by Cassie Mae
It seems like things are in slow motion as I try to concentrate on the anatomy of her neck and shoulders, and not the fact that her skin is riddled with goose bumps. I want to close my eyes so I’m forced to focus on untying those knots, but I can’t stop watching her completely melt underneath my hands.
When I run my thumb up the left side of her neck, I actually feel the last bit of stress leave her body. She lets out a gush of air, along with the words, “Oh my…” I take my hands off her before I lose control of them, and she falls on the table.
I can’t believe I had the guts to do that, but I’m glad I did. And it’s too quiet now, so I quickly get back to tossing chairs upside down on the tables.
“Thanks, Seth,” she semi-whispers as she sits up.
“Yeahmmmhmm.” I have got to learn how to form proper words.
She stands and goes back to wiping tables, but she’s got this relaxed smile in place of the tight jaw she had before. It makes me grin and I get a little hot in the cheeks.
When she gets close enough, she lightly whips me in the butt with her towel. Our eyes connect, and I’m thinking real hard about kissing her again. But I don’t have the guts to do it.
She looks me up and down, shaking her head at me like she always does. Like I’m something much more than I am.
“Add massage therapist to your resume.”
Seriously, if practice is scheduled from 3:30 to 5:00, it should end at 5:00. Not 5:23.
Using my well-trained abilities of changing in the car, I throw on my work pants while stopped for a train.
“Come on. Come on,” I whine as I tap the steering wheel. “I don’t have time for this.”
The clock ticks to 5:29. I’m going to be late. Again. Loud sigh as I drop back into my seat. I could use another one of those massages from Seth. My gosh, it was amazing. Like, almost better than his kisses. And that is saying something. The boy is good at everything.
I focus straight ahead, not bothering to move my eyes with the train whizzing by. Everything in front of me blurs in a whirling contrast of colors. Kinda like my life.
Where has this school year gone? I mean, one minute it was September. The start of school, and a time when things are a little less crazy. National Honor Society is there, but not really. The yearbook people have meetings but no one attends them yet. Club soccer is in the fall as well, so I’m gone most weekends and there are practices during the week but club isn’t as serious as high school. And it always ends on time.
Enter getting a job at Jamba Juice. It was when I brought home the list of “required” attire for the club soccer team, and my father inhaled sharply, that I realized I was asking my parents to provide too much for me. Club soccer and basketball. Tournaments, overnight stays, uniforms, bags. Not to mention school supplies, clothes, drive-thru—because who really has time to stop home for dinner? —and the few things I would need for a costume in the musical. The least I could do is chip in.
But now, it’s all too much. Clearly, since I’m now on the Principal’s “watch list” due to my cheating scandal. I need to hit the “pause” button.
It’s April. I have no idea when I’ll have time for organizing the collages of pictures for the yearbook, making calls for the National Honor Society banquet, or homework.
Oh wait. I have time for homework now because Seth is helping me at my house after work. He has to help me after work because I have a strict curfew of nine and a “no friend” policy for another three weeks. Help on homework is an exception.
There is a long line of customers when I get in the door and they all turn to look at my entrance.
“Kate! Was wondering where you were!”
“How’s it going, Kate?”
“How many soccer games do you have to miss due to that stupid trig teacher?”
I answer as I make my way into the back. Harry comes out of his office, but I avert my eyes and clock in. There’s a lot of work to be done and no time to talk. Or get yelled at. Again.
“Hey there, buddy. How’s it going?”
Seth gives me a tired smile as he runs over to the smoothie maker. I scan the lobby, and the people still streaming in the door. Many from East, but some from the surrounding community as well. Let’s get ‘er done.
I take the orders, get the snacks and baked goods, and bark out the finished orders while Seth makes the smoothies. We’re a well-oiled machine, the two of us. The other two employees, including Harry, scurry around the lobby, clearing off tables once they’re vacated to make room for the newcomers.
“Great job with the basketball season, Kate. First at State and first-team all-academic too. Can’t get much better than that.”
“Thanks, Jimmy.” I smile at the guy who will be the valedictorian of this year’s senior class and try not to rush him, even though I need to rush him. “It was a good season. The team did a great job.”
“Sure, the team.” Jimmy winks and flicks the blond hair out of his eyes.
I laugh a bit, then say, “So what can I get for you?”
“Aloha Pineapple, please.”
I yell the order to Seth and, after taking Jimmy’s money, gesture for him to move to the side. In typical Jimmy fashion, he keeps talking, but now his target is Seth.
“Seth, my man! Real great job on the play last month.”
I sneak a peek over my shoulder and watch as Seth’s face turns red. And then my eyes flit down and note his abs under the orange Jamba shirt. And I can’t help but notice how good he looks in his khakis.
I snap my eyes closed. I really have to stop doing that.
When I open my eyes, they land on Seth’s hands, making quick work of the ingredients he’s mixing. Remembering the massage…those are some really good hands.
Kate! Stop checking out your friend at work!
“Uh, thanks.” Seth flicks his hair out of his eyes so he can see Jimmy, only to have it fall back in place.
Jimmy leans on the counter and “whispers” to Seth, who’s dumping the smoothie into the cup. “So, what’s it like to kiss Kate Ryan?”
I shake my head. Why is everyone so obsessed with this? Admittedly, it’s been difficult to get out of my head, but honestly? If they’re not gossiping about “Will and Ado Annie” sharing a kiss, then they’re bringing up my cheating. Talk about someone else.
Focusing on the next person in line, I ask, “What can I get you?” I freeze when I look up and Scott is there.
“Scott.” It comes out kinda breathy, because I’m shocked he has the balls to come in here after what he did to Seth.
Don’t lose it, Kate. Don’t lose it.
“Hey, we need to talk.”
“Now?” I look over his shoulder at the long line.
“I figure you can’t blow me off if I come here.” His eyes slide to Seth who is subtly rubbing the spot on his forehead that met the wall. Scott walks down the counter toward him and it’s as if no one in the lobby is breathing. Most people heard at least one version of what happened at that party.
“Seth, look man, I’m really sorry. I lost it, what with the drinking,” he says this part with a low voice, eyes searching for people who might care, “and well…” now his eyes move to me. I feel my jaw clench, and remember Seth’s crumpled form on Suzi’s floor.
Keep it together. Don’t make a scene.
Scott clears his throat. “Well, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” He holds out his hand for Seth to shake. “Are we good?”
Seth looks at me, his eyes lingering. I’m not sure why he’s focusing on me. Does he expect me to say something?
Finally, he turns to Scott, removes his gloves, and places his hand in his. “It’s all right, Scott. But my head would prefer if it never met a wall again.”
They both laugh a little, all of it fake. Then Scott says, “It’s a deal.” He turns and leaves without buying anything. “See you later, Kate.”
I’m fuming. It’s not that I think Seth shouldn’t have forgiven him. Scott did at least have the
balls to finally come in here and apologize. But I can’t help but think he chose Jamba for this apology on purpose. He’s been kind of an outcast since he beat up Seth. No doubt this is his move to get back on the social ladder.
Seth goes back to work, his somewhat sour-looking face assuring me he’s acting normally. I guess I can shake this off and move on, too.
I turn back to the line and ask, “What can I get for you?”
The next hour and a half flies by. Seth never stops making smoothies and I never stop talking. By the time seven-thirty rolls around and the last person in line has been served, Seth and I both lean against the counter in utter exhaustion.
“I don’t need to do that again.” I look at Seth. He nods, takes his visor off and runs his hand through his hair, which is a little damp since it’s so flippin’ hot in here. It reminds me of the night of the party, when I was holding his head up in my car. How scared I was. How soft his hair was. My stomach seems to remember too because it’s jumping like crazy.
I hold up my fist. “We did good, buddy. Pound it.”
Finally he laughs, then meets my fist like he always does. It’s so good to see him. To spend time with him.
“So, you okay with how things went down with Scott? It was kinda weird he just showed—”
“Kate, can I see you in my office, please?” Harry calls from the back of the store.
I roll my eyes and grin, which causes Seth to give a tired smile. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”
Once I’m in Harry’s office I take a deep breath and for the millionth time say, “Practice ran late, again. I’m so sorry, Harry. If everything would only—”
“You’re fired, Kate.”
Harry’s looking at me through those big glasses. And even though he isn’t known for his sense of humor, I have to think he’s joking. Didn’t he see how awesome Seth and I worked together out there? Even with Scott making an appearance. We’re the perfect team—he wouldn’t split that up.
So even though his expression doesn’t suggest he’s pulling my leg, I laugh anyway.
“Wow, that’s kind of mean, Harry. Had me going for a little bit there.”
“I’m serious.” He sighs loudly and rubs his eyes under his glasses before continuing. “I can’t depend on you to be here. Half the time you’re asking someone to work for you, and the other half you’re late. I can’t run a business like that.”
Wow. Okay. Did not see that one coming. It’s not like I can argue, though.
“Um, all right. Do you want me to stay to close up?”
“Nah, I think we’ve got it.” Harry looks back at his computer where he’s got some sort of ordering system up. As I turn to leave he clears his throat. “Look, Kate. You’re a good employee, when you’re here. You just can’t give the time that’s needed to apply yourself.”
That seems to be the theme of the month.
I turn to face my ex-boss. “Should I give you these now?” I pull on my shirt and tug at my visor.
“Just get ‘em to me whenever you can.”
“Okay,” I say. He looks a little sad when I leave, but mostly relieved. Either I was a real pain as an employee or he thought I would throw a fit when he gave me the news.
As I trudge to the lobby, I realize I’m not that sad. This was a good job, but I’ll find another. Maybe I can find one that’s a little more flexible with hours. I could also just wait until summer and get a job. I’ll have more time then.
There’s a tug at my lips as I emerge into the lobby. Getting fired might have been a good thing.
“So, what were you going to say before Harry dragged you back there?”
I freeze and my stomach tightens. When I turn to look at Seth, his smile vanishes. “Whoa. You okay?”
I was okay. Getting fired was a good thing. But…
“I got fired,” I find myself saying. It comes out quiet, like I’m embarrassed or something. But I’m not.
Seth’s eyes get big and he walks over to me. “You what? Harry fired you?”
Those gray eyes look so concerned. Like he’s sadder for me than I am. But now I am sad, even though a few seconds ago I wasn’t. And it’s not because of this job. Or because of the money I won’t be making. I surely won’t miss this uniform or spilling smoothie all over myself.
I’m sad because of Seth. Because we had the musical and now that is done. And we had work but now I’ve been banished. Where’s my time to see Seth?
“Yeah, Harry fired me.” I squeeze his shoulder. “You and I both know I deserve it.” My attempt at humor doesn’t work. He’s just peeking out from behind his brown hair. “I’ll still see you after work. Don’t ditch our study date.” I pinch him, which doesn’t get much reaction either, and leave the store with Seth still watching me.
My reaction to being fired confuses me. The worst part is my lack of time with Seth. That seems odd because, while Seth is a good friend, I don’t see most of my good friends outside of our given shared interests. I rarely see Brit aside from basketball events. Kim is my best bud with club soccer, but it’s hard to find time to get together when that’s on hold for high-school soccer. My friends are situational, and I have always been fine with that.
Until now.
I spin around and rest my back against the Corolla. I’ve got an hour or so to kill until the store closes and my nine o’clock curfew. Crossing my arms, I look through the windows and see Seth still standing behind the counter, staring into space since no one is in the store. I wonder what he’s thinking. Probably nothing I could comprehend. A small laugh escapes my lips.
He’s most certainly not searching for any smidgen of time in his schedule to spend with me.
Kate’s house is so alive. I know it’s only 9:30 on a Friday night, but it’s a nut house compared to mine, which looks like no one’s lived and breathed there for years, at least until Shelby starts wailing. I can already hear high-pitched giggles as I’m climbing out of the car, a big booming crash from the TV, and a deep bass laugh that can only be Mr. Ryan laughing at whatever he’s watching.
I pull my Jamba shirt off and straighten the plain white tee I have on underneath. Then I pull on my MESA jacket. I don’t want to remind her even in the smallest, most innocent way—like wearing my uniform in front of her—about what happened tonight. Swiping at my sweaty hair, I press the doorbell. The TV goes on mute or pause, and the giggles stop.
“Someone’s at the door!” a squeaky voice shouts from somewhere through the upstairs window.
“I got it!” It’s unmistakably Kate, and suddenly my ears flame up and my heart pumps an extra beat…or two.
When the door swings open, I probably look like a freaky clown with how big my fake smile is. But she only laughs at me and sets her hands on my shoulders.
“Really, Seth, I’m okay.”
I try to laugh it off. “Yeah, of course you are.” I think she’s lying not only to me, but to herself, but I’m not going to push it if she doesn’t want to talk about it. I lift my trig book. “You ready?”
“Yup. Come on in.”
She brings me right to the kitchen, but I catch a glance at her dad and sister—the younger one, Becca. They’re sitting on the couch in the family room, Becca tapping away on her cell while curled into her father’s side. The corner of my mouth turns up, and Mr. Ryan catches my eye and gives me a small wave, which I return.
The kitchen smells like pizza, and when we sit at the table I see the empty boxes by the garbage can. I mentally make a note to toss them on my way out. It would be a nice way to pay her family back for what they did for me the night I got my face bashed in.
I slide out of my jacket, because Mom always tells me it’s rude to wear it when you’re inside other people’s houses, and I wish I had put on something besides the tight white tee I use as my work undershirt. I shift as I rub my sweaty palms on my khakis.
When I look at Kate, she’s sort of frozen over her backpack. Her fingers linger on the zipper, but they’re not mo
ving. My eyes move to hers.
She’s staring at me—and not at my face, but my torso. It instantly makes me feel buck naked. My head whips around to Mr. Ryan and Becca, to see if I’m really as exposed as Kate’s making me feel.
“Uh…” I say, turning my gaze back to her.
She blinks about three times real fast, and then shakes her head, finally getting the zipper open on her backpack.
“Sorry, spaced out for a second,” she says.
“That’s okay.” I’m not even sure she hears me. I scoot my chair in and slouch down, hiding as much of my body as possible. I’ll be happy when I can put that jacket back on without being rude.
Kate blows out a breath and slams her textbook on the table. “Okay, Genius Man, teach me all you know.”
About a half-hour into our studying, Kate falls face-first into the heart of the text.
“Ugh!”
I laugh and shake her shoulder so she looks at me. “Need a break?”
“No.” She sits up again and puts her pencil on her notepad. “I have to get this. I don’t know when I’ll be able to go over this stuff with you again.”
I blow out a breath. Kate looks beat. Like she’s ready to jump in bed and sleep for a thousand years. That, and there’s something going through her expression every time she looks at me, which is a lot less than normal, I think. She’ll smile, but then it’ll fade, she’ll shake her head and go back to her book. I don’t know what’s going on, but I really don’t think she’s as okay as she’s telling me.
Her eyes flutter up to mine again and I study her. She’s trying to smile, but it’s not convincing. Those big brown eyes and those lips are saying everything she’s not.
She’s sad. Frustrated. Upset. Tired. Very, very, very tired.
I move my gaze from hers to over my shoulder, where Becca and Mr. Ryan are still sitting. Gulping, I slide my chair out and stand, not bothering to look at Kate and the confusion that must be on her face.
“Uh, Becca?” I ask, hoping I’m not interrupting anything important. Her back straightens, and she settles her phone in her lap, fingers still hovering over the keyboard. I give her a half-smile. “D-Do you have any sidewalk chalk?”
