Here's how it goes during the summer in the town of Shelby. The temperature never drops below 90. Girls flock around the neighborhood pools wearing two-pieces in attempt to tan themselves. Most just burn, but few are lucky enough to bake golden brown. The boys are either busy bugging the girls or they could be found on the school's - which was abandoned in the summer- football field, tossing a football around. No matter who you are, or where you are, summer moves fast while you move slow.

Today moved the slowest for me. I was sixteen now, which meant if I wanted a car before school started this year I would have to start work. And that's exactly what I did. After turning in a resume to just about every place with a "hiring" sign on its door I finally landed a job in this shabby, dusty antique shop.

It wasn't ideal at first, but it turned out to be a lot more fun than I originally thought. The owner was a very tall, rosy-cheeked old man named Micheal and he never leaves the store during the day. He just hangs around and talks with me, telling me stories about when he was younger and the trouble him and his buddies got into at rumbles.  Most of them are pretty funny, but some are fairly sad. 

He calls me "Olive" rather than just "Liv" like most people.  My real name always bothered me. Nobody else in this small town had my name. There were about four Hannah's and Like seven McKenna's. But only one Olive. Mom and dad named me after my mom's best friend who had died in a car wreck two weeks before I was born. I never had the heart to tell anyone but myself I hated it.

Like I said, today was moving especially slow. Nobody had come inside to gripe about the prices of our china or to mess up the polaroid photo display we had up front. So I sat behind the cash register, my school assigned summer book in my lap as I skimmed through the pages. 

"You don't seem to be enjoying that book very much," Micheal chuckled. He lifted it up slightly to read the title. "A Christmas Carol? During the Summer?"

"My school is weird, I know," I said, placing my bookmark in my book before placing it shut on the counter. 

He didn't say anything, but his eyes twinkled and that was enough to say he was amused. 

" I was wondering if I could get off early later today?" I asked.

"You've got a date with the boy who slipped you his number yesterday?" he questioned. 

"No, sir." How did he even see that? he was all the way across the store! "One of my friends actually wanted me to go swimming with them tonight."

"Hmmmm," he paused. "I guess you go, it doesn't seem like we have a big boom in business today."

I chuckled, "Not at all."

Coincidentally, the bell on the door jingled. A girl who looked to be about my age walked inside, her head hung down, staring at the floor. She almost walked straight into a china cabinet from the 1900s that would have cost her a fortune if she broke. Her sunburn was almost as red as her cherry colored tank top. I know that she must have spent all day outside to earn that. 

Now, in my town, everybody knows everybody. We all grew up together. It was very rare that we had someone move into town- seven years ago was the last and they didn't stay here very long. And we never got tourists because there wasn't any sort of sightseeing or events to be held in Shelby. So this girl, who neither Mr. Micheal nor I knew was disappearing down the aisles of the store looking sketchy as hell.

Which is why he told me to follow her.

She looped around the same shelves over and over again, searching them from top to bottom before letting out a faint "Aha!" 

The little gold-painted-metal jewelry box that Micheal had placed carefully next to the silver hair brushes was what she was after. She lifted the lid carefully and then unwrapped three marbles from a rag that she took out of her pocket and set them inside. After closing it she winced like it would explode or something. 

When she realized nothing was going to happen, she let out the breath she was holding and turned to leave the aisle, bumping right into me.

"Oof- I'm sorry I was just," she pointed back at the jewelry box with her thumb, "looking."

"I was coming to see if you needed any help with finding something," I lied.

Her eyes widened before she quickly said, "nopei'mgoodthanks."

Before I could say anything else she pushed past me and rushed out of the front door. I shrugged it off, returning to the cash register. 

"She a friend of your's?" Micheal asked. 

I shook my head, " never seen her before in my life."

"Weird," he muttered. "Hey go put this with the records, then skedaddle. Go be a kid with other kids."

"Aye aye captain," I said. 

We always got records, none of them were ever good. Well, I take that back. Once we got this Billy Joel record and I guess he's alright. But with all of this infamous swing and jazz records, we've got a collection that could just about fill my whole room. And if we are ever lucky enough to sell any, it's because people like the cover art.

It's almost impossible to find a spot for it in the crates, so I set it on top. Walking past the aisle with the silver hair brushes I hear a hissing noise. I followed where it was coming from. It led me straight to the jewelry box. I opened it and the marbles rolled around, despite the box being left still. Looking back, picking them up and placing them in my pocket probably wasn't the best idea.

Too little too late.

*

"Finally! Took you forever to get here!" Will exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes. "Sorry, but I have an actual job so that I can get an actual car so that I can be an actual driver."

"So that I can be an Actual driver," he mocked me in a high pitched voice.

"Shut up I don't sound like that," I retorted.

He mocked me again and I chose to ignore him. Then he started talking about his day, which was filled with his usual events. I had Will's schedule memorized, it wasn't hard to do because his days were practically filled with nothing. He was constantly talking about taking up a job at the sandwich shop across from our neighborhood, but he never did because he said the yellow of the uniforms clashes with his pale skin. Today he strayed away from his usual television appointment to walk to Lake Clearwater with me. 

Lake Clearwater was exactly its name. Clearwater. So clear that you can see straight to the bottom, even in the deepest parts. Which is why it didn't take long for me to see someone out in the middle of the lake. I didn't think much of someone else being in this lake, people come here all the time.

It wasn't until I swam out towards them that I realized that he was floating face down. A fish swam by moving the water just enough to flip him over. He was dead, and I'm sure the whole town heard my scream.