“A boy sticks something in his pocket. What is it and why?”
He’d been trying to impress the group of boys for weeks.
They’d seemed tougher than any others he’d come across, as if they ruled over the town and everyone in it.
After last time, he needed those sort of people for friends. He needed the security if he was going to get along here.
Yes, they were older, but only by a couple of years.
Taking a deep breath, the young boy walked up down the corner shop, pretending to browse the great mixture of items on the shelves.
He knew no one in this town yet. He couldn’t afford to screw this up.
Walking slowly over to the Sweets aisle, he stopped, giving a glance over to the window where the group of boys were still waiting for him. One of them had just said something funny as they were laughing, leaning on each other for support. One boy – the leader – was watching the young boy however, and encouraged him on through his eyes.
Taking a deep breath in and out, the young boy turned back to the aisle and started looking over the chocolate.
The cashier was busy with a customer, chatting away with them as if they were long-term friends. They were completely oblivious to this little boy.
No other person seemed to be around.
Taking the chance, the young boy pocketed two of his favourite chocolate bars, pulling his jumper down over his pocket so that they were hidden, and then paused, pretending to browse a little longer.
The laughter from the boys had gotten louder now, and when the young boy turned to look at them, he could see that they were all watching him.
Straightening up his back, the young boy moved to the door, brushing back his hair with his hands.
Just as he was closing in on the exit, the boys entered the shop.
This startled the young boy, making him jump as they made the door ding.
The cashier looked away from his customer and over to the boys. He gave a smile.
‘Hiya, Dad.’ the leader said, loud enough for the whole shop to hear.
‘Hi, son.’ the cashier rolled his eyes and turned back to his customer. ‘Not making trouble again I hope?’
‘No,’ the leader said, ‘just making friends.’ and he turned to the young boy, a smirk on his lips.