seeing as Brendon was sitting there giving everyone dirty looks.

Kranger came out his office right before closing, looking tired and disheveled. How he can possibly look like that is beyond me, he doesn't do anything besides sit behind his desk and act important.

"Eh, you're back, kid." he said gruffly, waving a shaking finger in Brendon's direction.
Brendon scowled and clenched his jaw.
"Don't go thinking you can run off anytime you want, we've got rules you know." Kranger kept going, unaware that neither of us gave a damn.

Before he could say something stupid and risk losing Brendon for a second time, I cut him off. "We're running low on...cinnamon."

This was absurd, because there were three unopened bags of cinnamon in the back, but I needed to cut him off somehow. An overstock of cinnamon is better than Kranger insulting Brendon again.

"I'm going to have to order more tomorrow. Anyway, I want you both here an hour earlier to start the monthly inventory, and expect to stay later if you don't finish."

I groaned, resisting the urge to bang my head against the wall. Inventory would take hours, as it usually does. What's the point in knowing exactly how many little red straw we have? These are the times I truly despise Kranger above all else.

Kranger said good night and began to lock up. I tore off my uniform and threw it on the back lounge floor, half wishing that something would happen to it so I would never have to see it again. Brendon folded his neatly and placed it on an empty shelf.

I grabbed my shoulder bag and trudged out the door, Brendon at my elbow.
"See you tomorrow." I mumbled. Brendon nodded and kept walking until he disappeared behind the corner. I sighed and began the long trek home, already set on making my appearance better than a messy bun and smudged makeup for the next day.