Page 13 of The Fake Out

I froze. Samantha shook her head and stepped aside for Maebell.

“You did not just do that,” I said, my voice quiet.

His grin was sloppy. “Call me.”

“What should I call you?” I straightened, gripping the tray in my hand with all the rage in my body. Which was a lot at this point. I hated this job.

I hated a lot of things lately.

He tried to wink but it looked like he was having a seizure instead. “You can call me anything you want, babe.”

“How about jackass?” I said sweetly. The next thing that happened was completely not my fault. I was trying to get away, honest. Could I help it if his head got in the way of the tray?

Shane didn’t see it that way either.

“Mae, this is the third customer who’s complained about you this month,” he said when he cornered me at the end of my shift. To my chest. My height plus these stupid high-heeled boots put me a good six inches taller than him. But that didn’t have anything to do with it. He was just a pig. A short pig. A short pig with all the power.

“So, I’m improving?” The month before I’d had twice as many complaints.

“Look, if this happens again, I’m going to have to let you go.”

My heart thumped against my rib cage. I couldn’t lose this job. “I’ll do better.”

For once, he met my eyes. “I’m serious. I can’t have this. We have a reputation to uphold here at Chicky’s.”

“Got it. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

As he walked away, I fantasized about putting a pig in his office. Just for fun.

FIVE

Do you like raisins? How about a date?

—ADLIR A.

“Where were you last night?” I asked Iris on Wednesday morning as I brushed my teeth at the bathroom sink. Which she ignored when she barged in and announced she was taking a shower.

One day, I will live in a house with two bathrooms and no Iris.

She shrugged. “Out.”

It had been after midnight again before she’d slunk into the house. I know because I couldn’t sleep until I knew she was home.

“With who?”

“With whom.”

“What?”

“It’s ‘with whom’?” She flipped on the water and started to disrobe. The mirror began to steam up immediately.

“Are you correcting my grammar?”

Grinning, she hopped into the shower. Without her gothy makeup, she looked young and approachable. “I am getting an A in English, you know.”

“That’s great. More time to focus on passing math now. Have you gone in for tutoring? You can’t fail that class.”

“Sure thing,” she yelled over the water.