I finally made my way up to the cashier and awkwardly place my items on the counter still shaken up by the baby killing pills when it occurred to me that the guy at the registered had been eyeing me this whole time.
He looked young, no older than a highschool senior I supposed and he looked as if he would rather be anywhere else than here.
Although I don't blame him for looking, for I was wearing a typical thief's outfit, I still felt weirded out and shy.
I closed my eyes for a few seconds and silently prayed as he scanned my cheese and crackers, hoping that it wouldn't be over $20 and let out a breath of relief when he finally told me how much, "that will be $8.50 miss."
I dipped into my purse and reluctantly gave him one of my last $10 bills holding on for dear and he tried to wedge the note from my fingers.
I sighed and gave up when he gave me a death stare pouting and folding my arms and he took his sweet time ringing up my bill.
