Perhaps I can use this to my advantage, she ponders. A social experiment. An undercover journey into the realm of high school popularity; test subject 01 Steve ' The Hair ' Harrington. Shit, what else am I gonna do this summer.
The days are a blur, the summer rolling into one monotonous cycle of eat, sleep, Scoops A Hoy and sadly, repeat. It wasn't her first summer job of choice, but the pay was somewhat decent and as her mother enthusiastically added, she could work on her ' people skills '
As fortune favours the bold, the cherry on the cake was being paired up on the shop floor with a fellow classmate. She knew Steve, who didn't? But she didn't actually know Steve. Her opinion of him was unsavoury, bitter, a tang of jealousy.
But this is the reality. You're stuck in this stupid uniform in this stupid job with the stupidest person that goes to Hawkins High, might as well make the most of it.
It's a Saturday, not yet noon. The mall hums quietly, the town not quite awake except for a flurry of bright neon colours that walk by the store - housewives looking more like traffic lights than mothers as they speed towards an aerobics class.
She watches her coworker silently, analysing the way his hair sits over his forehead into a delicate array of voluminous swoops. She's gotta give him credit. It's impressive. How long does that take in the morning she wonders.
❝ Hey, Harrington ❞ The words fall mundanely from her cherry stained lips. ❝ As a fellow pioneer on this exhilarating adventure of discovering ones career path, what was it exactly that drew you to the ice cream industry? ❞ words pour out with genuine interest, almost admiration for his choice in occupation.
Oh this is going to be fun.