What the hell? Just shut up, I want to scream. The clerk has already put the money into a paper bag and he’s handing it over right now. This will all be over in thirty seconds if Preppie will just shut up.
The perp turns the gun in our direction. I lock eyes with him even though I know it’s not the smartest thing to do. He realizes I can identify him, I can see him thinking about it, wondering what to do next. Suddenly, the smell of tamales sucker punches me and my stomach lurches. The wannabe-hero turns his back to the perp and shields Bethanie, pushing her to the ground and sending the contents of her bag all over the bodega floor. That move is like a cue for the perp—he breaks our gaze, grabs the paper bag from the clerk and takes off.
I was right—it’s over in just about ninety seconds. None of us wants to stick around to give the cops a statement. Preppie, who might have gotten us all killed, helps Bethanie grab the stuff that fell out of her bag while I scan the store for cameras. There aren’t any that I can tell. As the three of us leave the store, the clerk is picking up the phone to call either the owner or the police, depending on how good the owner is about obeying employment laws and paying his taxes. I manage not to puke until I reach the parking lot.
DAFINA KTEEN BOOKS are published by
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119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2011 by Kimberly Reid
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-7458-8
My Own Worst Frenemy Page 23