Page 42 of Absolutely Pucked
“Catch you later,” he said, then turned before I could ask if it was actually Ford coming in.
The store was quiet. There wasn’t ever a real rush like most supermarkets, which I appreciated, though I also wasn’t sure how this place stayed in business. Most of the shoppers were geriatric millennial Karens who hadn’t let go of their Posh Spice haircuts, fingers covered in tarnished gold rings, and Gucci handbags with cat claw marks along the sides.
Which I knew was judgmental as fuck, and I had no room to be doing that to anyone. But after the fifteenth sneer I’d gotten as they passed me in the cereal aisle, I kind of wanted to kick them in the backs of the knees and watch them topple over.
Tucker and I used to do that to each other as kids, but thinking about him made my stomach hurt, so I shoved the memory aside and focused back on work.
Checking the time, I realized it was close to my second break, so I set the box to the side and wandered up to the front. Decker had taught me how to clock out, which was helpful, considering there were only twocashiers at the front and no one at the customer service desk.
I tried not to feel their gazes, but they were a heavy weight on me as I made my way to the computer. It wasn’t like they knew who I was…right? They couldn’t? Though it was possible they knew my brother, and I had zero reason to believe Tucker hadn’t told everyone within a hundred-mile radius what a bastard I’d been, so…
Yeah.
I might already be the town pariah. Even with my name badge reading Ian, and even with Tucker’s scars, we were still identical twins.
“Hi.”
I was so lost in thought I hadn’t realized a person had walked up to the counter. My gaze shot up and saw no one. Oh fuck. Was I being haunted by Ford’s not-real ghost?
“Hi.”
The voice was small—obviously a child. I peered over the edge of the counter and looked down to see a very small little girl with wide eyes and long black hair. There was something about her gaze that seemed…different.
“Hello. Can I help you?”
Her eyes went even wider. “Coach T!”
Coach…oh.Oh!“No, kiddo. Sorry. I’m not?—”
“Coach T! I can’t find my mom.” I realized what was going on with her eyes. They were dancing back and forth without any control, which meant she was blind.
“I can help you with that, but I’m not Coach T. My name is Ki—uh. My name is Ian.”
Her nose wrinkled, and she took a step backward, shaking her head. “That’s not nice. I don’t like pranks.” Her chin began to wobble, and she looked on the verge of a hysterical meltdown.
That was the last thing I needed on my first shift. Coming around the counter, I crouched down beside her. “Hey.”
Her head whipped around to face me, her bottom lip between her teeth so hard I thought she might break the skin.
“My name is Ian. I promise I’m not Coach T.”
She swallowed heavily. “You gots legs?”
I shouldn’t laugh. Right? Laughing would send me straight to hell, and it wasn’tfunnyfunny. It was nerves. I took a breath. “I have legs. Do you want to check?”
Her hand shot out, and after a beat, I gently touched her wrist to guide her to my knee. She squeezed hard, then crouched to move her fingers down my calf, then sighed. “Mr. E?”
E? Right. Ee-an. That worked for me. “You want me to help you find your mom?”
“I got lost,” she said. She squared her shoulders suddenly, then said, “My name is Regan, and I have LCA, which means I can only see a little bit of light. That means blind.” It was very obviously a rehearsed script that I had to assume her parents created for this scenario exactly. “Do you know what blind is?”
“I do,” I told her.
“Mmkay.” She hesitated. “Do you see my mom?”
“Were you two shopping here?”
She sniffed. “Um, but there was an ice cream truck so I went outside because I heard the music and then Ididn’t have my cane and then I was stuck so I went inside but I don’t think this is the same place and I’m scared. My mom’s gonna be so mad.”
