by Anders Grey
That was the second time I’d heard him comment on his own community in a negative way.
“You sound like you don’t really like it here,” I said slowly.
Cain’s smile flickered for a second. He chuckled, but it wasn’t a real laugh like before. “What? Of course I do.”
It wasn’t really any of my business so I shrugged. “Okay.”
“I do like living here,” Cain insisted. “But it can be draining sometimes.”
Hearing him say that made my mind veer in a direction it didn’t want to go in–a path towards old scars, old memories I wanted to forget.
“So, what happened to that old grocery store?” I asked.
Cain waved at the smiling gatekeeper in the booth as the barrier was lifted. “Oh, that place got shut down ages ago. But they opened up a Whole Foods a few months after that. Just sucks that it’s outside the community so I can’t go there at 2 AM in my pajamas. Well, I mean, I could, but.”
“How are you supposed to get there if you don’t have a car?” I asked, thinking about how long it had taken us just to drive out of Rosecreek’s gates.
“Why wouldn’t you have a car?”
I frowned. “I don’t have a car.”
“Oh. Sorry, I mean… Well, you lived downtown in the city, right? Of course you wouldn’t need a car there.”
At least he bothered to make up an excuse for me. “Yeah, I did.”
“Wait a second. Were you seriously going to walk all the way to the store and back? That’s like, a two-hour round-trip on foot.”
“It’s not like I have any other way around,” I said curtly.
Cain winced like he’d swallowed something bitter. “Sorry. I didn’t think about that.”
“Didn’t expect you to,” I replied honestly. Why would he when he’d lived in the same cushy mansion since he was born, and probably had everything handed to him on a silver platter? I wondered if he’d even worked a day in his life or just coasted by on his parents’ money.
An awkward silence hung between us until Cain pulled up into the Whole Foods’ massive parking lot.
“Well, here we are,” he said cheerfully, then got out to pop the trunk. “By the way, are you sure just one bag is gonna be enough?”
I didn’t have the guts to tell him I could probably only afford one bag full of groceries. “It should be.”
He quirked a brow. “C’mon, you just moved into a big place.” He grabbed a handful of reusable bags from his trunk, all with graphic designs and fancy insulated interiors. “I’m sure you could stock up the fridge a little.”
“Really, it’s fine.”
Cain shut the trunk and came back over with the bags in hand. “There. I got you covered.”
I sighed and decided not to argue with him about it. We’d fought enough for one day. Right now, I just wanted to get some canned food and go home. Part of me regretted even agreeing to let Cain drive me here and back, but it was the easiest option.
Maybe I should save up for a bike or something.
The air conditioning that blasted my face as I stepped through the automatic doors was a relief after being in the summer sun. It took me a moment to get my bearings in this huge store.
The first thing I noticed with a pang of self-consciousness was that everybody here, including Cain, was much better dressed than me. I’d shown up in a pair of old sneakers, shorts and a black t-shirt with a small paint stain on it. A few people glanced almost nervously in my direction.
Their thoughts were clear enough—I was an outsider here.
I was about to head for the canned food aisle when Cain jogged up next to me, pushing a cart like an excited kid.
“They had little ones, but I got a big one,” he said, dropping his own reusable bags in it. “Even though it probably still won’t be enough to fill your fridge and pantry, if they’re as big as the ones in my house.”
I stared at the cart slack jawed. “Uh, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Why not? You just moved in. You gotta stock up!”
I gritted my teeth. He just didn’t get it, but I wasn’t about to tell him my whole sob story, so I ignored it. Maybe I could lose him in this maze of a store and buy my own groceries out of sight.
“Fine, let’s go,” I said.
Cain veered towards the produce aisle, filling the cart with a healthy variety of fruits and vegetables, half of which I didn’t even recognize. I realized quickly this was a fancy grocery store, which meant the prices must be jacked up. I just hoped my cash would be enough.
“Hey, do you like dragonfruit?” Cain asked as I grabbed a couple of five-for-two fruit leathers that were on sale.
I raised a brow. “What the hell is a dragonfruit?”
He held up a strange pink-and-green thing with tendrils on it that looked more like an object from a sci-fi movie than a fruit.
“Uh,” I said. “I’m gonna go ahead and say no.”
He put his hand on his hip. “Have you ever tried one? It just tastes like diluted kiwi.”
“Then why wouldn’t I just eat a kiwi instead?”
Cain pouted. “Because… it’s a dragonfruit.”
I thought that he almost looked cute for a second, sticking out his lip like that like I’d mortally wounded him with my fruit opinions–but then I realized who I was thinking about and crushed that thought like an ant beneath my heel. I cleared my throat and tossed the fruit leathers in my reusable bag.
“I’m gonna head a few aisles down,” I mumbled. “I’ll meet up with you later.”
Cain nodded, waved me off, and went back to his important task of deciding which of the two exotic fruits to put in the cart.
I found the canned food aisle and cringed when everything was still significantly out of my price range, thanks to all the non-GMO and organic and whatever. Still, I wasn’t about to just starve and since I would never grovel for other people’s handouts again, I stocked up on a couple of the cheapest cans of beans and chickpeas I could afford.
After tallying the total of the things in my bag, I checked it against the cash in my pocket. I grimaced. It was enough, but just barely, and the food wouldn’t last more than a couple days at most. I really needed to take on some new work.
I noticed someone staring at me and raised my head. A frowning woman stood at the opposite end of the aisle, tightly clutching her cart handle. When I met her gaze, she hurried away.
What’s her problem?
The longer I stayed here, the more I hated it. A sense of urgency came over me, and I marched towards the cash register, eager to pay for my shit and leave. I didn’t want Cain to catch up with me with his cart full of exotic, expensive food I had no way of affording. Didn’t he get the hint at breakfast?
Remembering our earlier blow-up irritated me again. I already told him I couldn’t afford traditional art materials, which should have been a big enough clue. Maybe living here in Rosecreek surrounded by constant luxury made him forget that not everybody lived like he did.
“Excuse me, sir.”
A thin, gangly employee who couldn’t be older than sixteen crossed his arms behind me. He wore a frown similar to the woman who stared at me earlier. The air conditioning suddenly felt too cold.
“Uh, yes?” I said.
His eyes flickered down to my bag. “Can I see that?”
Instantly I was on edge, bristling with defiance. “Why?”
“Can I just see it?”
People were staring now. I could practically hear their disapproving, critical voices in my head, all thinking the same thing–that I didn’t belong here. But I didn’t want to cause a scene or be the center of attention any longer. I thrust the bag towards him.
The teen employee searched the bag. When he found nothing but fruit leather and canned food, he squinted but returned the bag to me. “Sir, why aren’t you using a cart like everyone else?”
I blinked in disbelief. Was this brat blaming me for using a reusable bag?
I thou
ght the novelty would have worn off by now, but people were still staring. In fact, a bigger group of people had gathered to rubberneck at the guy getting chewed out by a fucking teenager in the middle of the grocery store.
“Sorry,” I muttered sarcastically. “Won’t do that next time.”
But the teen’s frown deepened at my response and he crossed his arms. “Well, I’m just saying that there’ve been some thefts here recently and we’re supposed to be on the lookout for…”
He trailed off, but the damage was already done. I knew what he was going to say.
Shady people. Thieves.
People who don’t belong here.
I gritted my teeth, furious. It took every ounce of willpower not to throw the bag and all its contents in the kid’s face and storm out of there. I was acutely aware of everyone’s burning gazes on the back of my head, all thinking the same thing. All wanting me gone.
Maybe I was wrong to return. Nothing had changed in ten years. Nobody in Rosecreek wanted me here.
“Hey!”
Cain ran up beside me, wide-eyed. “Johnny?” He furrowed his brow at the teen. “Axel? What’s going on?”
The kid’s arms fell to his side. “Oh, hi, Cain. I was just…”
Cain shot him a disapproving glare. “Just what?”
Axel blinked, like he was confused by Cain’s reaction. “Um, nothing,” he mumbled, lowering his voice. “Just checking out this bag. It’s fine, though. Can I help you with something?”
I saw the way Axel deferred to Cain and wondered how the two knew each other. Then I thought that was silly, because obviously everybody in Rosecreek knew each other. It was like a hive of wasps.
“No, thanks,” Cain said in a clipped tone. “We’ll be going now.”
The crowd dissipated as Cain ushered me to the side and muttered, “What was that about? Why was he bothering you?”
“It’s nothing,” I said, wanting to drop the subject. “How do you know him, anyway?”
“Axel’s my neighbor Cynthia’s kid. He doesn’t actually need this job, but she wants him to learn discipline or something,” he said. “But seriously, what was his problem?”
I winced, glancing away. “It’s fine, all right?”
“Johnny.” Cain grabbed my wrist. “I know he’s just a stupid kid, but if he did something to you, just tell me and I’ll tell his mom to yell at him.”
For a moment I was too stunned at his sudden touch to reply. His hand was unexpectedly soft and warm. That thought spooked me, and I quickly drew away from him.
“He thought I was stealing,” I muttered without meeting Cain’s eyes.
“What?”
I warily glanced at him. Did he believe me, or Axel? He knew I didn’t have any money, didn’t he? Besides that, I’d snuck off on my own. The situation could have easily been twisted against me.
But Cain shook his head. “Ugh, that brat. I’m sorry. People here can be so…” He trailed off with a frustrated grunt. “Whatever. Let’s just go. Let me grab the cart.”
Remembering my paltry handful of cash, I bit my lip. “Wait.”
Cain paused, looking expectantly at me.
Shit.
I had worked my way into a corner now. I could keep lying and let it bite me in the ass in five minutes, creating another scene, or I could tell Cain the truth.
As much as the idea of it made me want to die.
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair, and muttered through gritted teeth, “I can’t afford all that.”
Cain blinked. “Huh?”
“I already told you about this,” I growled, my face heating up with embarrassment. “You obviously forgot.”
His confusion-clouded eyes widened. “Oh. Johnny, wait. I thought you meant…” He came closer and spoke in a low voice. “I thought you meant before the will. Are you telling me your parents didn’t leave you anything besides the house?”
My heart dropped into the cold pit of my stomach. “No.”
I didn’t want to tell him, but when I weighed the options, this was better than the alternative. Walking out of here with a handful of items and scrounged change would be more embarrassing than taking the hit to my pride.
But it was painful.
Cain closed his mouth, his lips tight, then exhaled through his nose. “Okay. How about this? And don’t get mad, okay?”
I frowned, ready to get mad.
“Let me cover this trip for you. Not just what you’re holding, but everything in the cart.”
At first my shock overrode my anger. I couldn’t believe he would offer to do that.
“Why?” I blurted out.
He met my eyes and slowly asked, “Why do I need a reason?”
The words burned in my mind.
Because you ruined my life.
Because you’re the reason I ran away.
Because I hate you.
Because you’re supposed to hate me, too.
“Johnny,” Cain said quietly. “You can be mad, but just say yes. Please.”
I clenched my fists as a mix of hot anger and shame boiled in my gut. But the cool, logical part of my mind knew all I had to do to get out of this situation was to agree.
His blue eyes pleaded with me.
“Fine,” I ground out. “But this will never happen again.”
A relieved smile spread across Cain’s face.
6
Cain
The drive back was unbearably silent. Johnny had clenched his teeth and hadn’t spoken since promising–or threatening–that my act of kindness was a one-time deal.
But that was fine with me. I wasn’t about to let him get scolded in front of all those people, especially by a zitty teen. Nobody in Rosecreek needed to know that Johnathan Hunter, son of the recently deceased Mr. and Mrs. Hunter, could barely afford five cans of soup.
The thought of it aggravated and confused me. I almost hadn’t believed Johnny when he said his parents left him nothing besides the house, but the humiliated and reluctant expression on his face said it all. No money, no savings. Johnny was an only child, as far as I knew, and his parents definitely weren’t the type to donate all their earnings to charity.
Millions of dollars didn’t just disappear. So what the hell was going on? Had they taken the cash to their graves, hoping it would help them in the afterlife? Had they hidden bundles of money around the house in some sadistic treasure hunt?
I wanted to ask Johnny, but judging by his tense posture and the way he glared out the window the whole trip, I figured he didn’t want to talk to me anymore. Again.
Whatever. At least the groceries would last him a week or two so he wouldn’t have to beg at my door like a lost puppy. Not that I would have particularly minded.
As I pulled up the car into Johnny’s driveway to drop off the groceries, I saw my neighbor Cherry at the end of the driveway waving me down. I noticed a parchment white envelope in her hands with a decorative seal.
“Who is that?” Johnny asked.
I approached her, putting on my best smile. “Cherry! How are you?”
“Cain, great!” she replied loudly. “How’s the book business going?”
I wondered how often the neighbors forgot I was an author, and thought I managed a brick and mortar bookstore or something. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Johnny busying himself with the grocery bags and scrunching his shoulders as if he was trying to disappear. He looked about as subtle as a grizzly bear wearing a polka-dot dress.
Before I could reply, Cherry huffed. “Oh my goodness, I’ve had the worst time finding you. I tried your house first, obviously, but your car wasn’t there. Then I saw you driving up the street, but then you pulled into the Hunters’ driveway!” She shot me a confused look, lowering her voice and gesturing to Johnny. “Are you having something delivered? He doesn’t look like one the usual couriers we get around here…”
“Er, no.” I smiled politely. “Johnny lives here, I was just helping him unpack groceries.”
&
nbsp; The confusion was evident on her face. I thanked god Johnny was still turned around so he wouldn’t see her judgmental gaze raking him up and down.
“The Hunters’ son?” Cherry asked me, shielding her mouth the same way Cynthia had earlier. “The one who ran away?”
Irritation gnawed at me. “Yes. He inherited the estate.”
I decided not to mention that he only inherited the estate, and not much else. The gleam of disapproval in her eyes was noticeable enough.
“Well, in any case.” She lightly cleared her throat and pushed back her shoulders. “I’m throwing a party next Saturday, and I wanted to personally invite you to attend.” She handed me the envelope on the emphasized word, and I felt the luxurious thickness of the paper between my fingers.
It was at that moment that Johnny stepped out of the front door to retrieve another round of groceries. He shuffled behind me, avoiding eye contact with Cherry as he picked up as many bags as possible in one trip–which was a lot, thanks to his toned muscles.
I noticed the slight downward tick in Cherry’s lips, and her uncomfortable silence. There had only been one envelope, and it was mine. There was nothing for Johnny.
But before he could disappear into the house again, I said with a bright smile, “Cherry, wouldn’t it be fun if Johnny could attend, too? After all, he is sort of new to the community. This would be a great way for him to settle back in.”
Cherry’s frown didn’t go away. In fact, as I said the words, her face seemed to go pale.
The longer I stood there without an answer, the more my own smile faded. Her silence made her thoughts clear. She didn’t want to invite Johnny, but she didn’t know how to voice it without being rude.
“I, ah,” Cherry finally began, “I don’t have another envelope on me, I’m afraid.”
But now the seed of doubt was planted in me, and I wanted to push the truth out of her. “It’s all right,” I said mildly. “He doesn’t need a formal invite. We can just share mine. Right, Johnny?”
His eyes widened a little. He shot me a look like he didn’t want to be dragged into this. But after all the judgment he’d been through today, I wasn’t going to let it happen again.
