The Hunt by Leigh Brookes EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: Leigh Brookes
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
The automatic doors glide shut behind me, forcing me to move further
into the packed grocery store before I trigger their sensor to open again,
drawing unwanted attention. I tuck a stray curl of my bright red hair behind
my ear and out of my face, wishing I had done something with the unruly
mess other than throw it in an equally messy bun. I shuffle my flip-flopped
feet past the check-out lanes and take a basket, intending on grabbing just the
necessities. Maybe some fruit or vegetables. A girl can only survive off of
stale cereal for so long.
Heading down the produce aisle, I eye the bright red strawberries. They
look so good, but the price is beyond my budget with the fruit out of season
and priced so high. I grab an apple instead, a small one.
The modest store is busier than usual for the off season. There are a lot of
familiar faces from locals glancing at me with sad smiles. Shouldn’t everyone
be working? I thought it was Monday, but maybe it’s Sunday. I haven’t been
I wish they would stop looking at me like that. I don’t need pity. It only
makes me want to punch people in the face. I’m not good with people–more
so now than before. I’ve always been the one that kept to herself. No
boyfriends, no partying. My mother always said I had an old soul because I
was never drawn to teenage activities like the other kids in our town. Even
when I graduated and enrolled in college, I chose to stay at home and live
with my mom. Rather than stay out all night at frat parties or giggling in the
Quad with the other boy-crazy girls in my school, I preferred sitting by the
ocean reading a good book or listening to music. Dealing with people was
always something I would avoid when possible.
I clench my jaw and keep moving through the store. The next aisle is
organic food. I head to the snack and cereal aisle because I can’t afford
“Ryan, sweetheart!” Mrs. Callahan, a willowy woman in her fifties, calls to
me from further down the aisle. She has parked her cart in front of the
granola section, blocking any chance of getting around her.
I freeze like a deer in headlights, wishing I could curl up in a ball and have
her pass me by unnoticed. She pouts her lip, abandons her cart, and walks
determinedly over to me. This is what I’m trying to avoid. There’s nowhere
to go. Her soft arms wrap around my short frame, drawing me into a tight
embrace as I awkwardly hold on to my basket.
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry about your mother.” She rubs my back, perfume
wafting over me, while I endure the contact. She finally releases me and I
fight the urge to run away. Great, I’m going to smell like her perfume now.
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