For the next couple of hours, the rest of the girls that stop into the store are more of the party-girl variety that Bryce prefers. This makes him leave the counter, and hang out in the store where he won’t be mistaken for an employee. I turn up the house music a little louder in an effort to drown out the sound of his ridiculously awful flirting. So far, none of the girls have fallen for it, although they all looked flattered that he took the time to hit on them.
I busy myself by organizing some of the crap behind the counter and then cleaning the glass surfaces of our display cases with a bottle of knock-off brand Windex. Slow days are the worst because the hours seem to drag on. Luckily, the sun comes out around three p.m. so the day isn’t so gloomy anymore. I might even go surfing when I get off work, finally giving into the call of the ocean that’s been poking at me all day.
That’s the bad thing about working on the beach. You can’tgoto the beach until your shift is over.
The other crappy part of my day is that once the sun comes out, the customers start flowing in like they’re making up for all the time they missed during the cloudy weather. I don’t get a single free moment to call my phone company, and because of this, Jenny is still texting me like a crazy person.
When Officer Pearson comes into the shop to buy some more wax for his surf board, I get an idea.
“Hey, Officer?” I ask, while I ring up his purchase. He’s friends with my family, so I feel comfortable going to him with my little problem. “I have a problem I was wondering I could talk to you about.”
“You in trouble?” he says with a little laugh, probably because he knows me so well he knows I wouldn’t break the law if I could help it.
I shake my head. “I went on one date with this girl,” I begin.
Officer Pearson bursts into a belly laugh which makes me nervous. “Oh man, I’m not sure I’m ready to hear this.”
I chew on my bottom lip, and take out my phone. “I didn’t like her and I tried to politely tell her that, but she won’t stop texting me. It’s annoying as hell, but she also knows where I work, so now I’m kinda freaking out.”
I hand him my phone and watch his features pull together as he scrolls down the messages. His eyes widen. “Holy shit, kid.”
His thumb flies across my screen, scrolling through the hundreds and hundreds of messages she’s left me in just a few days’ time.
“This is harassment.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. I’m going to block her number, but what if she won’t stop coming by the store?”
“You know where she lives?” he asks me, handing my phone back. “First and last name?”
I give him the information and he writes it down on a little notepad he keeps in the front pocket of his uniform shirt. Near the rack of sunglasses, Bryce is leaning against the wall, trying embarrassingly hard to get the attention of this girl who’s shopping with her little brother. Officer Pearson takes one look at Bryce, rolls his eyes, and then looks back at me.
“I’ll have a talk with her, tell her the legal repercussions of harassing and stalking someone. Usually a visit from the police is all someone needs to calm down but if not, you give the station a call and ask for me. We’ll press charges on her.”
“I don’t want to take it that far,” I say, running a hand down my face.Pressingcharges? That would suck for her, but . . . maybe she deserves it if she doesn’t learn to chill out. Still, I’d feel bad. “Hopefully it won’t come to that,” I say with a sigh.
Officer Pearson shakes his head. “I don’t think it will. Cell phones make teenagers insane these days. All this instant communication really gets to them and they don’t realize how annoying they’re being, you know?”
“Yeah,” I say nodding my head. That’s exactly the reason I have number four and number five on my list of girlfriend requirements. I’m so sick of cell phones running people’s lives. I just want to be real with someone, be in the present with them and share our lives together in person, not via a freaking cell phone.
“Thank you,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand.
“No problem, son. That’s literally my job,” he says with a little laugh before he leaves.
When he’s gone, and the girl looking at sunglasses clearly doesn’t care about Bryce’s sexual stares at her, Bryce abandons his post and comes back to see me.
“Dude, you’re having the cops visit that Jenny girl?”
I shrug. “There’s really nothing else I can do besides keep being harassed by her nonstop. She’s sent me fifty texts in the last half hour.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I feel you. That sucks, though.”
I nod, looking back out the big bay window of the shop that overlooks the beach. “Tell me about it.”
