Chapter 17: Ice-cream

A few days later, Aunty Lin sent me and Cara to the corner store to buy some milk and a dessert of our choice for after dinner. We were walking down the dreary sidewalk and, for once, Cara didn't have her phone. Further, I realised I didn't have my earphones in.

Not that it makes much of a difference, I reflected, since we're both acting the same as we would be even with our electronics.

Silently, I shot a few glances her way, but her boots determinedly marched forward with a disinterested pace, and her face betrayed uninterest in anything and everything. Quietly, I wondered what mood she was actually in. It was hard to tell, and I wanted to be prepared if she decided it was a 'freak' day instead of a 'cold shoulder' day. Suddenly, I decided. Why should I be wary of her mood? That's her business. If she wants to be unfriendly, that's her problem.
I matched her stride, marching on as if I were unconcerned also. It felt good. Normally, I tried not to be noticed, to be talked to or distracted from the task of keeping control. Now, it didn't matter if people noticed me or not.

The dirty city streets passed beneath my battered sneakers and her clunky boots quickly, and soon we had arrived at the corner store. It's neon sign glowed faintly as evening set in proclaiming Klark's Basics. One of the windows was taped with duct tape, obviously hiding the cracks in the glass. It was small and didn't stock much more than essentials, junk food and cigarettes but it was closer and more convenient than the supermarket when it came to a shortage of milk. Aunty Lin wouldn't have sent the boys since this isn't exactly a good neighbourhood, but it wasn't dark when we'd left and the chant of "ice-cream, ice-cream" reluctantly convinced her to send us on a quick trip.
Quickly grabbing the milk, I asked Cara what dessert she wanted. I was partial to the vanilla ice-creams which were covered in a shell of raspberry-flavoured icy pole. But I was feeling generous, and Cara had good taste in dessert anyway.

"I don't really care; pick what you want." She said shortly, obviously unbothered. She blew a stray hair out of her face and back into the chin-length hair-do she re-dyed a sullen black every few months. She looked more grumpy than usual, and I decided to let it go, shrugging and heading towards the freezers. She grabbed the milk off me and headed towards the counter, obviously intending to start the process of paying.

I had just taken the ice-creams I wanted out of the freezer when I heard a raised voice.

"Everyone on the ground! I have a gun, so don't try anything!"

I froze, still reaching into the freezer and my heart filled with dread. Quietly leaving the ice-creams and closing the freezer, I crouched down, making myself as small a target as possible. Fear seemed to loom as tall as the shelves that hid me. Suddenly, I heard a yelp, and then a familiar voice.

Cara

"Please, you don't need to hurt anyone, just take what you want and go." The voice was familiar, but the tone was not. Cara sounded scared, and that was something I didn't want to think about.

Crawling forward, I made it to the end of the aisle and peeked out at the scene in front of the counter. An involuntary shiver ran down me as I passed soft over the cold tiles. Looking through a stack of blue-green detergent, I take in what's happening.

Cara was on the ground as well as a few others who'd been at the front of the store when the robber attacked. The man himself didn't actually look very manly, more like a very tall boy. He wore a black ski mask, a black hoody and khaki pants, but what drew my eye was the small handgun he carried in his left hand. It sent a shiver down my spine, but what actually worried me was Cara's proximity to the whole thing. She was right behind the masked man with the other customers who were kneeling on the ground, and people with guns, as everyone knew, were liable to do stupid things.
As much as Cara sometimes confused me, and was rude to me, I don't actually hate her.

Barry's words came back to me, "I guess I just have to be brave. Because I'm not really doing it for me, I'm doing it for everyone else."

I want to be brave.

Author's Note:

Bwahahahahahaaaaa! I feel powerful! I have created a cliffhanger!

...as a reader I feel bad, but how else can I create genuine tension? (feel free to tell me your ideas for other ways) I mean, it's pretty alarming when a guy with a gun tries to rob the store in which you went to get ice-cream and milk. Did it work? Please tell me how to improve! I'm a starving artist! Feed me! Just kidding :) But seriously, feedback is much appreciated. I especially hope Juliet's character development is realistic and believable.

Trix

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