Playlist
Sweet Little Lies - bülo
Shameless - Camila Cabello
Honestly - Gabbie Hanna
Just the Same - Charlotte Lawrence
Joke’s on You - Charlotte Lawrence
Toxic - Britney Spears
Plot Line - emlyn
Bored - Billie Eilish
Boyfriend - Dove Cameron
Prologue
Aubrey
This is the story of an absolute psycho.
A pair of them, actually.
It all started one day while I was at work, and the school mean girl Anae came in with a return I couldn’t process.
The article she brought in wasn’t even from our store. I turned over the fuchsia top and looked for a tag anyway, but there wasn’t one. The top had clearly been worn, too. There were faint pit stains underneath each arm.
Pushing the mound of material back across the counter, I told her politely, “I’m sorry, this item isn’t eligible for return.”
She had been talking to her entourage while I did my thing, but when I effectively told her she couldn’t have her way, she turned, her glossy strawberry blonde locks catching the light, and stared at me as if I were a lower life form. “Excuse me?”
I offered an apologetic look. “I can’t give you a refund for this.”
“Why?”
“It wasn’t purchased here.”
“Yes, it was.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
Her eyes narrowed at me. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Of course not,” I said, equipped with my best customer service smile. “Maybe you bought a lot of things that day and some were from here, but this wasn’t. We’ve never carried this top before. And without tags or a receipt, a return is pretty much impossible. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t touch the lump of material on the counter. She continued to glare at me coolly before saying, “You go to our school, don’t you?”
Anae has never spoken to me before, so I was honestly surprised she even knew that. “Yes.”
“Then you know who I am.”
“I do.”
“Is that why you won’t put through my return? Is this some sort of pathetic jealousy thing?”
“No,” I said, hating life and my need for a job. Why couldn’t I have just been born rich so I could live large on Mommy and Daddy’s dime like she did?
That was the most insane part of all of it. Anae's rich! She didn’t need to return the top, yet she made such a big deal about it.
“I want to speak to the manager.”
“The manager isn’t in right now,” I told her. “But if she were, she would tell you the same thing. We can’t return a shirt that wasn’t purchased at this store. We literally cannot do it. If you take the top back to the store you did buy it from, maybe you can return it there.”
Pushing the material back across the counter without breaking my gaze, she said, “Put my fucking return through so I can leave this crappy little boutique and never come back.”
“I literally can’t.”
“If you don’t, there will be consequences.”
What does that even mean? “Look, if you want to call back later and talk to the manager, you can, but no one will give you a different answer than I have. If I could do this return for you, I would. If I possessed a time machine and I could only use it once, I would use it to go back in time and stock this shirt at this store just so I could do this return for you now, but alas, I cannot. There is nothing I can do for you.” I glanced behind her pointedly to a woman with a few articles of clothing draped over her arm, waiting to check out. “Now, if you’ll please step aside so I can help the next customer, that would be amazing.”
Anae’s cold glare could save the polar ice caps if she used her powers for good instead of evil. “Remember this day, Aubrey,” she said, her gaze flickering to my nametag. “Because it’s the day you put yourself on my shit list, and trust me—that is not a place you want to be.”
I wasn’t really sorry she wasn’t getting her way for once in her whole life, but I flashed her sympathetic eyes and lied like any good retail worker would have. “I’m really sorry.”
She snatched her blouse off the counter. “You will be.”
Anae tossed her hair and turned around, dismissing me and storming away in one fluid motion, her two minions right on her undoubtedly expensive heels.
I sighed, knowing she’s exactly the type of person who would call my boss and try to get me in trouble even though I did nothing wrong.
“I love my job,” I muttered sarcastically to myself.
The next woman in line smiled sympathetically as she placed her items on the counter.
“Did you find everything you were looking for today?” I asked her cheerfully.
“Yes, thank you.”
Her manners felt nice after Mean Girl Barbie lashed out over nothing.
As the sane customer thanked me and started toward the door with her shopping bag, I decided to text my boss. I needed to tell her what had happened so I could get ahead of it. If I waited until after Anae called with her version of the story, it would be harder to feasibly explain mine. I mean, aside from the seriously unhinged, who would actually try to get a person in trouble for not refunding a top that wasn’t purchased at our store?