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After listening to Evan chatter incessantly in an overexcited, boyish voice,hisvoice, deep and mature, makes me jump in my seat and my gaze skitters over to him.
Only to find that he’sstillstaring at me.
“What it is that you do?” he asks, addressing Evan but you guessed it, looking at me.
“I work in a store,” Evan supplies, going for a mozzarella stick, or rather going foranothermozzarella stick.
Or it could also be said that he’s going for thelastmozzarella stick.
All of which he has consumed alone, without any help from any of us.
But that’s okay.
I don’t think any of us could eat anything right now. I’m too nervous to eat; Riot’s too pissed and I don’t think his date would touch any of this fried stuff with a ten-foot pole.
“What kind of a store?” the love of my life asks, still keeping his eyes pinned on me.
“Bard’s Cannobology.”
At this, thankfully —thankfully— he takes his eyes off me and directs his stare at Evan. “You work at a cannabis store.”
He states that in a flat tone but I can see the muscles of his jaw tightening. Or rather tightening some more, indicating that he isn’t a fan of my date working at a store that sells pot. Or rather various products made out of it.
I, for one, didn’t know that.
Although it wouldn’t have been hard to guess; Evan is high.
He is so absolutely and completely high.
He’s high to an extent that he’s both lazy and hyper, and somehow both sitting up way too straight while lounging in the chair at the same time. Oh, and of course, eating everything that’s in his sight, including those mozzarella sticks and before that, a complete order of onion rings.
I crinkle the napkin in my hand as Evan replies with a dopey grin, “Yeah, dude. And it’s awesome.”
There’s a hard clench in my boss’s jaw, quite possibly the hardest so far, as he responds, “How is it awesome, Evan?”
“The job’s easy and I get a twenty percent discount on basically everything,” Evan says with a grin that now seems painted on his mouth and won’t ever come off.
“That does sound awesome, Evan.”
“If you want, I could hook you up,” Evan offers and I tear a piece of that napkin in distress.
“Is that right?”
“Totally, dude. I could even get you a twenty-five percent VIP discount,” he boasts with joy, and I’m this close to clenching my eyes shut.
“Well,” Riot goes, “how could I resist a twenty-five percent discount, Evan?”
“You can’t,” Evan agrees. “They got the best pot in town.”
He makes a noncommittal sound. Then, “So is that your goal in life, Evan? Make a name for yourself in the pot dealing industry?”
“I guess.” He shrugs. “But I’m not trying to tie myself down right now or anything, you know what I mean? Like I’m only twenty-seven, dude.”
“Sure,” Riot murmurs softly while his eyes are sharp. “Of course, I knew what I wanted to do ever since I was five or so but then not everyone’s as,” he looks for a word, “adventurous as you are, Evan, are they?”
Evan dips his finger in the marinara and licks it off as he nods. “That’s for sure. So I’m playin’ the field, trying to see what I like, and if I score some free pot along the way then why not?”
Riot’s nostrils flare while his eyes get even narrower. “Yeah, why the fuck not? After all, you’re only twenty-seven, aren’t you?”
