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He narrows his eyes. “What does that mean? What worse things have you been through? Are you talking about all that shit that went down a few years ago?”
He’s referring to the time when I was rumored to have willingly filmed a gang bang with half the soccer team in the locker room during my freshman year of high school. We weren’t friends back then, but there wasn’t anyone in town who didn’t hear about that. While the story was false, there’s usually an element of truth in any lie. That was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life and rumors had nothing to do with it. The truth is what scarred me so intensely that I feel sick just thinking about it. I try my best to lock that shit up in the deep recesses of my brain so I don’t wind up in a mental institution.
“Yeah, well, that time in my life wasn’t exactly fun. It still follows me. You know that, Dyl.” I don’t bother correcting him; it’s better to let him think that was my problem. It’s actually the reason I don’t give out my real name when I hook up with a guy. The people in this town certainly don’t need any more fodder for their gossip circles. My Scarlet Letter is big enough already.
“Shit, my mom is here,” Dylan mutters.
I look at the clock and notice that Marilyn is early. We watch as she parks her car and walks to the trailer.
She peeks her head inside the door. “Dylan, what are you doing here so early?”
“Hey, Ma. I was bored so I thought I’d come in.”
She scrunches her brows. “Well, honey, I need to speak with Kat for a bit. Privately.” She looks around the coffee cart. “As you can plainly see, there isn’t any room for that to happen with you here.”
Dylan gives me a worried look and then stares at the floor. “Uh…okay. I guess I’ll go grab a quick lunch and come back.” He glances my way again. “You sure you don’t need my help, Kat?”
I gulp. “I’m fine, Dyl. Go on.”
Marilyn is carefully watching our exchange. “Yes, Dylan. Go enjoy your lunch. We shouldn’t need more than thirty minutes or so. I’d like to take advantage of our low-traffic.”
Dylan exits the trailer and slips into his truck. Marilyn waits to speak until he’s pulled away. “Why don’t you gather your things, Kat?”
I tighten my ponytail. “Um, my shift isn’t over for almost an hour. What about the customers?”
She waves her hand dismissively and ties an apron around her waist. “I’ll take care of any customers that may come by. Just gather your things and have a seat so we can talk.”
I quickly do as she asks and take a seat in the corner. “Look, Marilyn, I really am sorry about this morning. I’m not sure how, but I turned off my alarm at some point.”
She wipes down the counter and begins rearranging the syrups. “Well, be that as it may, you and I both know this isn’t the first time this has happened. In fact, it’s the third time. You know what they say about three strikes, don’t you, Kat?”
A car pulls up, putting my defense on hold. After the customers drive away I say, “Please, Marilyn, I really am sorry. I promise I won’t let it happen again. I need this job.”
She rolls her eyes. “And I need a reliable employee, Kat. You made the exact same promise last time. It’s nothing personal, but I’m going to have to let you go.”
“Nothing personal, my ass,” I mutter.
“Excuse me?” Marilyn shrieks.
“Nothing.” I grab my purse off the nearby hook and stand. “So that’s it?”
“Your alarm passcode has already been disabled and I have a locksmith coming later today. I’ll have your final check ready for you by tomorrow. You can swing by to pick it up or I can mail it to you. Which do you prefer?”
Wow, she’s efficient. I guess I really didn’t have any hope of keeping my job. “I’ll stop by on my way to the bank tomorrow.”
She nods. “That will do.” I place my hand on the doorknob when she says, “Oh, and Kat?”
I turn toward her. “Yes?”
“I know you and my son are...friends.” She says the last word like she ate a piece of bad fish. “He’ll be eighteen next month and capable of making his own decisions, but I’m going to ask this anyway.”
Oh, this is gonna be good. “And what’s that?”
“Well, with you leaving Perk Up, there’s really no need to continue your association with him. He needs to focus on his schooling this year and you seem to be a rather large…distraction in his life.”
“A distraction,” I repeat.
She stiffens her shoulders. “Yes, an unnecessary one in my opinion. I’m not stupid; I know what teenage boys think about all day long. I was your age once too, you know. But I don’t think Dylan needs to buy what you’re selling, if you catch my drift.”
