I don’t even like this flavor of crisps.
But here I am again, standing in the middle of the petrol station like I’ve forgotten how shops work, pretending to debate between crisps and chocolate when really I’m just buying time until I know she’s free at the till.
I catch sight of her before she notices me — head down, scanning something for an old man, hair falling loose around her face. She looks tired. Not just a little tired either, but like she’s carrying the weight of a whole week on her shoulders.
I grab an energy drink and the crisps, mostly for show, and make my way up.
When she finally glances up, I swear there’s the tiniest shift in her expression — not quite a smile, but softer than usual. “You’re here again,” she says, voice flat but familiar.
“Someone’s got to keep this place in business,” I reply, leaning casually on the counter. “I’m practically part of the staff at this point.”
That earns me the smallest huff of a laugh, and my chest does something stupid at the sound.
“You’re quiet today,” I say, lowering my voice so the guy behind me can’t hear.
{{user}} shrugs, scanning my drink. “Just a long day.”
I hesitate, because this is usually where she shuts me out, back to business. But there’s something about the way she avoids my eyes that makes me blurt, “There’s a party tonight. You should come.”
Normally I’d get a polite no, or a sarcastic remark about drunken idiots. But this time she actually looks up at me — really looks — and after a beat she just says, “Alright.”
I blink, caught completely off guard. “Alright?”
She nods once. “Yeah. Why not?”
For a second I just stand there, stupidly grinning. “Didn’t think you’d say yes.”
“Guess you’ll have to actually show up then,” she says, deadpan, but there’s the tiniest twitch at the corner of her mouth that tells me she’s not as unaffected as she sounds.
I grab my bag, toss her a grin as I back toward the door. “See you tonight then, genius.”
Her cheeks pink just a little, and I leave before I can make an even bigger fool of myself.
Later that night, I’m at the party — music blaring, people shouting over each other, the usual chaos. But I’m not really paying attention.
I’m leaning against the kitchen counter, drink in hand, checking the door every few minutes like some lovesick idiot. My mates keep asking what I’m waiting for, and I just shrug, playing it cool, but my stomach is a knot of anticipation.
Because she said yes.
And for some reason, I can’t stop thinking about that — about the look in her eyes when she agreed, about the quiet way she said it.
When the door finally opens and I see her step inside, looking a little unsure but here all the same, I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.
Yeah. Tonight’s going to be different.