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Scramblingaround my chair,Isprint out of the office.Ifmy friend so much asbreatheson aBurberrybag, we’ll be in debt for the rest of our sorry lives.Whenhe hears my footsteps,Beck’swhole face brightens. “Yo.”Hespins to face me and sashays with the grace of a water buffalo, showing off the handbags dangling from each shoulder. “WhatshouldIget, boss?Iwant the one that makes my ass look bigger.”
“No, no, no.”Isnatch one away and cradle it in my arms. “Thisis worth three grand, you absolute hunk of baloney.”
Hegoes visibly pale and sets the other bag back on the display like it’s a newborn baby. “Ididn’t touch anything.”
“Getthe hell out,Beck.Whatare you doing?”
“Icame to pick you up.”Hesticks out his lower lip, his eyes sulky. “Thoughtyou might want to vent, if it didn’t go well.”
“Pleaseleave.I’llbe out in a minute.”WhenIpoint to the parking lot, my stomach drops.Thedipshit parked ourCivicright in front of the huge windows, with the wordCUNTscratched across the hood in full view. “Don’tstand next to the car,”Iadd in a hiss. “Goover by the trees or something.”
Holdingup his hands in surrender, he takes a step back. “I’mgonna need a damn paper and pen if you keep adding instructions.”
Ipoint even more firmly at him, then the door asRichard’sshoes click up behind me.Withone last bratty eye roll,Beckstomps out.
“Isthere a problem?”Mypotential new boss offers me a worried glance asIset the other handbag back on its stand.Maybehe thinksIhave a stalker.Ido, butIguess it’s consensual.
“No, he’s giving me a ride home.Ireally am sorry;Iforgot to tell him to wait elsewhere.”
Tomy surprise, the man smiles teasingly. “We’renot homophobic around here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Mygod–he’s known me for twenty minutes and he assumes that’s the kind of manI’ddate.Imust have really fucked up my interview.Myface is burning. “Oh, no.It’snot–Ididn’t–”Istammer some random syllables and trail off.I’mso gladBeckisn’t here for this. “He’s…I…um.Whatwere we talking about?”
Richardclaps his hands together like he’s releasing me from my misery. “You’regreat,Dallas.Makingthat fashion profile was genius.I’dlike to have you come in for a month on probation as an assistant manager–paid, of course.Ifwe’re a good fit for each other, we can take the next step.Talkit over with your, uh, friend and give me a call if you’re interested.”
Igape at him.Hewas supposed to saythank you, but no.ThenIsayIunderstandand go home and cry while stuffing my face with sugar.Isaved some cookies and everything.Butinstead he’s waiting with a patient smile for me to speak. “Thankyou so much, sir,”Imanage finally. “So, so much.Ifit’s alright with you,I’dlike to accept right now.”Ihaven’t quit my grocery store job yet, butIdon’t care.I’mthe only employee who showed up on time and didn’t shoot drugs in the bathroom, soI’mconfident they’ll take me back if this doesn’t work out.
Richardchuckles at my lack of chill. “Alrightthen.Comeback tomorrow after lunch and we’ll start on paperwork and some training.”
Ishake his hand, definitely too firmly this time, and make a break for the door beforeIcan make things weird again.Hot, dry air replaces the air conditioning asIstep into the late afternoon sun.Beckis sulking over by the trees, his hands jammed into his back pockets as he draws lines in the dirt with his shoe.
WhenIwhistle, he turns around. “Ihope that guy gave you something good for all that ass licking.”
Ijust pump my fists over my head, break into a run, and launch myself atBeck.Hemanages to catch me with a grunt and only a couple of steps backward.Iwrap my arms around his neck as he spins in a circle, letting my feet swing out behind me before he sets me down. “Yougot it?” he asks quietly against my ear.WhenInod, he squeezes me tighter. “Goodboy.Iknew you would.”
Gaspingfor breath,Istep back and fix my hair.IfRichardsaw that, he’ll have a field day with his conspiracy theories. “I’msorryIthrew you out.Iwasreallynervous.”
Hecocks his head, his searing green eyes puzzled. “Why?”
“Why?”Ican’t help snorting. “Becausethis is my first decent job andIwant it to be perfect so we can stop eating beans every day.”
Hisscruffy jaw tightens, and he glares at the building. “Didthat fucker say you weren’t perfect?”
“No, no.”Istep between him and the door, just in case. “He’sbeen incredibly nice to me.Hethought we were secretly dating.”
Beckraises his eyebrows, still gazing in the direction of the store, and doesn’t say anything.Finally, his stare returns to assess the maroon skinny jeans and gray turtleneck sweaterIspent hours deciding on. “Youlook good,Dal,” he murmurs. “Likeyou belong in there.”
Istudy him, trying to figure out if he’s happy or unhappy or something in between, but he just reaches around and pulls out my hair tie, sending my braid unraveling around my shoulders.
Richardgave me a few bucks to cover gas for my trip.Iwas going to save it for an emergency, but fuck it.Aswe head for the car,Ihold up the cash between two fingers. “Wantto grab ice cream on the way back?”
Beckstudies me across the dented roof of the car, the sun catching bright and pale in his hair.Theshadows in his face melt back into a genuine smile. “Youcould twist my arm.”
Wedrive through aDairyQueen, then park overlooking the grimy concrete buildings of southFortHolden, crouched between us and the towering mountains.Kickingoff my shoes,Iwedge my socked feet up on the dashboard between the trash and oldHappyMealtoysIcan’t getBeckorScoutto throw away.
Ialways nibble each side of my cone evenly, watching for drips.Beckinhales the ice cream in two bites, then tears through the cone like a rabid beaver.SometimesIgive him the rest of mine for seconds, but todayIfeel likeIearned it.
Lickinghis fingers clean with a satisfied sigh, he slides down in his seat and leans over until his heavy head is resting on my shoulder.Irub my cheek idly against his hair, then go back to picking at my cone whileBeckdozes in the warmth.Inmoments like this, everything about our friendship feels like destiny.Likeit was written into the universe that a reckless punk from the worst part of town and a spoiled kid from the suburbs would end up here together, eating ice cream in the sun.I’ddie for any of my friends, butBeckholds some deeper part of meIcan’t express.He’sthe homeIthoughtI’dnever have again whenHaydenchased me away.
