Stock Room Blues

The fluorescent lights of FoodMart hummed above me as I stacked papaya in the exotic fruits section. My nametag read 'Hello! I'm Marcus' like anyone actually cared. It was my first real job, and I felt about as natural as a bear trying to ride a bicycle.

'Yo Marcus!' Sarah whispered from the next aisle. She worked here since sophomore year and had somehow made the uniform look intentional instead of tragic. 'Brad from econ is totally staring at you.'

I almost dropped the papaya I was holding. Brad. The guy who sat behind me in third period and smelled like expensive cologne and confidence. 'No he's not,' I whispered back, but my heart did that stupid fluttery thing.

'Swear on my life.' Sarah popped a piece of spinach from the salad bar into her mouth. 'He's been walking past your section three times. That's not a coincidence, bestie.'

My face burned. This was the problem with being fifteen and knowing absolutely nothing about anything – was Brad actually interested, or was this some elaborate prank? Last month, the football team had convinced that poor freshman that the Homecoming dance was actually a costume event. He'd shown up as a hot dog. They'd called him 'Mustard Boy' for the rest of the year.

Just then, Brad materialized at the end of the aisle, looking unfairly good in his varsity jacket. My palms got sweaty against the papaya skin.

'Hey Marcus,' he said, and his voice sounded different than it did in econ – softer somehow. 'I was wondering, are you going to Jordan's party Saturday?'

'I... maybe?' I managed, feeling Sarah practically vibrating with gossip energy beside me.

Brad rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking almost nervous too. 'Well, I'll be there. If you wanted to...' He trailed off, and I swear his cheeks turned pink. 'Anyway, see you in econ.'

As he walked away, Sarah grabbed my arm. 'Did that just happen?!'

But I was still thinking about bears – how even the most powerful creatures have to hibernate sometimes, how growing up is like waking up from winter and realizing you're different than you were before. Maybe I didn't have everything figured out. Maybe Brad's invitation didn't mean anything.

But maybe – just maybe – it was time to find out.

'Help me finish this spinach,' I told Sarah, finally smiling. 'Then we need to find me something to wear to that party.'