☆ ☆ ☆
Milo opened his eyes after a heavy sleep. He grabbed his phone; it was ten in the morning.
He sighed. He didn't usually wake up that late.
The golden glow of sunlight slipped through the bedroom window. It was a warm morning.
Milo stretched a bit before getting out of bed.
He left his room and went down the stairs into the living room.
First, he heard their voices.
There was Isaac, his older cousin. He was arguing with Hanna, the youngest, about something that was clearly not worth it.
"Good morning," Milo said, still half-asleep.
The argument stopped for a second.
"Good morning, Milo!" Hanna said.
"Oh, you're awake already," Isaac said. "Did you sleep well? You looked tired yesterday."
"Ah, something like that," Milo replied as he leaned against the couch. "The trip was a bit rough."
"So, what do you think of the town?" Isaac asked. "Compared to the city, it's pretty quiet."
"I don't know…" Milo replied. "I'm still getting used to it."
Misaki appeared from the kitchen, drying her hands with a cloth.
"Ah, you're finally up," she said, looking at Milo. "Perfect."
She walked over to the table, thought about something for a moment, then looked up.
"Can you do me a favor and stop by the supermarket? I need a couple of things."
Milo nodded.
Misaki quickly wrote a small list on a piece of paper and handed it to him.
"The sauce—don't forget it under any circumstances," Misaki said, pointing at the paper.
"Otherwise, we'll have to eat plain pasta."
Milo didn't take long to reach the supermarket; it was just a few blocks from the house.
The place wasn't as big as he had imagined, but it wasn't small either.
He grabbed a basket and took the list out of his pocket, glancing over it.
Butter.
Orange juice.
Paper towels.
Nothing complicated.
He walked through the aisles almost on autopilot, grabbing the first thing he saw without paying much attention. He took the first butter he spotted and a random bottle of juice. He didn't really care which one; they all tasted pretty much the same anyway, and there wasn't much variety.
As he walked, he noticed that people here greeted each other and chatted naturally, something a bit strange for Milo, who came from a city where a casual greeting between strangers was uncommon.
Milo looked away and kept going.
Paper towels were easy.
The basket was almost full.
He checked the list one more time.
The sauce.
Milo sighed.
He headed to the next aisle. Only then did he start paying closer attention to the shelves.
Several shelves were empty. Milo kept looking carefully for the sauce.
That was when he saw it—the last bottle of sauce.
Milo hurried to grab it.
But at that moment, just as he placed his hand on the bottle, another hand did the same.
"What are you doing?"
Milo turned to look…
"Oh, you're the girl from the café," Milo said.
"Nina."
"Well, Nina," Milo said, "sorry, but I grabbed it first."
"Of course you didn't," Nina replied.
Milo frowned, not letting go of the bottle.
"I saw it first," he said. "It was right there; I just took a second to grab it."
Nina didn't even look at him.
"I saw it too."
"Yeah, but I was already taking it," Milo insisted, pointing at the empty shelf. "Besides, it's the last one."
Nina tightened her grip on the bottle.
"Then you got here late."
Milo sighed, glanced around for a second, as if weighing whether it was worth continuing.
"Seriously… it's just sauce."
"Exactly," she replied. "It's just sauce."
There was a short silence. Awkward.
Milo let go of the bottle.
"Fine. Take it."
Nina didn't say thank you. She just placed it in her basket.
"You could smile once in a while, you know?" Milo said.
"Have a nice day."
She walked past him without looking at him.
Milo stayed there for a second.
"Great…" he muttered, before completely resigning himself.
Milo walked back home, a little disappointed about not bringing the much-desired sauce.
"I'm back," Milo said, a bit downcast.
"Why did you take so long?" Hanna asked.
Milo set the bag down on the table.
"There were people," he replied, not really in the mood to explain.
Hanna peeked inside the bag.
"And the sauce?"
Milo shook his head.
"There wasn't any left."
Isaac raised an eyebrow from the couch.
"Not even one?"
"Not a single one," Milo replied.
Misaki appeared from the kitchen, still wearing her apron.
"You didn't bring it?"
"Nope," Milo replied. "There was only one left, and someone else took it."
Misaki looked at him for a second, as if processing the information.
"Well…" she said at last. "Then we'll improvise."
A strange smell came from the kitchen.
Hanna frowned.
"Is that… burned?"
Misaki slowly turned her head.
"A little…"
A few minutes later, they were sitting around the table with open boxes of Chinese takeout.
Milo looked at the food in silence, still with that feeling that the day hadn't gone the way he expected.
It wasn't what he had gone out for.
But at least he didn't have to eat plain pasta.
Milo sighed.
The day hadn't gone as planned, but even so, it had to go on.
