I couldn't help laughing, because what was her excuse?
"Riley's a dog; don't worry about it," she said dismissively. I wish I could dismiss it just as easily. Ella got up and left, went to check her makeup in the bathroom and I finished my dinner before going to my locker to get my cigarettes.
Out of the blue, he appeared behind me. How had I not seen him coming? Heckles rose up my back. I felt him there like an electric current and we weren't even touching.
He leaned down, placing his mouth closer to my ear. "I know I said I'd let you call me babydaddy if you let me fuck you, but I'm still not comfortable with the term," he said. I could hear the amusement in his voice. "Probably gonna give a whole bunch of people the wrong impression, although I'm more curious what impression you have."
"Fuck off, Riley," I said, but he didn't move. I felt like he was crowding me, which he hadn't ever done before. Before, his intimidation had been solely verbal, but now it was more physical. I pushed him in the chest until he took a step back.
"And now you flatly reject me. Use me as your sex toy and then ignore me."
He followed as I walked outside and I swore. "Just leave me alone, Riley."
"Are you sure, because the moment your inhibitions drop, you seem to head straight for my cock. What meaning can be read into that?"
I turned to him, fury blazing in my eyes.
"Oooh," he said, grabbing my cigarette pack out of my hand. I could have fought to get it back, which again would have been overly mature. He grabbed one out and lit it with the small lighter hiding in the pack, before handing it back to me.
"Why do you always have to be such a total dickhead?"
He leaned back on the wall and smiled. "In vino veritas," he said. "You know what that means?"
I had no idea and little desire to know.
"It means in wine is truth."
"I'm not interested in your cryptic bullshit." I knew exactly what he was saying; I just wasn't prepared to accept it.
"No?" he said, taking a drag and blowing it out. He stared at me for a moment and it was uncomfortable not backing down, but I refused. Pushing off the wall, he stepped toward me, standing right in front of me, looking down. I couldn't believe not so very long ago, we’d been entwined. And rich of him calling me out when he had just as readily sought me the moment his inhibitions were gone. In fact, he'd kissed me first.
I'd been kissing him; it seemed so outlandish. Memories flashed through my mind. A small grin spread across his lips. "Thanks for the fuck, princess," he said and slapped me on the ass as he walked away.
Embarrassment flared up my cheeks. It came across as a total dismissal and then slapping me on the ass, like some bad eighties TV show? There was nothing in that last remark that wasn't calculated to be offensive. What was it exactly that I had done that gave him the right to be such an asshole? A good person, a good guy would have cut me some slack for bizarre behavior because I'd been completely out of my mind, but not him—he had to go in for the kill, every time.
It wasn't important, I decided. If he wanted to go through his entire life being an asshole, what was it to me? It was his choice and he shouldn't really be all that surprised when he ended up alone and unwanted, because who was seriously going to want this bullshit in their lives?
That actually made me feel better. If Riley's intent was that I never, ever sleep with him again, he'd succeeded. Congratulations, you fucker.
"And I hate smoking," I said viciously, throwing my half burned cigarette in the can.
Julian was standing in the main thoroughfare when I walked in. "You," he said, pointing at me, "in there." He indicated to the lunch room, where Wyatt, Ella, Mia and Riley were either sitting or standing around the walls. Dread crept up my insides. Maybe the fact that we'd all been out of our brains yesterday hadn't exactly gone unnoticed. Fuck, I said silently, taking a spot near the door, where Julian was now standing.
"Now you little twerps have been stupid," he said calmly. He didn't look angry, but he spoke clearly and concisely. "Doing drugs is stupid." Oh, here we go. Get ready for a lecture on how dangerous drugs are. How we could ruin our lives and end up looking like some meth whore. "Doing drugs in my shop is idiotic. To prove my point," he said, holding up the papers in his hand, "here are the agreements you fucks all signed last night agreeing to a ten percent cut in your wages for the next month." A gasp sounded around the room. I didn't remember signing that, but I did remember Julian talking to me and also me telling him how lovely I thought he was. Mortification flared up my cheeks again. No seriously, could this just stop getting worse now? And a ten percent cut—that was going to hurt. "Personally, I would like to thank you. Your sacrifice is going toward a nice little holiday for me. Bermuda maybe. Somewhere with fruity, alcoholic drinks with little umbrellas in them. I'll make sure to think of you as I'm lying on the beach. You can all go," he finished sharply.
I didn't dare look him in the eye when I walked past, instead meekly tucked my hair behind my ear. Yep, he'd got us good and there wasn't a damned thing we could do about it, because apparently we'd been stupid enough to sign the papers he'd stuck in front of us. Well done, Julian.
* * *
Chapter 21:
* * *
We all felt subdued and ashamed the next day, or maybe it was just me, but I could hardly look Julian in the eyes. I'd mumbled an apology when I'd first turned up and he just rolled his eyes and moved on, making me feel even worse for some reason.
Riley—I didn't even want to think about him. He didn't really speak to me and I was fine with that. Where do you go after a 'thanks for the fuck'? What else was there to say?
At least I physically felt better than yesterday. I went through the motions at the register, getting an order wrong and the customer puffed with exasperation like it was the worst thing that had ever happened to them.
I'd bought a salad today, because my body felt depleted. Deseree was sitting in the lunch room when I got there, eating what looked like casserole.
"That smells good," I said. She shrugged and continued eating. Deseree could be rude. I didn't think she meant to be, or maybe she just didn't care. It was the underlying theme with Deseree.
"I heard you guys got your pay docked," she said after a while. "That's gotta hurt. Suppose you kind of asked for it though."
I smiled tightly, not really knowing how to respond to that.
"I suppose you're young enough to be as irresponsible as you like," she continued.
I never knew where I stood with her. Her comments could be either really bitchy or just blunt observations. They never went far enough to indicate which side of that line they fell on. I still didn't have anything to respond with.
"You do stupid things, you end up paying for them," she warned, pointing her fork at me. She was certainly right. "Saying that, I wished I could do drugs and run around being idiots. Actually, just one night would be nice. Enjoy it while it lasts, these days will be gone before you know it and your life will consist of work, house work and paying bills, in whatever order you like."
I bit my lips together, again thinking how awful Deseree's life sounded. Maybe she just made it sound bad.
To my relief, Ella walked in, looking murderous. "What happened?" I asked.
"Brandon, the fuckwit, has been sleeping around on me."
I gasped, more out of sympathy as I wasn't surprised. From everything she'd told me, he sounded like a real fucktard.
"This ugly little skank. I don't get it. What does he see in her? I am so much better than her—any day. And her hair's like fucking straw. He was like, 'I love you, baby, you're the best, babe. No, of course I'm not interested in anyone else,’ but as soon as I turn my back, he's up in some whore's vagina. I don't get it. Why can't guys just stick to what they say? I'm not some girl you put aside. Who told him I was some girl he could fuck over?"
I could see the hurt in her eyes. "Guys aren't my favorite topic either," I said. "I'm sorry."
"All this
time, he's been texting with this other girl. Telling me one thing to my face and then texting with this girl behind my back. Fuck him."
Deseree chuckled. Okay, I was starting to get really pissed off with her attitude.
"Maybe you shouldn't be expecting these horn-dog boys to be anything but horn-dog boys. Don't be so damned gullible."
"No," Ella said harshly. "I don't buy that boys will be boys bullshit. If you say something, you do it. Don't go calling me babe and then go behind my back. And who is this bitch who goes around some other girl's back screwing their boyfriend? Who does that?"
"So what are you going to do?" Now, I didn't really want Deseree to be part of this conversation. Yeah, her life was crap and maybe our problems seemed miniscule compared to hers, but she had set her own life up to be shit. Don't blame us.
"He'd better work hard or that skank can have him."
Deseree snorted.
"You've got a problem?" Ella said sharply.
"He's a dog. How many times are you going to forgive him?" Deseree demanded. "So what's the price of your forgiveness? Some empty promises in your ear? Flowers? A diamond? Or are you going for broke—a ring on your finger maybe? You're only showing him that whatever he does, with a bit of work you forgive him in the end. He's just gonna work harder not to get caught next time."
"It isn't like that."
Deseree snorted dismissively.
"So what, the only relationship worth it is with some dude who's so whipped he lets you carry around his balls in your purse?" Ella said, staring at Deseree.
"He ain't running around on me."
"Doesn't that make him a hostage?"
It was Deseree's turn to get pissed. She replaced the lid back on her Tupperware and rose, turning her back on us and going to the sink, violently scrubbing her utensils.
"That bitch is crazy," Ella mouthed as Deseree walked past us. I felt disloyal because, even for her complete lack of tact, I agreed with some of the things Deseree was saying. Obviously, I wouldn't put it like she had, but if a guy had so little respect for you that he'd speak with other girls, was coming down on him going to make him change? Brandon obviously didn't care enough about the relationships to risk losing it the first time. Things could hardly get better from there, with her checking his texts and socials to make sure he was on the straight and narrow.
I rubbed my hands over my face. Were there any guys you could trust? Were they all just fucking assholes and we'd end up as single mothers, just like my mom. It just seemed too bleak to think about. There was always the command and control version of marriage that Deseree seemed to go for, but that sounded awful. I groaned.
"Have you spoken to Riley?" Ella asked, obviously still worked up from her argument with Deseree. Both her arms and legs crossed tightly, her foot bouncing in the air with agitation.
"Nope, and I don't wish to." I had zero desire to discuss our little run in the day before. In part because I didn't really trust Ella's advice. Again, I felt disloyal, but then maybe Ella was right: relationships couldn't exist without compromise. If you never forgave, then you absolutely would end up alone.
"Mia has no right being shitty. They're not a couple and they never really were. Riley was just messing around with her."
"Riley was just messing around with me." It was time to be honest about it. I'd offered, he'd taken—it was simple. Maybe it was time I stopped beating myself up about it. And Mia could just go fuck herself.
Come fall, I would start college and probably never see this place again. I still hadn't figured out what the hell I was going to study. I had no clue. I was supposed to know by now.
I got up and Ella followed, walking up to the front of the restaurant. We walked past Riley, who kept his back to me. Yeah, you don't have to be a total asshole about it, I said inside my head. I got the message loud and clear: it meant nothing. Like I wanted it to mean more, I thought sarcastically. Me and Riley, on what planet was that a good idea? He'd drunk half the time, has absolutely no ambition and was a world-class asshole. Granted the sex had been spectacular, but that was the drugs.
Then we walked past Deseree who had gone back to manning the drive thru. Her face looked sour and drawn. She was stuck here for the rest of her life, doing jobs like this. This was the reason I was going to college, to have more choices, to do a job that didn't require a uniform. A spear of guilt shot through me, because my mom wore a uniform, but she was a nurse, and that had some respect—along with endless stress.
Matilda was at her register like the automaton she was. All ambition and no inner life—or maybe she did, what did I know? Could be Julian was right and she was plotting all or our murders. She didn't even bother with guys, dismissed them as completely irrelevant and maybe there was something to that. Whatever made her different apparently wiped out all the hormones that made us do stupid things, lusting after boys whose main objective was to spread it around as far and wide as possible. Matilda just dismissed all of that, along with the endless dramas. How simple did that make life? Maybe we were the stupid ones, so concerned that boys liked us, when really all they wanted was to get in our pants. It'd be nice not to be completely deluded.
Great. I was taking advice from the psychopath now.
* * *
Chapter 22:
* * *
The next day, Ella was bright and bubbly like she always was, like nothing had happened. She switched really quickly, or she was just hiding how she was feeling. Either way, she was not in the mood to talk about it. She did have new nails though, with crystals, lace and even small feathers. They were by far the most elaborate nails I'd ever seen. Maybe to claw Brandon's eyes out with.
Mia actually smiled at me—just the tiniest bit, then it was shutters down. Actually, it might have been more of a grimace. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Riley was an asshole—and he completely dismissed her. Why was she still hanging on? Okay, admittedly it was hard to let go when someone dissed you, probably because there was no pride-saving comeback. And that was where Mia was at the moment, but didn't she see that we both were? Or were we?—I had no idea. All I knew was the Riley pretty much pretended I didn't exist. And I was pretending I was utterly cool with that. Technically, I didn't mind, it was just the act of dissing that hurt, like you're totally not worth anything.
With a sigh, I leaned my elbows on the counter. Even the toughest constitution would struggle with a plain diss—except maybe Matilda.
A little like Ella, I didn't want to talk to anyone today. Everything was tedious and boring, and I couldn't wait to get out of here. The clock had barely budged and I sighed again.
"Hello, Pepper," a man I'd never seen before said. "How are you today?"
I was a little stumped. First that he knew my name, which was written on my name tag, but he used it, and then asked how I was. "Uhm, fine," I said with a wary smile.
"It's such a beautiful day today. I hope you got a chance to see some of it."
Again, I didn't quite know what to say. "Sure." Should I inform him that I only work nights and I wasn't chained to this counter? But then why would I? This wasn't information he should have, or even expect to be privy to.
"I like what you've done with your hair," he said and smiled.
Creepy! Why was he doing this? This familiarity wasn't part of the deal, but I suspected he was trying to be nice, maybe prove some point that society in general should be a community. But he was breaking the contract. I serve and show the appropriate level of corporate-prescribed courtesy; he was supposed to show complete indifference other than receiving his order correctly, but instead he was acting like we knew each other, like this had some meaning beyond a simple transaction.
"Today, I think I will have…"
I'm not your butler, I wanted to say, but I just kept smiling, feeling totally awkward. There were customers like this, who wanted to pretend this was fifty years ago when everyone in town knew each other and this familiarity was perfectly acceptable. I mean, there wer
e the old people who were so starved for conversation they talked to us about their cats and nephews they never saw. You felt sorry for them and indulged them, but his dude was on a different level of creepiness.
Tense and awkward moments later, he took his tray and sat down, now paying equal attention to Ella. I could see the uncertainty grip her when he started to talk.
"I'm taking a break," I said, realizing I didn't want to think about this guy and what sociopolitical statement he was trying to make. I walked into the back and went to my locker. I had a sandwich in my bag, but I didn't feel like eating it. Instead, I pulled out a chocolate bar and my pack of cigarettes. Of course I knew I shouldn't have either, but today I needed something.
Wyatt was outside when I walked through the back door. "Hey, Pepper, how are you?" Almost exactly what that man had said, but now in an appropriate context.
"I'm good. Actually, I'm bored out of my brain. I just don't want to be here today."
"I hear you."
"How's everything with the comics going?"
"Cool. I've got some new readers which is awesome. I’m working on a new story, but it's not quite right yet."
Kind of like my life, I thought.
The door opened and Riley walked out, making me tense. The whole atmosphere changed—charged. Did everyone grow intensely uncomfortable as soon as he walked in? He'd had the same effect on me since the moment I’d met him. Why did Mia like him? Why the hell had I got it on with him?
I bit my lips together as he sat down on the ground next to Wyatt. "Anyone on the grill?"
"Brian's manning it for five minutes."
Brian—I'd forgotten about him. "What does he do anyway?"
"He does the main stocks, the burger stuff. Takes the deliveries and that stuff."
"Oh," I said. It sounded completely logical now that he mentioned it.
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