by A. R. Perry
“Help them. Then come to my office.” With that she leaves me standing on the black mat meant to keep us from slipping but is perpetually wet.
Stupidest thing to be thinking about, but I’m trying my best to stall.
A throat clears from the other side of the counter. With a sigh, I turn to face the biggest jackass on the planet.
“If you actually exercised, you might have made it. Quick feet.” Jesse makes a show of grabbing a biscotti from the counter and pivoting around Braden before shooting it like a basketball. It lands in the tip jar, now a packet of dust.
Braden shakes him off as if it’s normal behavior. His eyes shift from his phone to my face then freezes. “Stella. I didn’t know you worked here.”
Wow. Wow.
My irritation soars. The tiny part of me that thought he wasn’t a self-absorbed jackhole hardens. He has come here to dump his girlfriends. Not to mention the other times he’s come in by himself and in all that time he’s never once noticed me right behind the counter?
I repeat. Jackhole.
“Can I grab you guys something or did you come here for the small talk? Because I’m fresh out of that.”
Braden’s mouth twists into a frown that I hate myself for thinking is sexy. Jesse laughs and props a hip on the counter, his long fingers splayed in the space between us and far too close for comfort. God, I used to find those long fingers attractive. And the boy they are attached to.
“Did someone miss a meal?” he asks as his face contorts into a dramatic pout, his thin lower lip doing its best to jut out. “I’m sure there are plenty of day-old muffins calling your name. Another X added to your clothing size wouldn’t faze you at this point.”
The weak grasp on my rage snaps. I slap my hand down on the counter not even caring if the other customers hear me and lean into his face. “Listen, you little piece of s—”
“Hey guys!” Zari’s cheery voice cuts off what would have been an epic and long-coming showdown between Jesse and me. She plants herself right next to me. “Stell, Melody wanted to talk to you. I can take care of them.”
Despite knowing she’s only doing this to save my job, a small part of me wishes she would have just let me go. Jesse has had it coming for years. No one else seems to have the balls to tell him off and I so want to be that person. I need this job and Zari knows it.
Add that to her growing list of good deeds.
“Sure. Thanks.” I take my time walking to the back just to make sure that Jesse knows I couldn’t care less what he thinks or says—even though it’s a lie because his words stung. While I’m at it, I also avert my gaze and refrain from looking over my shoulder to see how Braden reacted to the whole thing.
Why should he care? And why should I care if he cares?
Shredder’s door is open so I forgo knocking and walk right in. “You wanted to see me?”
She swivels in her chair, turning to face me with a smirk on her face. Never a good sign.
“Here.” She trusts a white piece of paper into my hand. I only read through the wording at the top before I kick the door shut.
“Are you kidding me?” My voice rises with anger and if I don’t take a step back, the whole store will hear me.
“Sign it and go back to work.”
“You have no grounds for a write-up.”
She taps the pen somewhere in the middle of the paper. “Insubordination.”
“Why, because I pointed out the truth?”
“Sign the paper, Stella.”
Still worked up from Jesse’s comments, I gnash my teeth together and do something stupid. I tear the paper down the middle then down the middle again and toss the fragments in the air. “No.”
Shredder jumps up and comes close enough to smell her smoker’s breath. She’s used to everyone bowing down to her. Maybe that’s why she hates me so much.
“Clock out.”
I cross my arms over my chest. Losing hours isn’t an option. “No.”
“Do you want to make this a suspension?”
Of course I don’t. We can’t afford to lose the money I bring in. Somehow, I think my bitch of a boss knows that. “Fine.” I fling the door open. “But Mr. Lee will be hearing about this.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It never does. “I’ll set up the meeting myself.”
Holding in the string of curse words I desperately want to hurl at her, I stomp out of her office, untying my apron as I go.
She’s one of the worst people I’ve ever met and that’s saying something considering I get the pleasure of having Jesse in my life every day.
Zari’s wide eyes meet mine as I fling open the door to the front a little too aggressively. It bangs off the wall not only drawing the attention of the handful of patrons in the lobby, but Jesse and Braden. Fan-freaking-tastic.
“What happened?” Zari asks, but I have a feeling she already suspects judging by her tone.
“Guess who gets the night off?” Each number I type in furthers my irritation. With a small growl, I clock out.
“Oh, I’m sorry I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I cut her off, grabbing my backpack to shove my apron in. “I have a shit-ton of homework, anyway.”
Zari nods, but the pity in her eyes remains. I’ve never regretted telling her about our financial struggles more.
“I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Sure.” Try as I might, I can’t keep my eyes from swinging in Jesse’s direction as I round the counter. His stupid face is stretched into a wide grin that I want to punch off.
I flip him off. Not like it matters much now. I’m not on the clock and my apron with the company’s logo is stashed in my bag. What I do on my free time can’t be tacked onto the write-up.
My irritation only makes Jesse laugh, clutching his stomach like my pain is the funniest thing.
Dick.
The door slams behind me. I shiver. The air has a slight edge, signaling the approach of fall. Seems to be coming early this year. Not that I’m mad at that. Give me beanies and sweatshirts any day. I prefer it to summer. At least I don’t stick out. I would never be caught in shorts or a dress. Looks a little odd when it’s ninety out and I’m rocking boots and jeans.
I glance at my phone. Twenty minutes until the bus comes. Awesome.
Might as well use the extra time to get some of my English homework done. I plop down on the hard bench and drop my backpack onto the ground. The cover of Wuthering Heights is severely damaged, peeling at the corners and appears to have taken a dip. Whatever. Not like I own it. But I do hate to see books treated this way.
The cold glass that serves to cover the bus stop bites into the skin on my upper back as I lean backward. Time to start carrying a jacket.
As I flip to the first page of the book, I tuck my feet under my butt. I love reading, I do, but not the older stuff. I find the language so overbearing, so hard to follow. After rereading the first page three times, I give up and snap it closed. I’ll be saving it for last when I need something to help me sleep.
Ten minutes until the bus arrives.
With nothing else to do, I pull out my phone and do what I do best—mindlessly scroll through social media. Michelle is quiet though after her epic meltdown it’s probably for the best. If she’s careful, everyone will forget about it by homecoming.
Approaching footsteps draw my attention. When I turn, I expect to see another carless person looking about as happy as I feel about public transportation. Instead, my heart skips a traitorous beat when familiar blue eyes peer down a perfect nose at me.
At least he appears somewhat remorseful for his evil best friend’s behavior. Not that I should blame him, it’s not as if he’s in control of Jesse. But friends are an echo of who you are. If Braden can put up with him for longer than five minutes, I have to assume he’s just as bad. Even if he helped me when I spilled my coffee and still hasn’t made any direct comments.
That’s right, I’m going with reason and not the stupid pitter-
patter of my obviously faulty heart.
“Hey,” he mumbles when I do nothing more than stare at him.
“Hey.” I toss the book in my bag and check the time again. Nine minutes. Is it possible for the bus to be early for once?
“Waiting for the bus?”
“Obviously.” Who else waits at a bus stop?
He nods, unaffected by my snarky comment. “I’m sorry about Jesse. I hope he’s not the reason you got sent home early.”
“Nope.” I pop the P and avert my eyes. I swear, my heart is trying to jump out and attach itself to him like some kind of lovesick zombie whenever I look at his face.
I mean, for crying out loud, I’ve avoided him and the rest of the popular kids for years now. Why all of a sudden is my heart not falling in line with my levelheaded brain? We all got together and discussed this exact thing after the Jesse fiasco. No boys. No dating. No love. Not until I’m stable and can survive on my own if—when—things fall apart.
Braden plops down next to me, his body heat sending a wave of goose bumps up my arm.
Oh no.
I scooch over, giving him and myself space.
“How long have you worked here?” Braden asked, oblivious to the fact that I so don’t want to talk to him.
“A while.”
Seven minutes.
Come on, bus.
“So do you normally just work weeknights or are you stuck here on weekends too?”
“Sorry, I don’t make a habit of giving my schedule out to strangers.”
He throws me an odd look, but nods. “Makes it kind of hard to have a social life, huh?”
“Social life.” I snort, then immediately wish I could take it back. I do not need to get into anything personal with Braden DiMarco. With a few words he could make my life so much worse than it is now.
“Well, if you ever have a night off maybe you want to hang out?”
My head whips in his direction sending curls flying from the clip that’s doing a crap job of holding them back. For a few seconds I get lost in that fascinating brown blob floating in a sea of blue. Then I mentally slap myself.
“What?” I glance around, searching for Jesse. He has to be behind this. No way in hell did Braden freaking DiMarco just ask to hang out. Not for real. Not without ulterior motive.
“I said we could—”
“I heard you!” I jump up, dragging my backpack with me. I don’t live that far. Besides, I would rather hoof it than be on the receiving end of some practical joke. “I gotta go.”
“I thought you were waiting on the bus.”
Yeah. I was until you showed up to try to torture me.
“Well, I can use the exercise, am I right?” Bitterness leaks into my tone.
Braden’s face falls. “I didn’t say that.”
Rolling my eyes, I head off toward my house. It’s going to take at least twice as long as the bus, but I’d rather waste valuable homework time than sit around to be the punch line in a popular kid’s joke. Besides, I got out of work early so everything evens out.
Thank you again sick-twisted karma.
When my alarm goes off, I’m tempted to play sick. Thanks to Captain Butthole I didn’t sleep a wink. Still can’t believe him and Jesse thought I would fall for that crap. As if I would agree to hang out and then they wouldn’t show up just so they could spread around how pathetic I am.
I’m neither pathetic nor stupid. That’s the only reason I toss off the covers and head out into the kitchen in search of coffee. Today will be just like any other day. No way will I let those asshats under my skin.
My heart skips a beat.
Oh no, heart. Don’t fall for the good looks. That’s how you end up alone and struggling to support a baby. Or the laughingstock of the school.
Mom gives me a warm smile, cheeks flushed from her early morning run, and slides a cup of coffee across the table.
“Thanks.” I sink down in the old, chipped dining chair we found at a garage sale. Such a steal at a negotiated four bucks. Mom talked the guy down from ten. In no way does it match the other chair or the table. Nevertheless, I love it because it reminds me of fun times with my mom before work hours got cut and rent skyrocketed.
She passes me a box of cereal, refraining from commenting for once. She’s a wannabe health nut and I’m kind of addicted to sugar. I pour myself a bowl of artificial food dye and sweet poison—her words—and smile. She rolls her eyes and takes a bite out of the only dish in her repertoire—an egg white omelet.
Barf.
“How was the first day back? Sorry I didn’t catch you before bed. One of the girls called off, and I got stuck closing. Again.”
“Good.” No point stressing her out with the whole Jesse and Braden thing. She’s the type of person who would call another mother in a heartbeat. Might have been helpful as a kid, but at seventeen, it’s a kiss of death.
“Just good?”
“Busy thanks to those amazing advanced classes.”
She takes a sip of coffee but I see her smile over the rim. “Hey, those classes will help you get into an amazing college.”
One we can’t afford.
“I know. I know.” I wave her away. Too early to get into it with her. She’s holding out hope that I’ll score a scholarship to Harvard or some shit and I know I’ll end up at the local community college.
“Do you work tonight?” She stands and walks over to drop the dishes off in the sink. I’ll end up doing them later. She’s the worst when it comes to chores.
“No.” I work again tomorrow. Hopefully. I haven’t heard anything from Mr. Lee, but knowing Shredder, she’s organized an ambush meeting.
Again. Not something I need to stress my mom out with.
“Okay, well I’ll probably be closing again. I’ll make sure you have dinner.” She smacks a kiss on the top of my head before shuffling off to her room to get dressed.
I don’t know how she’s up and functioning after getting home after midnight. She’ll work from morning until late afternoon, then head into her second job. A never-ending cycle that I hope one day I can break her out of.
Zari is waiting with Devon. I can only pray she kept yesterday to herself. The way he eyes me up and down as I approach tells me she might have let something slip. Girl is too nice and trusting for her own good.
“Morning!” She shouts. There’s an edge to her voice that has my hackles raising.
“Morning.” Devon offers me a large cup of coffee. He better not make a habit out of this because the day he shows up empty-handed is the day I cry right on the front steps.
“You’re a lifesaver.” I take the offered coffee and force a smile.
“Back to your normal getup I see.” Devon waves at my ripped black jeans and dark gray hoodie with a Pink Floyd logo in the center.
“Thank God.”
“I thought you looked great.” Zari smiles as she shifts closer, bumping our shoulders. “By the way, we never got to finish our conversation yesterday.”
“Oh, did you miss the part where I told you hell no?”
Devon laughs as Zari’s eyes widen.
“Please,” she whines. Well to me it sounds like whining, to everyone else it probably sounds sweet like a jingling of bells or some shit. “You have some of the highest grades in class. You could use that to help some other kid who is struggling. Make it your good deed to that karma you’re always talking about.”
“Ugh, boring.” Devon makes a face and turns his back to us. “I’ll catch you ladies later.”
“Oh thank God.” Zari lets out a breath the second he enters the building, her whole demeanor deflating with it.
“What?”
“I thought he would never leave. Figured if I bored him enough we could talk alone.”
Huh. Color me impressed.
We shuffle to the side as a group of kids pour off an ugly yellow bus and make their way up the front steps.
“What do we need to talk about?”
“Uh, ye
sterday. What happened?”
“Shred—Melody is a bitch that’s what happened.”
Zari raises an eyebrow and gives me a look that tells me I’ve offended her sensitive ears.
“She tried to write me up, so I ripped it up.” I shrug and take a sip of coffee.
“What?” Zari’s eyes bug out, which only makes me roll mine.
As if my behavior should be at all shocking at this point.
“So now what? Are you fired? Was it Jesse? Because I’ll talk to him and sort it out.”
“Never talk to him about me.” I turn and head inside. Zari follows close behind. “I might have snapped at her so now she’s making a big show of it. I don’t think she even heard what went down with Jesse and me, and if you don’t mind I’d like to not talk about it. All it does is egg him on.”
For a few seconds she chews on her lip in silence. “He can be a jerk.”
“Jerk is putting it nicely.”
“I told him to back off after you left.”
“You did not.” We stop in front of my locker so I can drop off books before they cause scoliosis.
Zari takes my coffee so I’m not juggling with it. She leans against the locker next to mine with a proud mama bear expression on her face. “Yup. Told him that he was rude and needed to be polite.”
“Ooo, I bet he listens to that.”
From the corner of my eye I see Zari get as close to a scowl as possible. Too bad it wouldn’t even scare off a mouse let alone me.
“What about Braden?” I ask even though I swore I wouldn’t think about him again, let alone talk about him.
“What about him? He didn’t do anything.”
I beg to differ, but whatever.
“You didn’t say anything to him?”
“No why?”
“No reason.”
So Jesse was behind his turnaround. Figures.
“Catch you at lunch?” I ask as I zip up my backpack and sling the strap on my shoulder.
Zari passes the coffee to me. “Wanna sit with me?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
Zari laughs as I leave her to head off to English where I plan to keep my seat from yesterday. My back to Braden is the only way I’ll get through it.