Page 68 of The Curse Workers


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It feels like the whole world has turned upside down. There aren’t any more rules.

“Hey,” I say to Sam, because if the world’s gone crazy, then I guess I can do whatever I want. “Guess what? I’m a worker.”

He stares at me, openmouthed. Lila jerks to her feet.

“You can’t tell him that,” she says.

“Why not?” I ask, then turn to him. “I didn’t have any idea until yesterday. Wacky, right?”

“What kind?” he manages to squeak out.

“If you tell him that,” Lila says, “I’m going to kill you, but first I’m going to kill him.”

“Consider the question retracted,” Sam says, holding his hands out in a peace offering.

Some of my clothes are still in the drawers and in the closet. I grab what I need, then head for the library to take out a loan from my business.

* * *

We walk down to the corner store where all the Wallingford students go to shoplift gum. Lila picks out a bottle of shampoo, some soap, an enormous cup of coffee, and three bars of chocolate. I pay.

The owner, Mr. Gazonas, smiles at me. “He’s a good kid,” he tells Lila. “Polite. No stealing. Not like the other kids who come in here. Hang on to this one.”

That makes me laugh.

I lean against the wall outside. “Do you want to call your mom?”

Lila shakes her head. “With all the gossip down in Carney? No way. I don’t want anyone but my father to know I’m back.”

I nod slowly. “So we call him, then.”

“I need to take a shower first,” Lila says, winding the plastic handle of the bag around her wrist. She has rolled up a pair of my dress slacks and looks homeless in them, the baggy shirt, and some lace-up boots she found in the back of my closet.

I dial the same cab company that gave us a lift over here. “We don’t have any place to clean up,” I say.

“Hotel room,” she tells me.

There’s a hotel not too far a walk from where we’re standing, a nice basic place that parents stay at sometimes, but it’s not going to work. “Believe me, they are not going to let the two of us get a room. Kids try all the time.”

She shrugs.

I hang up on the dispatcher. “Fine,” I say. I’m thinking of how when the rooms get cleaned, the doors are open. We’re never going to be able to get a room, but we might be able to steal one for a shower if we get lucky.

As we start across the parking lot, I see Audrey with two of her friends, Stacey and Jenna. Stacey gives me the finger. Jenna nudges Audrey with her elbow. I know I should look away, but I don’t. Audrey lifts her head. Her eyes are shadowed.

“Do you know her?” Lila asks.

“Yeah,” I say, and finally turn toward the hotel.

“She’s pretty,” says Lila.

“Yeah,” I say again, and jam my hands in my pockets, deep—gloved fingers against the crease.

Lila keeps looking back. “I bet she’s got a shower.”

* * *

Here’s another thing Mom told me over and over about scams. The first thing you have to get is the mark’s confidence, but it’s always more convincing when someone other than you suggests the score to the mark. That’s why most confidence schemes demand a partner.

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