Oh Comely (Part III)

Toby spends some time in a local 7-11

“Oh Comely”

(Part Three)

 

Since George had taken it upon himself to become completely depressed and withdrawn following Andy Morrow’s funeral, Toby was forced to find ways of entertaining himself (which he wasn’t very good at). However much of a trial this was for him, he couldn’t exactly be upset with George; his friend had just died after all. Still, Toby had no idea what to do with himself in a town where he knew no one and was unfamiliar with the terrain. Finally he just decided to wander around town, in hopes that he would run upon something that would hold his interest: he found this in the local 7-11.

         “Buck-fifteen.” The clerk told him when he approached the counter with his Big Gulp, Mountain Dew slushy. He recognize her immediately as the brash—though strangely alluring—Comely Sprague, who had accosted him in the kitchen of Andy Morrow’s mother’s house, after the funeral. She had a busted lip—no doubt a war wound from her throw-down with Marin Erickson.

         “… I said ‘buck-fifteen’, bambi.” She reiterated, sounding irritated, when Toby didn’t readily present his cash.

         “Oh! Yeah…” He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a bunch of nickels and dimes: Comely shot him a scornful look.

         Every day since, Toby stopped into said 7-11 to more or less loiter around the place, stealing glances at Comely whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. She didn’t recognize him—or at least that’s the way it appeared to Toby. He couldn’t really blame her: after all, she had bigger things on her mind that day, like her dead friend and the beating she took at the hands of that giant, angry, communist girl.

         Comely, however, did come to recognize him after a few days of him coming into the store, milling around, ogling her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, and not purchasing anything. Finally, one day, she decided to speak up.

         “Listen queer bait, either buy something or get the hell out.”

         “Oh… uhh… sorry.” He stuttered, and started to make his way towards the door; but just before stepping out, he asked “So… umm… are you doing anything later tonight? … ‘Cause, uhh… if you’re not… maybe we could, like… I donno—”

         “I’m busy.” She cut him off.

         “Oh… Well, uhh… what about—”

         “Not interested.”

         “But you don’t even know me.” Toby said, sounding a bit hurt by this blatant sort of rejection.

         “Doesn’t matter.” Comely replied. “You wanna f**k me, right?”

         “What?”

         “Yes or no.”

         “… But I just met—”

         “Exactly, you don’t know anything about me.”

         “… But I’m trying to get to know you right now and—”

         “Listen kid, I’m just not interested. My ex-boyfriend just blew his brains out and I’m kinda still in the grieving process… ya dig?”

         “… Yeah… I ‘dig’.”

         “Besides, I don’t date teenagers.”

         “… I’m twenty years old.”

         “Sure ya are, bambi. Now get the hell outta here before I decided to bust a cap.”

 

[end]