Elite-RobbieWendy

Robbie leaned against the peeling wallpaper and dirt-crusted spaces separating cold tile.  He shifted his weight to the other foot, absentmindedly checking his shitty temporary phone for texts he knew wouldn’t be there.  Fluorescent lights buzzed above him, a cashier of what looked to be Italian descent reclined on a spare seat at the front of the store, and he the teen let himself find distraction in the dull glow of LED beer signs and swirling Slurpee machines. There was an uncomfortable creak in the silence as the door beside him swung open, and Wendy walked out brandishing her playfully sarcastic grin and always optimistic comment