"Are you sick, Railyn?!" the store owner, Todd Gaffney gasped. Todd was sporting the latest trends in the Gaffney store; khaki pants that looked a little small at the ankles and a maroon sweater that barely covered his enlarged stomach. He was a kind man in his mid 50's, greying hair sneaking into his dirty blond locks. He was putting away shoes in several huge towers. "You're actually two minuetes early."

"You're hiliarious, Mr. G," Railyn replied, slapping her knee with humor as she walked behind her place at the brown counter. Snowflakes quickly disappeared from her wavy fushia hair as it collided with deadly heat. She tossed her hair over her well-defined shoulders and glanced at the watches in the clear display case situated inside the counter. "Do I have to do anything today?"

"You mean besides the usual flirting and punching buttons?" he asked, reaching high to place the last brick on the shoe tower. Railyn smiled and nodded like an angel as she layed her coat over her black stool, then gently sitting down...

Greg's mom pulled up the silver Lexus to Gaffney's, small flakes of clouds fluttering onto her windshield. "Call me on your cell when you're done," Maryanne shouted to her son as he opened the car door. "Then we'll head over to the Broadway Kids performance."

"Got it, Ma," Greg replied seconds before the door slammed forcefully. Sometimes, she still made him feel like a kid; unable to remember things or do things on his own. The car scampered away like a scolded puppy into the street. Greg sprinted to the heafty metal door complete with one large pane of glass, tugging it aggressively and entering the store.

The store smelt of hot cider. The aroma filled his nose and forced him to smile. There were several circular racks of coats, sweaters and shirts to the left, displays of socks and leather belts hugging the wood walls next to the counter and shoe boxes in several rows and towers overtaking the back of the store. Greg took a step back when he saw Railyn, the girl from the pizza place, sitting at the counter, her eyes jumping with consentration from page to page of a 'CosmoTeen' Magazine.

As Greg seized a step on the green carpet, Railyn head bolted from the magazine, her mouth slipping into a friendly smile. "Mr. Raposo, I presume," Railyn stated, wit flowing in her tone as she let the magazine plunge slowly onto the counter.

He looked at her, surpise expressed on his face. She rolled her light blue eyes and lifted her arms to the ceiling. "C'Mon," she exclaimed, "This town isn't that big." Greg smiled and nodded; this was true.

"You work...here?" Greg enquired, his brown eyes scanning the masculine items begging to be bought and approaching the counter.

"Well..." Railyn started, her stary eyes shifting to the window as 3 boys about her age strolled by laughing. They boys looked into the store and waved to Railyn. "It's a job and It has its perks," she finished, her hand cradeling her head as she wagged her hand back. "And what about you? You shop at our lovley establishment?"

Greg's slow response time made her come to one conclusion. "Ahhh, I've seen this before," Railyn whispered, slamming one hand onto the counter playfully and holding her other hand out to clutch the sweater. Greg layed it laggardly in her hands as she continued, "A birthday or anniversary present. They got you the wrong size."

Greg was amazed at her conclusion...well, the first one. "It was an anniversary present from my girlfriend," Greg told her, linking his thumbs on his sandblashed jean's belt loops.

"Must be serious," Railyn summurized, raising her eyebrows and smiling, "How long?"

"5 months," Greg admitted, his eyes flickering to the watch displays.

"That's forever in our years," Railyn joked, unfolding the sweater and dropping it onto the counter to investigate. Her fingers lingering over the fabric as her tounge inched out of her mouth, moistening her lips. "She got a name?"

"Stephanie," Greg replied, slightly leaning foward to see what she was doing.

"Lucky girl," Railyn stated, her eyes skipping to Greg and Greg smiled back because in his heart, he knew that was the truth. "Oh, what a killer hole!" she gasped, her eyes gawking at the hole the size of a softball staring blankly back at her. "How could she miss this?"

"Beats me," Greg replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"We're going to have to wait for the big bossman to get back from an errand to see what we can do," Railyn informed him in a professional manner, pushing the sweater aside and gazing at the door, resting her head on the palms of her hands. Conversation was crying to be started. "How's your Don Juan of a friend?" Railyn asked Greg, scooping her head down and peering back up.

"As flirty as ever," Greg laughed, brushing his hand against the side of the counter. His brown eyes indavertaintly landed on her name tag pinned on her chest. Railyn, he thought. How could I forget a name like that? "He was smittem by you guys."

"Smitten?!" Railyn asked with forged estaticness, clenching her hands together. "Wow...that must be good." Brief silence overcame them. Railyn's conscience was fighting a silly battle as she glanced at Greg peering out the window. He hasn't hit on her like every other breathing thing with a dick. Not that she minded that, of course not! But she wanted some spice in her life, not the same old pick-up lines and false advertisements. She only wanted what was real. Oh, what the hell? she concluded. "Now, I usually don't do this because I have a rep to uphold," Railyn told Greg confidentally, leaning in as if the walls could blab her secrets. Greg turned and snatched eyes with her. "But you seem cool. Maybe sometime you want to hang out? I need more social interaction. People says it will help with my sarcasm."

Greg contemplated for a few moments, raisng his thumb and pointer to his chin and rubbing it like he knew all the answers to forgoing mysteries. She seemed nice and he was glad she wasn't interested in him because of Dream Street. He wondered if she even knew about that. She was something different, alright; so confident and care-free. Besides, he trusts Stephanie, so why shouldn't she trust him back? "I suppose we can do that," Greg finally spoke.

"Randy, Baby," Railyn replied energetically, radiance escaping from her white smile. "What about next Friday? We can grab some pizza."

"Sounds good to me," Greg replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets; they were freezing.

Before Railyn could respond, she heard the screetching tires of Todd's old black pick-up truck punishing the slick road. "Todd has returned," Railyn shouted, her lake-blue eyes dancing to the beat of her own drum. "Always business before pleasure. Let's make a deal."