Page 5 of Outnumbered


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I roll my eyes. She’s a crappy shoplifter. I’m not sure there is any way she could be more obvious. Kirk is staring right at her as she shuffles her feet back and forth. She replaces the trail mix and heads around to the other side of the rack. She’s out of direct sight, and Kirk directs his gaze to the convex mirror at the corner of the shop.

She turns her back toward the mirror and shifts her weight, leaning toward the shelf full of pre-packaged baked goods. I don’t see her hands, but I’m still pretty sure she picked something up. A moment later, she moves to the refrigerated section, grabs the cheapest bottle of water, and heads up to the counter.

Kirk has about half of my items rung up already, and he stares at the woman as she smiles and places a dollar next to the cash register.

“Here you go!” she says, still smiling. She gives a little wave as she takes a step toward the door.

“That’s another three bucks for the donuts you’re stealing.”

“What?” She straightens her shoulders and looks with indignity at Kirk. “What are you talking about?”

“The powdered donuts in your left pocket,” Kirk says as he places a meaty palm on the countertop.

She touches the outside of the pocket, covering the bulge with her hand. Her eyes widen, and she appears to be genuinely shocked when she pulls out the package.

“I…I don’t know how those got there.” She looks like she’s going to burst into tears, but there is no way Kirk is going to let her off the hook. Regardless of how pretty she may be, Kirk likes his cash, and I have a feeling that the dollar she placed on the counter is the only one she has.

“I’ve got it,” I say abruptly.

Kirk looks at me with obvious shock. I ignore his stare and grab the package of donuts from the woman. She also stares at me, her mouth slightly open but unable to form any words.

“Just put it with my stuff.” I cross my arms and wait for Kirk to start moving again.

“I shouldn’t put up with this shit,” he mumbles but rings up my remaining purchases, donuts included, and gives me the total.

I hand him the cash, hand the woman her donuts, and walk out.

She follows me.

“Thanks for that,” she says. She stands off to one side as I open the back of the Jeep and begin to shift items around to make room for the rest of my supplies.

“It didn’t cost much.” I don’t make eye contact with her, hoping she’ll just leave if I ignore her, but she doesn’t.

“I’m Seri,” she says. She laughs nervously. “It’s spelled with an e, not an i like the phone personality.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know,” she says as she takes a step closer, “the woman’s voice on the phone that gives you directions and whatnot. It’s short for Serenity, which sounds kind of pretentious, so I just go by Seri.”

I stop loading for a minute and look at her. She’s still smiling, but it’s a nervous smile, not a friendly one. She wants something—more food, money, a place to stay—but I don’t care. I don’t need to get involved in anyone’s drama.

“I don’t own a phone,” I tell her. “Never have.”

“Oh.”

I lean down and pick up a box of supplies. I have to shuffle a few more things around, but I have almost everything in the back. The booze and cigarettes can go in the front seat.

“I ran out of money getting here,” the woman says, trying desperately to continue the conversation I keep trying to end. “I didn’t realize there wasn’t much work to be found in the winter, and—”

“I really don’t care.” I wish she would just be on her way, but I made the mistake of playing the nice guy, and she’s hoping to get more out of me. I could probably get something out of her if I was that kind of guy, but I’m not. I don’t pay for sex, not even as barter, no matter how long it has been.

“It’s just…you’re the first person who’s helped me at all since I got here, and I thought maybe…maybe…”

“Look,” I say as I toss the rest of my stuff in the back of the Jeep and turn to face her, “I really don’t need to hear your life story. I don’t give a shit. You don’t owe me anything, so just be on your way wherever you are going.”

In a flash, her expression changes completely.

“Just another self-serving asshole, aren’t you?” she says, speaking through clenched teeth and pointing an accusing finger at me. “You could at least try to be polite! I thought this place was known for its hospitality!”

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