A Most Graceful Life Ch. 02

"Yeah, okay," replied Stephen, not knowing what else to say. What do you say to the girl who just rejected you? Even if it was a rejection, she still let him down easy. It's not like he could just get angry with her.

"I'm sorry," she said finally.

"It's okay. I'll see you around," he replied, beginning to retreat back to his aisle.

He never walked so fast back, as he just wanted to move on, and forget the embarrassment he just suffered. Miguel was waiting down near the end of their aisle.

"Well? How'd it go?" He pressed.

"She said no," replied Stephen, hollowly, walking back up to their dolly and getting back to work.

"Oh, that sucks, man," replied Miguel, patting Stephen's back.

"Yeah, it really does," Stephen agreed.

"You going to be okay?"

No, I'm not, thought Stephen.The girl I've had my eye on for the past few months only thinks of me as a friend. I'm a loser with no real friends, and even Abby Cutler wants nothing to with me. What a mess.

"Yeah, I guess," lied Stephen.

"It will be alright. Don't worry about it," advised Miguel. "She doesn't realize what she lost out on. Just think of it like that."

"I should have figured. Why would she go out with someone like me?" Stephen said out loud.

"Come on, man, you can't think of it like that. You gotta have some confidence."

"I'm pretty low on confidence right now."

For once, Miguel said nothing, probably knowing there was nothing else that could be said in that moment. Stephen was content to work in silence for the better part of the shift. The sting of rejection just hurt too much to make him in any mood for conversation, even with his friend.

So they worked mostly in silence for the next hour, stocking shelves, rotating inventory, and facing each product to get their aisle in tip top shape. For a Sunday, it was pretty slow, and around his break time, Stephen looked forward to just escaping for thirty minutes to get a small bite to eat.

Right before break, Miguel broke their casual silence, "Hey man, just to give you a heads up. He's here." He then pointed down a few aisles.

Stephen looked down to where Miguel was pointing.Shit, he thought, when he caught sight of a laughing Ram Doyle.

"Just what I need tonight," he muttered under his breath.

"Maybe he'll leave us alone tonight," said Miguel, looking just as fearful as Stephen felt. He never really escaped Ram's bullying as well.

"I can't deal with that asshole tonight. I'm going on my break. I'll see you in half an hour," said Stephen, crushing his last box and heading back to the

stockroom.

On his way there, he grabbed a cheap lunchable, a protein bar, and a sports drink, and made his way to the break room. Their break room was partitioned off into two parts: one for the non-smokers, and one part for the smokers. You could easily tell the difference between the two sections by the color of the walls. The non-smoking section was a plain white color. Whereas the smoking section was stained yellow.

Sitting down, Stephen ate his small dinner alone, while watching some clips from ESPN on the television. Mostly, he sat and thought. In his mind, he played and then replayed over the earlier scene with Abby.

I just don't get it, he thought to himself.I thought she liked me. He thought about all the times when they would sit and talk to one another, sometimes in this very break room. He even thought about how she would light up when she saw him, which he had mistaken as feelings that didn't exist. While he was still proud of himself for finding the courage to ask her out, he just wished for a different ending.

Perhaps it just wasn't meant to be. He liked to think that he would be a good catch for any girl, but perhaps most of that was just wishful thinking. After all, he wasn't a jock, he wasn't loud and obnoxious, or popular. Guys with traits like those always seemed to have no problem getting girls. Instead, he was quiet, and humble, and intelligent. So why did he have such a hard time getting a girl to be interested in him?

Sitting there alone with his thoughts wasn't make him feel any better, so Stephen ate the last of his lunchable, and after throwing everything out, walked out the door to enter the back stockroom. As he was walking back to the other end of the store, the sound of voices caught him off guard.

"Shh, I'm not supposed to have you back here!" said a high pitched voice. Stephen thought it sounded like a girl's.

"Oh, who gives a shit? What's the worst that could happen?" replied an obviously male voice.

"I could get fired if anyone found us. So be quiet!"

"Okay, chill out!"

Stephen stopped for a moment, trying to locate the direction of the voices. While his brain told him to keep walking and ignore the hushed conversation, his curiosity started to get the better of him. The voices sounded like they were coming from a long abandoned empty corridor in the stockroom. A long time ago, when the store was busier, this corridor used to hold a great portion of their current inventory. Since the store was no longer as busy as back in those old days, this corridor was rarely used anymore.

It was just large enough for some privacy for anyone who wanted to hide out back there. Stephen slowly tiptoed his way back, following the sound of voices. Each successive step brought the octave of those voices up a notch.

"You sure no one comes back here?" asked the man.

"I'm sure. Trust me, I know these things, Ram."

Well, there was the identify of the man. Stephen hesitated to take another step forward, knowing it was Ram Doyle back here. But the female voice sounded so familiar. He just had to know for sure.

"Good to know, babe. You looked so damn sexy today, I couldn't wait any longer," he said in a husky voice.

The girl giggled, but didn't say anything in return, at least anything that Stephen could hear. He kept moving forward, until it felt like they were right around the corner from where he was. He could hear.. something on the other side of the wall. It wasn't until he slowly poked his head around the corner that he could just barely see them.

And in that instant he wished he had ignored them and carried on with his business.

Sure enough, Ram Doyle was leaning up against a stack of empty pallets in the corner. His pants were around his ankles and he was looking down at the girl who was currently blowing him. Her blonde hair was instantly familiar, and Stephen had to suppress a groan when he figured out who it was.

"Damn, Abby, you do that so well," Ram groaned, holding a fistful of her hair.

She took a break, and popped his cock out of her mouth. "I've picked up a few tricks here and there," she replied with a giggle.

"Yeah, you have. Don't stop. Please keep going," he said, forcing his cock deeper into her mouth.

Stephen watched somewhat transfixed as Abby bobbed on Ram's cock. Her mouth suctioned the tip like a professional, while one dainty hand worked the shaft in tandem. By the way Ram's eyes were closed, and coupled with his heavy breathing, he was highly enjoying it.

How could it have come to this? Is this why Abby rejected him? She was already fucking Ram?It all makes sense now, Stephen thought to himself. It was why she knew about his party and so casually invited him. It was why she rejected him like she did. But why of all people did it have to be Ram Doyle? Couldn't she see he was an asshole? Didn't she know what a bully he was to all sorts of people? Most importantly, did she even care?

It made him question her judgment, and the type of person she really was. He had built her up in his mind as some kind of perfect mate, almost close to an angel in his mind. Now, in the face of harsh reality, he was reminded that she was just a human, and an extremely flawed one at that. Especially if she thought Ram Doyle was worthy to hook up with.

Not wanting to watch any more of the display in front of him, Stephen slowly backed up, and carefully retraced his steps towards the main stockroom. He left out of the back exit, returning to his aisle where Miguel was still working.

"Welcome back," greeted Miguel.

"Thanks," replied Stephen, sarcastically.

Only about a minute or two after he got back from work, they heard an announcement over the PA system.

"Stock, we need shopping carts, please."

He and Miguel looked at each other, to figure out whose turn it was.

"Sorry, bud, but it's your turn. I had to go out right when you left for break earlier," said Miguel, giving a cheeky grin.

"Alright. I guess I could use some fresh air anyway," replied Stephen, still trying to shake the scene from the stockroom out of his head.

Stephen made his way back to the front, sneaking past customer service and out into the parking lot. Sure enough, just about all the cart returns were full, necessitating a lot of work bringing them all back. He worked from the closest return to the store, and then worked his way out, hitting the farthest one last. It wasn't until he reached the last cart return that he was approached by an older lady.

"Young man, I noticed there were several carts down the hill right there, into the creek," she stated, using her finger to point towards the nearby gully.

"Oh, thank you, ma'am," replied Stephen, giving an internal groan. Every once in a while, kids would toss carts down the gully, thinking it was great fun to make the workers have to retrieve them. It was always a pain in the ass, because the gully had steep sides, and half the time you would end up falling into the creek. At best, you'd just end up extremely muddy.

Stephen approached the edge of the gully, and sure enough, there were about three different carts stuck in the mud. One of the carts even had what looked to be an old duffel bag stashed inside.Probably used by the homeless, thought Stephen.

Using one of the trees at the top of the gully to stabilize him, he leaned in to grab the first cart, and with his strength, was able to pull it up over the top of the gully and back onto the pavement of the lot.There's one out of three.

The next one was stuck upright into the creek, with only the top portion visible above the waters. He wouldn't be able to reach it entirely from the top of the bank, so he chose careful footing to get down into the mud. With a careful grasp, he was able to pull it out of the creek, and drag it off the bank and back on the pavement.There's two out of three, he thought.

The very last one, the one with the duffel bag, was the furthest away from the top. Picking his careful footing again, he dropped down into the gully to grab it. This time though, his footing gave way under the loose mud, causing him to lose his balance.

"Shit!" He yelled as he went down, with his butt landing firmly in the mud. Shaking his head in anger, he tried to pull himself back up carefully. Once he was finally stabilized, he looked behind him to find his entire rear end mud covered.Damnit, I hate this gully.

Once standing, it was easy to grab the last cart, and bring it up over the hill.Three out of three.

Unfortunately, all three were just as mud covered as he was, and would need a good cleaning before the public could use them again. Not to mention, Stephen wanted to see if he could get some of the mud out of his pants before returning inside. He pushed all three carts around the back, where he could hose them off.

It was there that he noticed the duffel bag again. Seeing as it had been abandoned in the cart, he didn't really think twice about looking inside. Sure enough, it did seem to belong to someone who had been homeless. Inside, Stephen found a rather worn jacket, that had really seen better days. There was a pair of beat up shoes as well, and what looked to be several pairs of underclothes.

Feeling bad that he may have disturbed someone's only possessions in the world, he resolved to leave the duffel right back in the gully when he was done. The last thing he wanted to do was take clothing of someone less fortunate than himself. He carefully placed the clothing back in the duffel bag, when he noticed the duffel was covering something underneath of it.

Stephen's eyes fell on a soft gray looking box. Almost like a little trinket. Even though the color had dulled, Stephen could tell it was made extremely well, from some metal that he couldn't identify. On the front of the box, there were about five rows of different style shapes, with sliding panels. His fingers casually rolled over the different shapes, and he found he was able to slide them in different spots. It was like almost like a puzzle, or like a rudimentary Rubik's cube.

Thinking nothing of it, he took the little puzzle box and stuffed it in his pocket. If anything, he could play with it when he was bored. After cleaning up the carts, and managing to clean up himself a little, he returned the duffel bag to a safe spot in the gully. After walking back inside, Stephen walked back into the aisle.

And practically right into Ram Doyle.

"There you are, Willow. I thought you might be off today," sneered Ram, looking down at Stephen.

Damnit, he thought. "Oh, hey Ram. What's up?" He replied.

"Hey Willow, smell my finger," said Ram, and jammed his two fingers close enough to Stephen's nose before he could pull away. The draft of something pungent hit his nostrils.

"Hey, cut it out," replied Stephen, only earning a laugh from Ram.

"What's wrong? You don't want to smell the woman you've been pining after?" Ram laughed. "I heard you asked out Abby. So at least you have some balls after all, Willow. Too bad she's already seeing me."

"Yeah, I heard," replied Stephen, watching the ground and not daring to look Ram in the eyes.

"See that's what happens when you become a man, Willow. What happens when you stop being a virgin bitch like yourself. What the fuck are you looking at, you little Mexican?" Ram pointed at Miguel, who didn't answer.

Stephen didn't know what to say either. He knew fighting back wouldn't help, and would most likely wind up with him getting his ass kicked by the much stronger Ram. So he just continued to watch the floor, hoping he would go away soon.

"Man, you two are pathetic," laughed Ram. "I can see why Abby rejected you," he said to Stephen in particular, before casually strolling out of their aisle, but not before kicking a box full of pasta noodles and spilling it out onto the floor.

Miguel was left fuming, and shaking his head, "Man, fuck that guy! I hate that asshole!"

They both scrambled to pick up the destroyed boxes of pasta, and clean up the remnants on the floor. Thankfully, this was one of the few times where Ram didn't create a much larger mess.

"Is it true what he said? Is he seeing Abby?" Miguel asked, after tossing several of the ruined boxes.

"Yeah, it's true alright," Stephen replied. "I saw them together earlier."

Miguel stopped. "Saw them together? Doing what? Where?"

Stephen pointed to the stock room. "They were in the back. I heard them when I was coming back from my break. She was... blowing him in the back corner."

"No shit! Are you serious?"

Stephen nodded.

"Man, that really sucks. I'm sorry, bro," replied Miguel, putting a reassuring pat on Stephen's back.

"I gotta be honest, that one really stung," Stephen admitted, looking at the floor.

"Yeah, I bet!"

"I don't know what she could see in him though. Honestly, I can't figure it out. She's always been so sweet and so nice, so how could she go for a douchebag like Ram Doyle?"

"Dude, don't overthink this one. She choose dickhead Ram Doyle over a good guy like yourself. Her judgment skills are clearly lacking," replied Miguel.

"Yeah, but I'm nothing special," replied Stephen, with a bit too much honesty.

"No, that's bullshit. You're a good guy who would have treated her well. If she can't see that, then fuck her, too. Those two deserve each other," replied Miguel, distastefully.

Stephen couldn't hold back a small smile, "Well, thanks for that, man. I appreciate the words."

"I got your back," grinned Miguel.

Miguel's words made Stephen feel a little better about the whole situation. While the sting of rejection, and the salt in the wound of seeing her with someone else, still caused pain for him, Stephen was already starting to feel better about it after a few hours. It helped that he had Miguel to laugh about it with and discuss afterward. Hell, even for a moment, it was like he had Danny again back, reminding him of how they used to joke around together.

The rest of their shift passed by rather uneventfully. Stephen closed up the store at 10 pm and headed home, finding a plate of leftovers ready for him in the microwave as soon as he walked into the kitchen. The house was quiet this night, and he could tell by the closed door that his mother was already asleep.

Turning on the microwave for a couple minutes, he at first just stood there and watched the plate spin around, until he remembered the little puzzle box that was in his pocket. Pulling it out again, he took another closer look at it. Their were a few different symbols on the front, yet they were not as clearly visible now as they might have been when it was created. Several had been rubbed almost clear off from use.

Stephen could tell the puzzle box was old just by its look and feel. To a certain degree, it even seemed ancient, like it had been around for a very long time, and in many hands. Squinting a little closer, he was able to make out the design patterns, which were simplistic. The five patterns were modeled after different marks, which to Stephen's eyes, just looked like squiggles. For example, there was one squiggle that looked like a half circle, but missing the top portion to make it a full circle. There were five of them on the puzzle. Another looked like a backwards number 4. Five of those as well.

Seeing how they slide into place, he guessed that the object of the puzzle was to line up each of the patterns in a row of five. Five rows of five unique patterns. It seemed simple enough, and he began to line up some of the pieces together to make it happen.

After the microwave dinged, he pulled out his leftovers and sat down to eat, taking casual bites as he began to work the puzzle. Puzzles like this were something that he was used to, having owned and finished several Rubik's cubes in the past. It would just take some getting used to the order to figure out how the pieces slid along to create their pattern.

After getting one row of the symbols correct, Stephen took a break to put his now empty plate in the sink, and left the kitchen, heading back to his bedroom. After slipping out of his work clothes and into his nightwear, he climbed into bed with the puzzle box.

Hmm, this is harder than it looks, he thought to himself, after getting stuck on one of the rows. Grabbing his iPod, he put in his headphones and turned on some music. Music always helped him concentrate better. Now he was able to turn his full thoughts to the puzzle.

He could see how one might think this was easy to do at first. After all, it was just lining up five rows of five different symbols, yet he could see a stumbling block after he had lined up all but two rows of symbols. The last two rows would be almost impossible to get with his current strategy.

Putting it down on his chest, Stephen just stared at it for a few moments, trying to think of a winning strategy to get all five rows. Taking a glance up at the clock, he realized it was close to midnight.Damn! I've been at this almost two hours!

After several more minutes looking at the puzzle, he realized his initial strategy was all wrong. It could only lead to getting stuck on the last line. To solve the puzzle, he'd have to deconstruct the lines he already created, and start from the beginning. His fingers got to work. After about twenty five minutes, he had re-created three of the rows of symbols like before, and could now see a path to completion. His fingers moved quickly, if not for the fact that he was extremely sleepy and ready for bed. At least he had tomorrow off, and could sleep in.