He worked at the corner store. He worked there for as long as I’d known him. He was only 17 years old but had been working there for 6 years already- working his way up from sweeping around the aisles to being the top cashier. He took pride in his hard work and effort. If he wasn’t at the store, he was at school, or sleeping in the back when he got the chance. It was a 24-hour convenience store and it’s crazy how he dedicated himself so fully to his job, but he never complained.

He never took anything for granted. He treated each and every customer with the utmost respect even if they didn’t deserve it. There were bikers, prostitutes, hillbillies, elderly, rude women, rude men, gang members, and even pastors. Not one customer was ever turned down or gotten a nose turned up at them.

He spoke to them even if they were crying and usually vise versa. He gave and received advice, compassion, and understanding.

I remember overhearing him a few weeks ago through the door. “You never know who’s going through what.” When being asked as to why he was so polite.

Every day after-school, I passed by the store he worked at, and I’d sit at the bench outside, looking in with a smile on my face. Seeing him just lit up my world.

His dark brown hair came just below his thick eyebrows- maybe even a centimeter more. He wasn’t very tall, only about 5’10 at most, just 3 inches taller than I. His dark brown pupils appeared to turn more of a hazel color in the sunlight, giving them a beautiful shade of green outlined with an almost black. His pale skin contrasted those around him- being the lightest of his “family”.

He was a very thin boy, almost appearing to just be skin and bone- but he looked healthy to say the least. He had long thin legs, long thin arms, and a slim face with the plushest lips I’d ever seen in my life.

I admired him from afar until once I had to go in on my own. I was nervous- shaking even. I felt as if I’d known him for so long, but in reality I’d never been less than 10 foot away from him. I only had to go in for paper towels and a box of macaroni, but it felt like I was going through with mission impossible. I’d never stepped foot into the place before, but I figured- how hard could it be to find paper towels and macaroni within 10 aisles?

Apparently it was pretty difficult. I got lost within 15 minutes, but that probably had to do with the fact that I was avoiding him. I tried my hardest not to come into contact with him while looking for what I needed, but apparently I wasn’t capable of multitasking, so I ended up looking for him instead of paper towels and macaroni. With a sigh, I stopped myself, and taking a few seconds to think.

Just find the paper towels.

I took a deep breath, walking down the back strip of store and looking at the aisle headings one by one. It was the 9th aisle, and on the list of content read ‘Paper Products’. Bingo. I kept my head to the side, looking at the shelves until bam- I ran into someone “Oh. S-Sorry.” I heard from a quiet voice, belonging to a boy and- I looked up, coming into contact with his blushing face and dark hair, oh he looked so cute I felt my face heat up and I hadn’t even said I was sorry yet. “Don-don’t worry about it!” I smiled nervously “It- I- I wasn’t paying attention. Sorry..” I looked back down again, avoiding his gaze.

“Hey, you’re that girl who sits outside every day.”

My eyes widened. Wait.. he- he saw me? How? I never came inside.. I.. What?
“Oh.. Y-yeah..” I nodded, still not daring to look up.

“I’ve seen you a couple times.” I could hear a faint chuckle. “I guess this is my way of properly saying ‘hello’.” I looked up at him once I felt myself cool down.

“Hi.” I smiled quickly, holding my hand out to shake his.

He grinned happily, showing a pair of beautifully white teeth. “Hello.” He repeated, immediately going red in the face. “Wait, I-I’m sorry, I already said that..” I could tell he was laughing from nervousness. “What would your name happen to be?”

“It’s okay.” I smiled again, giving a small nod. “I- I don’t really know.” I lied. Of course I had a name, but I hated it. I hated hearing it, and letting others know it. I often remained nameless, you’d say. I noticed his eyebrows knit in confusion, but he spoke not another word of it.

“Well.. My shift’s almost over.. So.. If-if you want to go somewhere and get coffee or something.. That-That would be fun, right?” He genuinely questioned, putting me back a bit.

“You- you want to hang out with me?” I’d never even really hung out with anyone before. I wasn’t sure how to go with it.

“O-Only if you want!” He scratched at the back of his neck. Was he really that nervous talking to me? I wasn’t that special and I wasn’t worth him being nervous. I was the one that should’ve been that nervous, not him, but it appeared as if the roles were being determined opposite.

That afternoon, sitting in the coffee shop cattycornered to the convenience store that the boy dedicated his life in, I learned things I’d never heard from anyone else.

He was an orphan. Both of his parents had died before he was 9 years old; his dad in a car crash and his mother from a drug overdose. He lived with his great-grandpa until a month after he was 11 years old and then he died from a stroke while he was making him breakfast before school. Even his older brother had gone away to America, but on the way back to London, his plane crashed and the older wasn’t one of the survivors.

He had no one.

The family that owned the convenience store took him in allowed him to stay at the store until he could come into contact with another family member. He never did and no one ever showed up. He had no other person to stay with. He begged and begged the man of the family to give him a job even though he was 4 years underage to be legal for one, but with enough begging, it worked. He was allowed to say that he was his son, going by the surname of the family, but every once in a while, it slipped out that his real surname was not what he went by. Nobody really paid attention to it, but I knew.

Despite his troubled life, he still seemed to be so content with his life. He had high hopes of being a dancer and singer in America and learn proper English and become popular and a role model for kids that had problems to assure them that they could get through it if he did, but after the plane crash, he said he didn’t know if the whole America part would work out- but if it came to it, he was willing to even take a boat.

“I’d take boat lessons to drive you there.” I joked, giving him a warm smile. “I could be the best female boat driver in the world, known to give the famous you a way to fulfill his dream.”

“I’d like that.” was all he responded, giving a wide, toothy and gummy smile. I had only been joking, but if I could get him to smile like that, I might have to go through with it.

I couldn’t help but to wonder how someone who’d been through so much could be so happy and smile like that, but hey, he had someone to live with and he met new people every day. I guess having a minimum wage job at a grocery store could cut out being lonely if nothing else.

I never did get the paper towels that day, or even the macaroni, but I did get a new best friend.