There were few things as awful as working after school on a Friday, even if you had the most "pathetic excuse of a social life known to mankind," according to your little sister – your little freshman sister who had a boyfriend and more friends than you had in all of your life.
William Birkin took a deep breath and held it for a second before exhaling again. Social anxiety was getting the better of him, and there was always a doubt filling his thoughts of why he even applied for a job that involved dealing with people nearly constantly. After checking the schedule last week, there was a slight celebration for William – Annette, his ex-girlfriend who he still sort of had a thing for, and that one old lady who constantly spoke to him about everything possible, weren't working. Score one for Birkin. But, there was that new employee – the one that William was being forced to train in today.
He wasn't looking forward to it, to say the least.
Umbrella – the locally ran and operated joint convenience store and pharmacy in Raccoon City – was one of the few places that actually offered part-time jobs to students at a rate above minimum wage. They only hired "over-achiever" students and, as far as Birkin was concerned, they were pretty much in the bed of the staff of Raccoon High. He didn't complain - his boss had gotten the good word from his principal, and he had ended up with a half-decent job.
A job with demanding and occasional night hours – but a job.
William had heard a couple of things about this new employee through the grapevine – she was a girl, and she was in his grade. Potentially, this was a blessing (that one time he trained in an old man had been a disaster) or a curse (it was a girl who he potentially had embarrassed himself in front of.) He sighed, rather heavily.
Quickly, he checked his hair for any fly-aways in the glass door of the pharmacy, and smoothed it out before swinging open the door. Having high-tailed it from school to work, there was no way he wasn't at least ten minutes earlier than he should have been.
Morpheus – an odd man with an odd hair colour that matched his odd name – was supposed to be working until three, but Birkin told him to go home. It was sort of a ritual within Umbrella – if you come in early, let whoever else go early, too. Besides, it's not like quarter to three was a prime hour – the convenience store barely even had a prime hour, to be honest. It got busy sometimes, but it was rarely too active for more than two cashiers to be on at once. The spare cashier wouldn't even come in until five, anyway.
There was a pale yellow post-it note left next to the cash register that was never there before – not to William's knowledge, anyway. There were a couple of other post-it notes here and there, too, but they were mostly little reminders of if something was owed to a customer, or what to do if error thirty-seven appeared on the debit machine.
However, this one was specifically addressed to William – which really looked more like 'Wellean' in his boss' sloppy handwriting. Supposing it was about the new girl, he read it, only to quickly slam his bottled water down over it immediately thereafter, causing a pen to roll to the floor.
Firstly, they were expecting a call from some man about something mundane that William hadn't cared enough to pick up on.
Secondly, the new cashier was Alexia Ashford – the new girl in, literally, all of his classes.
William swore under his breath.
On more than one occasion, he had found her staring (or glaring) at him or Albert from across the classroom. That was weird enough. But then there was the constant competition he sensed from her – if he raised his hand for an answer, hers would shoot up milliseconds afterwards. She had joined most of the clubs he was in – and, weirdly enough, she was even assigned the locker next to him. He couldn't say he hated it, but it was starting to unnerve him slightly.
And she was so bizarrely confident! The way she dressed, the way she acted, the way she spoke in class. She had a majestic air about her, and her brother was just as stuck up. Of course, they were related to Edward Ashford – the man who poured so much money into Raccoon, they gave him the damn job as principal. They were just too perfect.
Turning around, he checked the spare copy of the employee schedule behind him – above the calendar, and next to the tacky portrait of his boss. He was on until eleven – no big surprise there.
This was going to be a long evening.
Claire Redfield was, as always, home before her elder brother. Unfortunately, that left her to what the Redfield clan called snack duty – and today, that meant ordering pizza. While not the worst chef in the world, there was little doubt that everyone would rather eat a pizza than her cooking – while Claire would rather order a pizza than actually prepare something.
Dialling the all too familiar number, Claire grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Impressively, she hadn't even twisted the cap off of it before someone picked up – and, even more impressively, someone else was through the door before Claire could even order the usual extra-large with pepperoni and pineapple. There seemed to be hushed whispers coming from the porch, but her hearing was impaired by the other voice on the end of the telephone.
Glancing from the kitchen to the porch, she waved in whoever was there without even bothering to check who they were. "It's for Redfield, 45 Bayliss," she said in a politer voice than what she used in normal conversation – what Chris called her telephone voice. "Thanks!" Hanging up, she turned to see Leon Kennedy and Ada Wong.
She smiled slightly, happy to see Leon, but not the other.
It was a well-known fact within their social circle that both Chris and Claire weren't Ada's biggest fans. To be honest, very few people were fans of Ada – except for Leon, and maybe a couple of other guys who thought they had a shot with her (Luis Sera came to mind.) Ada and Albert Wesker had an odd relationship, too – no one was really sure if they were friends or enemies; Claire doubted if they even knew themselves.
"Chris is late?" Leon chimed in with a bit of a smirk, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table. Ada remained standing, choosing to lean with her back against the wall, her constant neutral expression plastered across her face.
"What else?" Claire answered back, grinning. "You know how he is."
The door chimed again, and Carlos Oliveira held the door open for Sheva Alomar, who he whispered something inaudible to, only for her to shake her head. She entered the kitchen quicker than anyone possibly ever did, and Claire bit her tongue to keep from telling him to knock it off – there was no denying Carlos had hit on Sheva, or made a similar out of hand comment.
But, that was Carlos. Sort of a dick, but he was a funny guy who tended to be selfless when he was needed the most. Definitely not a bad guy, but he needed to learn how to shut his mouth – the only girl who knew how to deal with his awkward flirtation was Jill. The way she was able to shrug or laugh his comments off, sometimes even respond back in a way that put pick-up artists to shame – it was believable (to Claire, anyway) that something had happened between the two in the past. She didn't ask Jill if she was right, and honestly, she didn't really want to know.
The only people missing from their group were Chris and Jill, and it wouldn't be unlikely if they showed up with someone else – maybe Piers Nivans or Rebecca Chambers, possibly even Albert Wesker. It certainly was an option, as they were just too friendly not to extend an invitation to come over to anyone who happened to talk to them. It was rare for Claire to mind – except for when Albert Wesker would be trailing behind Chris. There was something about him (and the majority of his friends that weren't also her friends) that she found simply off-putting.
And there was that one time he had a bit too much whiskey and hit on her, only to insult her brother mere seconds after. She kicked him out, even though her brother had protested.
That was the basis of her dislike.
There was a lack of conversation between the whole group. Carlos had tried to break it a couple of times, but the silence seemed like it had settled in permanently. Sheva and Leon had their phones out, while Carlos tapped his fingers on the counter. Claire finally opened her bottle of water that she forgot about, while Ada looked at the window across from her. The blinds were closed.
The presence of Ada – a rare one – was what Claire placed the blame on mentally, but she refused to say anything out loud. When her brother and Jill showed up, everything would be fine again, hopefully. Chris just had that mood around him – able to cheer up everyone, and make the stupidest of topics more interesting. At least, it seemed that way to Claire – and she wasn't sure if it was just her sisterly bias, or if it was actually just the way Chris was.
"Hey, does anyone have their notes from Biology with Spencer? I kind of skipped..." Carlos joked with a shrug and a slight grin.
"How does one 'kind of' skip? Were you half there?" Nearly everything Leon said was sarcastic as of late, and this was no exception. His comment drew a half-smirk from Ada, who dug through her bag to find a bright red binder, which she threw lightly at Carlos.
"Eh, I skipped, then." Carlos responded, catching Ada's binder. "Thanks, by the way." He nodded at Ada, before opening the binder and taking a picture of her notes with his phone. It made a shutter noise, and Carlos got up to give the binder back.
"I figured," Leon said with a knowing look. "It's not even the second week of school, man."
Carlos shrugged, but kept his all too familiar smile on his face. "I'll catch up."
Chris and Jill took their time as they sauntered up the street. Chris had insisted on walking so slowly: "at least then, we won't have to wait for anyone, right?" Not that they ever had a problem with that – for as long as Jill and Chris were friends, Chris was always the last person to show up, anywhere. The only exception was if Chris had to bring Claire, who always insisted on getting there before everyone else.
Jill was the type who didn't really care. She got there when she got there, and if that was late, it was late. Though, she sided with Claire on being early most of the time – it seemed like a simply better idea: when people waited for her, she felt awful.
"You know, I think I caught Wesker glaring at you at least three times today," Jill giggled and nudged Chris. "He just doesn't stop."
Chris nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "I don't believe you."
Shaking her head, Jill laughed a little more. "No, really! It's like it's intensified over the summer." Ever since middle school, Wesker had glared at pretty much everyone – lately, he only seemed to be permanently pissed-off at Chris. It was sort of odd – there was no real reason for it, surely – Chris was always on good terms with Wesker, but there was always the possibility it was simply Wesker being Wesker: crooked.
"Maybe he wants to talk to you?" She suggested with a shrug. "He was always so weird."
Chris shrugged, too. Wesker and his friendship was always a touchy subject, and Jill and Claire were the two people Chris felt comfortable talking to about it. Chris and Wesker fell out more often than the sun rose, and there was rarely ever a real reason why. They'd fight over stupid things all the time, but still find their way back to talking to each other.
About to say something, Chris was interrupted by a yell and pounding foot-steps behind him. "Hey! Wait!" The voice was out of breath, probably having ran from a distance. Chris and Jill looked at each other in confusion, and both turned around – a recognizable camouflage pants-wearing redhead was running towards them, a bag slung over his shoulder.
"You left this," he announced, after catching his breath. "It fell out of your bag or pocket, I think." Reaching into his left pocket, he pulled out a silver iPod classic, complete with white earphones.
Chris's eyes widened and he gratefully took it from the redhead. "Christ. Thanks, I didn't even realize." Chris, despite his best interests, had a way of leaving stuff around when he shouldn't. It wasn't the first time he had lost something of monetary value in school – but, it was the first time it was returned.
Steve nodded. "Don't worry about it, man. I figured I'd get it to you." His chest fell up and down, clearly still out of breath. There was no way he was used to running, or any sort of physical activity, for that matter.
"Steve, right?" Jill said, and the kid nodded. "You wouldn't mind coming back to his place, would you? There's a bunch of people coming over, it'd be nice if you came." She glanced at Chris, who shrugged.
Clearly surprised, Steve nodded. "Oh, man, I'd love to, I guess. Um... is it really okay?" He asked, apprehensively, only to grin when the other two nodded.
Thankfully, Claire found herself in the midst of conversation about the adventures that her friends had gotten into while skipping school. Carlos had the most interesting stories, but Ada had even told a few interesting ones – like one time she left the one class she had with Jack Krauser after a harsh fight to avoid him, only to run into him skipping off to avoid her. Claire didn't really blame either of them, but she laughed, regardless.
The pizza was already there, and the greasy food had seemed to lift everyone's spirits significantly. Everyone was even sat around the table, which was much more welcoming than the past set-up.
Carlos was in the middle of a story about the time he skipped off in an attempt to go to Westwood Theatre with some girl, who Claire was positive didn't exist, when he was interrupted by the bell chime of the security alarm that sounded whenever a door opened. There was Chris, Jill, and ... some guy, who they quickly introduced as Steve Burnside. He was a junior, which was quite a surprise to everyone in the room – Steve looked like he was barely in high school, let alone on his second last year of it.
After a while, the inevitable question of what to do came up, and they found themselves voting between going to the local mall or going to see some stupid flick. The movie won by a whole vote, after Chris texted Piers and asked him if he wanted to show up. Jokingly, he told him he could only come if he came with a vehicle – and Piers obliged, as usual. The boy was sort of like Chris' right-hand man.
Piers came with his parents' car, and Chris drove the Redfield family's jeep. Before leaving, they decided on the movie that had a poster which was the first on the left wall, which ended up being some lame action film with more boobs and bombs than plot. The popcorn wasn't even great – too buttery, and kind of cold.
It definitely wasn't worth the price of admission, but it was something to do.
Leon had requested that everyone came to Luis Sera's house party at nine-thirty – mostly everyone agreed (Steve declined – feeling it'd be too awkward for him to show), and Carlos had promised to get them some booze. He claimed to be able to buy it himself, but no one quite believed it – sure, he looked older than seventeen, but he didn't look like he was legal age. He shrugged them off, but promised that he'd have everyone's favourite alcoholic beverage of choice – and their change – by nine o'clock. Piers was assigned designated driver of the Redfield jeep afterwards – as usual, considering he opted out of drinking nearly all of the time. They all left in high spirits.
[ A/N: Wow, look at me updating after almost six months... I hope people are still in interested in this, maybe? Anyway, I hope this was better than the first chapter... Seriously though, six months... Reviews are welcome btw! ]
