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AliNovel > Redo of a Romanceless Author鈥檚 Life Devoid of Love; Another Chance at Youth > Chapter 13.

Chapter 13.

    Chapter 13.


    <strong>Chapter 13. Fitness test. (6/6)</strong>


    <span style="font-weight:400">I slept for a solid three and a half hours. As soon as the bell rang for the end of the day my eyes shot open. I immediately got up from my seat and robotically walked out the door before anyone else even had the chance to stand up.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I still felt like shit, but it was much better than before. My feeling of hunger had subsided a little, but I knew it would immediately re up if I exerted myself too much again. I had to take it easy so I opted to walk directly to the convenience store I worked at while dragging my feet. Normally I’d drop my bag off at my apartment first and change, but I didn’t want to expend the extra energy to do so.


    <span style="font-weight:400">On my way to the convenience store, I stopped inside a public restroom and changed my clothes there. I didn’t want to show up in my school uniform after all. I always kept a spare change of casual clothes in my bag in case of emergencies. I also fixed up my hair and put in blue decorative colored contacts to make it more difficult for others to recognize me. Since I didn’t have any friends, rarely ever talked to people in school, and people hardly paid attention to me, this was enough to deceive anyone from my school who typically shopped here. At most, they’d just think I looked somewhat familiar or simr to someone they’d seen before.


    <span style="font-weight:400">With my school uniform stuffed into the bag on my back I entered the convenience store and put on the work attire I kept stored in the work locker at the back. I stuffed my bag inside and locked it to ensure no nosy coworker would snoop through my stuff.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I took up a position behind the counter beside my fellow coworker who simrly worked here part-time. She was in her first year of university studying literary arts. Despite my current age, I was six feet tall and I was actually half a head taller than her.


    <span style="font-weight:400">She was a girl with waist-length straight ck hair and ck eyes. Her bangs hung down covering her forehead. She wore sses, but I had a feeling they were decorative, or maybe even used to make it harder for others who knew her to recognize her.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I’d never bothered to ask whether they were real or not since I didn’t particrly care to know.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Overall her appearance was actually quite pleasant to the eyes. She had a tranquil, calm, at ease aura about her.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The two of us didn’t really talk very much. We only ever exchanged a few words, the bare minimum expected of us to maintain a work rtionship. That was how I personally preferred things. She didn’t strike me as a very sociable girl, but rather, a quiet intellectual type instead.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I took a seat on the stool directly beside her behind the counter and slumped forward while we waited for customers to approach the counter to pay for any goods they were purchasing.


    <span style="font-weight:400">At the moment she had a book opened up in front of her propped up with her right hand on top of herp.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Judging by the slight smile on her face she was enjoying the book she was reading. She appeared engrossed with it and hadn’t noticed my arrival.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Beside her, I took out my phone and simrly started reading something. The only difference being it was a story I’d written myself. I often used downtime at work when it was slow to edit and proofread my stories. It was a habit I’d developed for years. The phone was kept under the counter so customers wouldn’t take notice and makeints.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Since my coworker was always engrossed in some book or another I didn’t worry too much about her finding out I was an author myself. If anything, she’d just think I was pretending to be one to get closer to her even if she found out anything. That was why I could let my guard down a bit more around herpared to my nosy neighbor in ss.


    <span style="font-weight:400">After a little while, a customer approached the counter with a few items in hand. My coworker received the basket with their items and started scanning them. Noticing I was here she wordlessly handed them over to me to bag them up for the customer.


    <span style="font-weight:400">She handled the interaction with the customer skillfully with a smile while I kept my mouth shut and did only what was expected of me. It was best this way. The store got much more business with an attractive girl handling small over-the-counter interactions.


    <span style="font-weight:400">You’d find peopleing in more to see and interact with the girl than for things they actually needed. The only real purpose for me being here was to act as a deterrent for customers who might do anything weird. Essentially, I acted as an insurance of sorts to prevent easy-to-avoid situations. You could even say I was just here for the convenience store’s convenience in a sense.


    <span style="font-weight:400">If a customer came only to talk to the girl without actually buying something I’d be there to hurry them along their way.


    <span style="font-weight:400">In this manner, we cooperated as a team.


    <span style="font-weight:400">When she scanned all the items and the customerpleted the payment I handed them their bags.


    <span style="font-weight:400">She bid them a good day on their way out and the customer returned the gesture. I simply watched the exchange in silence and sat back down.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“It’s a bit slow right now so why don’t you make yourself useful and restock some of the items.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Sure.” I nodded and did a quick inventory of items on the shelves. I took a mental note of the shelves and items that were out of stock and headed to the area at the back filled with boxes of merchandise. Though I was unbearably tired I wouldn’t make any excuses to not do the job I was being paid to do.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I grabbed arge empty box and ced it on a cart. I rummaged through a bunch of smaller boxes filled with inventory in the room and tossed them into the empty box on the cart. Once I’d secured all the merchandise I needed, I returned to the storefront and stocked the shelves. The entire process took about an hour for me to finish.


    <span style="font-weight:400">My coworker had taken care of any customers who entered the store on her own while I busied myself with this tedious task.


    <span style="font-weight:400">When I returned behind the counter she opened her mouth and said, “Thanks for your hard work, Sean.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">I simply returned her thanks with a silent nod and sat back down. I let out an exhausted sigh andmented over how much time was left in my shift.


    <span style="font-weight:400">As for the name she’d addressed me by just now, that was a fake name the employees here knew me by and what was on my name tag.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The only one who knew my real name was the owner who kept me employed under the condition that nobody discovered I was only 15 and in my first year of high school. I couldn’t legally be employed until I was 16 due to certainborws and how my situation was a bit sketchy, so I had to keep things on the down-low about it for the time being. This coworker of mine was under the impression that we were simr in age.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You seem a lot more tired than usual.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">I hadn’t expected to interact with my coworker any more than that but she suddenly spoke up.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I raised my head, looked her in the eyes, and said, “Aren’t you just imagining things?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Are you saying my eyes are deceiving me and the sweat on your forehead is a lie then?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Isn’t it a natural urrence to sweat a bit after exerting yourself physically?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You’ve never sweat before from stocking shelves.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Sure I have.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You haven’t. I’m quite attentive, you know. While you were stocking the shelves just now you were even asionally sniffling. Are you sick? ”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I’m not.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Not believing me she nonchntly raised her right hand and pressed the back of it against my forehead. The back of her hand was quite cool.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You have a pretty high fever.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You’re mistaken, that’s just my normal body temperature.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I see.” I knew she didn’t believe me and she knew I knew that as well, but she didn’t bother to try and force me to go home or anything. She just sat there with the back of her hand against my forehead.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Uh… can you move your hand?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“My right hand is a bit cold from holding my book, since there’s a heater here I can use to warm it up, I figured I''d take advantage of it.” While holding her book with her left hand and simultaneously reading she told me as such.


    <span style="font-weight:400">When the back of her hand warmed up she rotated her hand and covered my forehead with her palm to warm it up as well.


    <span style="font-weight:400">If I didn’t have a fever I’d have retreated, but because the coolness from her hand provided a bit of relief for me, I simply waited for her to remove her hand on her own.


    <span style="font-weight:400">When both sides of her hand were warmed up she removed it from my forehead. She then entered the staff toilet at the back and washed her hand for hygiene sake. I had been sweating after all. Even so, she didn’t seem particrly bothered by it. She simply remained cool andposed throughout the entire exchange.


    <span style="font-weight:400">This was the first time we’d ever had such an interaction. From what I recalled it certainly never happened my first time through high school either. I suppose this was the butterfly effect in y. A small change in the past could lead to a ripple effect down the line. The difference in the interaction between Rosa and I on the very first day of school was no doubt the root cause of all this.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I’d been careful to emte life the way it had always been for me with the exception of matters rted to Rosa, but today I came in exhausted in a littlepetition with her. That small change from the past was enough to trigger this sort of unexpected event.


    <span style="font-weight:400">The interaction with those boys earlier had also been a huge deviation which would make it hard to determine just how much my high school life from here on will be altered.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Such an inconvenience, this troublesome existence known as Rosa that is.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You should take better care of your health, it would be bad if customers or other employees get sick because of you.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“It’s just a fever from overexerting myself a bit too much. That’s all. It’s not a cold, so you don’t need to worry about that. You don’t need to worry, if I was down with a cold I’d call in sick. I don’t like inconveniencing others after all.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“I know you don’t. But I’ll be inconvenienced if you don’t show up to work, so please do take better care of your health.” She stated cooly while reading the book in her hand.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Her unexpected line caught me a bit off guard. I couldn’t help but think she was a more sly woman than I’d been led to believe.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You must be quite a hit with the guys.” I couldn’t help butpliment her.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“What makes you think that?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You’re quite good at handling customers but you seem rather calcting.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Calcting?” She closed her book for the first time, looked me in the eyes, and tilted her head to the side.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Is there something wrong with what I said?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“No… it’s just the first time someone said that I was calcting. What did you mean by that exactly? What you said got me a bit interested, that’s all.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Me and my big mouth.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“It’s nothing, please forget I said anything.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">Seeing how I wasn’t willing to borate further, she let out a small sigh and returned to reading her book. She likely concluded it was something said at random and I had no basis for it, so she immediately lost interest in me.


    <span style="font-weight:400">We went on with the rest of our shift as usual without any significant event of note. The two of us worked the same hours so we finished at 9:00 PM when a singlete-night employee took over. Since there was much less traffic at night, only one person was required.


    <span style="font-weight:400">They had a decent amount of free time as well from what I overheard from my shift partner talking to them when transitioning between shifts. It was a guy in his third year of university studying business who had sseste into the evening. These two seemed to be on rather good terms.


    <span style="font-weight:400">While they chatted a bit at the front I left them alone and took my leave. I removed the work apparel I wore over my casual clothes, stuffed them in the locker, and headed out with my bag on my back. On the way out of the backroom, I bumped into my coworker who was about to change and leave as well.


    <span style="font-weight:400">When she saw me she opened her mouth and asked, “You don’t normally bring a bag with you to work, do you? Are you also attending university?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">I frowned when asked that question. If I said nothing, ignored her, and walked off without answering her question it mighte back to bite meter on. She might just bring it back upter and if I keep avoiding the question it might look like I have something to hide. If she digs deeper she mighte to the realization I’m in high school.


    <span style="font-weight:400">I didn’t have much of an excuse for why I would bring it with me today either. It’s not like I’m involved in a sports team unrted to a school and say that. I neverpeted on any sports teams either so if questioned further on it I wouldn’t be able to keep up a lie like that. Based on what we conversed about earlier and my obvious exhaustion disyed today, one may draw the conclusion it was rted to athletics though.


    <span style="font-weight:400">It might be best to just act like I really am a university student for the sake of not exposing my current age. As I previously attended one, I should be able to at least maintain that sort of lie as long as the university I went to wasn’t the university she’s attending right now.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Is something wrong?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“No, nothing’s wrong. I just didn’t want anyone to know I was attending university is all. I’m not particrly smart and people would just make fun of me because of how bad my grades are.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“What faculty are you in?”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Electrical engineering.” Ah. Shit, my answer autonomously slipped out because I’d grown so ustomed to the question.


    <span style="font-weight:400">Her eyebrows raised into crescents surprised by my unexpected response.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Are you trying to be humble? There’s no way you’re dumb if you made it into one of the faculties with the steepest learning curve. Among the other branches of engineering, the average GPA for it is the lowest.”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Haha… because it’s filled with idiots who don’t do well on the tests like me I guess.” I self-deprecatingly took a jab at myself.


    <span style="font-weight:400">“You shouldn’t call yourself-”


    <span style="font-weight:400">“Sorry, I’ve really got to go. Also, please keep this a secret and don’t tell anyone else anything I told you today. See you tomorrow.” I cut her off and quickly walked away. The less I talked to her, the better. Now that I’d concocted this sort of lie, I’d have to run with it from now on when we were together at work.


    <span style="font-weight:400">It’s just been one lie after another today. Just when will it end? Well, at least with this lie it cleared up why I might have been so exhausted today. Fatigue built up from studying excessively because I’m an idiot trying to just barely keep up in ss.


    <span style="font-weight:400">After a long day, I finally made it home. I opened the freezer and tossed two frozen TV dinners into the microwave. After five minutes passed I wolfed it all down in a sh. I then copsed on my bed and slept like a log until it was time for my next shift at work on Saturday.
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