Honeydew

Chapter 1: Too Early

5am, absolutely ridiculous. It should be illegal to be up before the sun has even considered being awake.

I groan, externally, eyes closed, palms pressed against my eyelids. I debate rubbing them, rubbing away the burn, and somehow the knowledge of that being harmful to my eyeballs didn’t stop me from doing it.

They continued to burn regardless.

I had work at six. The boutique was ten minutes away. It was 5:11 now. How in the hell had it been over ten minutes.

Shit.

I groan again but force myself to my feet regardless.

I could traverse my bedroom the way I usually did, tripping over random pillows or blankets, maybe even step into a puddle of paint that hadn’t quite dried, but should I really risk face planting back into my bed? No. No I shouldn’t, because if I did, I’d sleep, and if I slept, I wouldn’t be waking back up until well past noon and that would make me both very late and very fired.

The light in my bathroom was blinding, bright enough for me to hiss and turn away like a vampire hiding from the sun. My hair wasn’t in better condition. In fact, my fried retinas and my free forming hair shared something, chaotically not following instructions. My eyes continued to burn and my hair continued to not care that I was trying to brush it. I look at my toothbrush, really debating if I cared enough to scrub the remnants of the following day off my teeth. I hadn’t brushed them last night. My head was too heavy, my legs felt like lead, and to be honest, I didn’t care to.

I cave. Two minutes. What was two minutes?

Turns out it was a lot. Where had the time gone and how in the hell was it already 5:30? Had I stared at my face that long? Maybe.

My hair wasn’t cooperating, my eyes still felt like they had personally befriended bleach, and did I have any clean underwear?

Laundry. Right. I meant to do laundry yesterday. Oh well.

I dig in the top drawer of my artsy, ancient dresser: socks unmatched, a strapless bra that I had never worn, a random carry size pack of tissues, and at the very back, a singular pair of underwear, the kind you only wear when you’re bleeding enough to flood the parking lot of a small convenience store. They weren’t cute, they didn’t feel comfortable, and I couldn’t remember how long I had had them but I put them on anyways, they were clean and that’s what I needed. Clean. Who cares if they had pink and blue polka dots and the band was stretched out and they sported a slight red stain from a particularly heavy flow. No one was going to see them. No one would know. I’d do laundry when I got home, toss these in the trash when I had some other clean ones and then debate why I had made that decision in a week or two when I was out of underwear again.

Eh, that’s a problem for future me.

Right now, my focus was not being late.

The lights were still off in my room. I was practically going in blind, relying on the ambient light that trickled in from the open bathroom door.

My closet was abysmal at best. There were more hangers empty then there were full and I clearly hadn’t bother folding my jeans if the ones that were crumpled in my clean laundry basket from three weeks ago said anything about lack of motivation.

They were wrinkled, I had no idea what they actually looked like, but they were pants, and pants were good. I don’t want to get arrested for indecent exposure.

Baggy jeans, baggy sweater, hair in a rats nest of a bun on top of my head and a pair of slightly stained yellow converse. Perfect. The added touch, two gold rings and a gold bracelet Idris had gotten me for my last couple of birthdays. I never went without them.

5:48, yikes, I had to get going.

I drag my backpack with me as I walk out of my apartment, phone tucked safely in my back pocket and keys jingling as I yank them from my door and hop down the five flights of stairs to the baby blue SUV that I’d had since I was sixteen.

It was cold, my hands were pink, and my car wasn’t granted the time to warm up.

Chipped Boutique; baggy clothes, shoes that no one likes, way too much fringe, lamp shades that look half a century old, and pottery. That was my favorite part. Pottery; mugs, plates, bowls, vases, you name it, we got it. Made in house. Perfection.

6:01, Kathy was already here. The lights were on inside, that neon green ‘OPEN’ sign made me cringe, and the jingle of the bell greeted me as I walked in.

“Good morning, Honeydew!” Kathy was always chipper in the mornings. Her sky blue eyes contained the vibrancy of a thousand stars and her smile was always wide and welcoming.

“Morning boss lady,” I laugh softly, watching her grin.

“How you feeling about putting out some new products for me?” She was opening the register, setting it up for the day. Her long nails clicked against the screen, drawing my eyes to her hands.

Kathy was an eccentric woman, hints the eccentric store. Her nails were long, gemmed, stiletto, and hot pink. The bracelets on her wrist clinked together violently with every move and the jingle of her ear rings moved in cadence with the click of her neon yellow stiletto heels.

“Whatever you need,” I hum, hiking my bag over my shoulder as I clock in.

“Great! Let me show you!”

Kathy did not prepare me. I didn’t know that when she said she had new items that she meant that she was pretty much replacing every clothing and shoe item in the entire store.

There were so many clothes leaving that I’d moved racks outside with their new half priced tags.

The boutique was more chaotic than usual.

My phone pings softly in my pocket as I fold up a neon yellow pair of underwear.

Morning, Honey - Idris

I smile softly, clicking my nails against the screen for a moment before messaging back.

Morning, Grump - Honeydew

See you in 30 - Idris

I furrow my brows, puckering my lips. Was it already almost noon? I look up at the peacock clock on the wall, 11:25.

I smile.

As per usual, he was always on time.

See you in 30 :) - Honeydew

I pocket my phone, still smiling softly.

Idris had been my best friend for literally forever. We grew up together. His name was my first word, his hand was one of the first I held; Idris and I were inseparable, always had been.

There was a time when my feeling grew for him, transcending that of friendship, but I wouldn’t allow those feelings to ruin what we had as friends. Confronting those feelings meant risking losing him, and I wouldn’t take that chance.

“I think they’re folded,” I stiffen before relaxing almost instantly, the deep gravel of his voice settling in my chest.

I turn, smiling softly.

“You’d be surprised how particular Kathy can be about her panties,” I grin up at him.

“Yikes,” the left side of his lips lift slightly. “ I brought your favorite.” He motions to the plastic bag at his side.

“Thank you! I’ll go let Kathy know that I’m going on lunch.”

“Hurry back, Honey,” he sends me a teasing wink before heading back outside.