by Liz Czukas
“I can’t believe how dumb you are,” Sammi says as we gather our stuff from our lockers. She’s said it three times already. It’s the first time one of her insults has given me a little glow of pride.
I shrug. “I didn’t want him to get away.”
“What if he’d had a gun?” Tyson says.
“You guys are the ones who ran after him in the first place,” I point out.
“We weren’t even sure he did anything wrong,” he retorts.
“Yeah, because innocent people usually run away from the cops,” Gabe says.
I point to Gabe. “Exactly. That’s what I was thinking.”
“You were not.” Sammi rolls her eyes.
I smile. I’m giddy, like I just hopped down from the summit of Everest.
“I still can’t believe Kris stole the money,” Micah says.
“I know,” I agree. “He was always so nice. I never would have guessed.”
“It’s always the ones you least suspect,” Gabe says.
“He’s not that nice,” Zaina reminds us.
I glance at her, but her face doesn’t show any emotion.
“Look on the bright side, Z,” Sammi says. “Dude got tased. He probably pissed himself.”
“I can’t believe he blamed us,” Tyson says. Solomon told us that the reason we’d all been detained at the store was that Kris had told him privately that he had reason to believe it was one of us.
“Asshole,” Sammi said.
“I just can’t believe Solomon believed him,” Zaina says.
“He is the owner’s son,” I remind her. “I’m sure Mr. Solomon was thinking about his job.”
“But why us?” Tyson says.
“He was probably trying to buy himself time to make a getaway,” Gabe reasoned. “Maybe he figured nothing would happen to us since he knew for a fact we hadn’t done it.”
“And he probably thought it wouldn’t matter what happened to us since we’re minors,” I add.
“I’m not,” Gabe says. “What a jerk.”
“What I don’t understand,” Zaina says, “is why he stayed here at the store after it was closed. He knew he stole the money. Why would he stay?”
“Because I asked him to.” Mr. Solomon startles us all, speaking from the door to the Manager’s Office. “I thought it would be helpful for you all to have a familiar face.”
“I can’t believe he stayed,” Gabe says.
“Well, obviously he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed.” Sammi crosses her arms. “He stole a bunch of charity money from his own father’s company.”
“And kept marked bills in his pocket,” I say.
Solomon sighs. “He always seemed like a good employee. This is quite a blow.”
“Sorry, Mr. Solomon,” Micah says.
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have kept you here on one person’s word. It’s Christmas Eve, for heaven’s sake.”
“It’s all right,” Gabe says.
“I know this won’t make up for keeping you here, but why don’t you each take something from the bakery for your families? My treat.”
There are general sounds of agreement and thanks, and he smiles.
“I’ll go turn the lights on in that area.”
I wind my scarf around my neck. “Thanks again for taking care of me earlier, you guys.”
“No problem.” Tyson hooks his thumbs in his pockets and gives me a look that reminds me of my mother when she doesn’t approve of something. “Just don’t ever try to hide that stuff from us again.”
“Yeah, really,” Gabe agrees.
“We don’t want you to get sick,” Zaina says.
“I’m sorry. I just . . . people act weird when they find out.”
“People are weird,” Sammi says.
“Well, you are.” Gabe knocks her gently with his elbow.
She shakes her head at him. “Remind me to kick your ass later.”
“You’ll have to catch me first.” He goes into a low stance, like he’s guarding her in basketball, dodging from side to side while she stands still, regarding him with amusement.
“Come on, hero, let’s go get some free cake.”
They walk ahead of the rest of us as we go toward the bakery to meet Solomon. Tyson carries my mom’s ham for me, which slows him down. I hang back with him—it’s my ham, after all—but after a second, he catches me by the elbow to slow me until the others are practically out of sight. I look at him, curious.
“Before, in the cooler?” he says.
The familiar feeling of heat rushes into my face. So I guess my journey toward general badassery isn’t quite complete. I swallow hard. “Yeah, about that. I know you probably didn’t want me to—you know. It was just—”
“Why would you think that?” he interrupts, looking 100 percent confused.
“Wait . . . what?” The others are around the corner now, leaving us alone in the dark Produce department. It smells like apples and damp cardboard.
He shakes his head and shifts the ham under one arm, freeing up a hand to push his glasses up. “What I was trying to say before was that I liked it.”
Self-conscious, I look down, but I can’t help smiling. “Really?”
“Except—”
Oh no. All the heat drains from my face in an instant.
He shifts to lower the ham to the floor. “—I should have done it first.”
My heart roars to life again. “Yeah?”
He catches my arm by the elbow and pulls me closer. Then he slides his arms around my waist and bends to kiss me.
It’s so much better not sitting on the floor of a cold storage warehouse. I struggle to keep my knees from buckling as every nerve in my body sizzles and jumps.
Tyson doesn’t kiss me for long, but my head is spinning when he stops. I look up at him, giggling for no good reason.
“So, do you want a ride home?” I ask.
He smiles. “Definitely.”
“Okay, but you have to carry the ham.”
He laughs. “As you wish.”
Chapter 22
TOP TEN WEIRDEST THINGS TO EVER HAPPEN IN GOODFOODS MARKET*
(As compiled by Chloe Novak, Tyson Scott, Micah Yoder, Sammi Baker, Zaina Malak, and Gabe Rossi)
10. When a group of people dressed like vampires came in and bought a bunch of meat.
9. The guy who tried to hold up one of the cashiers, but accidentally showed that his “gun” was actually a squirt gun so another customer just grabbed him.
8. The man who came in dressed in a silver suit, said he was from the future, and demanded to know where we kept the nutrition tablets.
7. The man who paid his entire grocery bill—$215.56—in coins.
6. The stocker who quit in the middle of his shift after setting off a cherry bomb in a gallon of milk.
5. The woman who put her dog in a dress and drove her around the store sitting in the child seat. And when Kris tried to enforce the “No Dogs” policy, she claimed he was a service dog that helped her with her depression.
4. The customer who slapped the other shift manager, Randy, in the face.
3. When Gabe assaulted the Salvation Army bell ringer.
2. The woman who ate chips and dip in the bathroom stall, then gave half a bottle of peppermint schnapps to Sammi.
1. The time Kris stole all the charity money, blamed us, ran from the cops on Christmas Eve, and we all saved the day.
*A work in progress
A few hours ago, I would have paid good money to be outside the building and ready to head home. Now, I feel almost reluctant to leave everyone.
Tyson is coming with me, of course, and he stands beside me with my ham under one arm, and his other hand against my back. I like the way it feels there, even if the slight contact makes it hard to concentrate.
Micah and Zaina, neither of whom drove, both need rides. Sammi is going to take Micah home, and Gabe’s taking Zaina.
This morning, I wou
ld never have imagined Sammi submitting to being in an enclosed space with Micah for the entirety of a car ride. It has definitely been a strange day.
And still we all linger in the lot, despite the frigid air. The frozen rain cleared off at some point, leaving the sky a deep, velvety black, pinpointed with stars. Our breathing makes cloud after cloud of vapor that fades into the dark.
“It’s a good night to look for Santa Claus,” I say, thinking of younger years when I’d spent Christmas Eve craning my neck at the sky.
“My sister must be loving this,” Micah says.
That makes me think of my brother, home from college, and my mother, probably wringing her hands with worry over what, if anything, I’ve eaten since I left this morning. Not to mention the whereabouts of her ham. When I tell her about the day, I’m definitely going to leave out the part where I almost passed out from low blood sugar.
“I should go,” I say at last.
“We all should,” Tyson agrees.
We say good-bye to one another. A few Merry Christmases drift over the roofs of the cars as we open doors. Micah asks when everyone is working again and we tell him. No one is working tomorrow, obviously, and only Tyson and Sammi are on the day after that. I feel a strange sense of loneliness thinking of not seeing these people again for a while.
Tyson knows the deal with my car from previous rides home, so he gets in first and reaches across to release the latch on my side. It’s nice not to crawl across the front. When I turn the engine over, I smile at him, and he reaches out to squeeze my hand. Even with gloves on, the warmth of his palm reaches mine and I feel the urge to giggle again.
Instead, I have to take my hand back for a moment to back out of my parking space. Gabe is the first in line with Sammi queued behind him to pull out of the lot, but the brake lights on Gabe’s car are still lit. Suddenly, the door opens and he gets out.
My finger finds the switch to let my window down, wondering what Gabe has to say, but he stops at Sammi’s window first and taps on it until she rolls it down.
It’s hard to hear anything from where we’re idling, but it’s not hard to figure out what’s happening when Gabe leans in the window. My headlights catch their silhouettes as she turns her head slightly. They are unmistakably kissing.
“Oh my God!” My glasses slide down my nose as I whip my head to look at Tyson. “Did you see that?”
“I saw.”
“What did—when did—wha . . . ?” I stammer.
Gabe pulls back, resting his elbows on the window frame for a second. He smiles, nods, gives a little salute to Micah, and straightens up. Holding up a hand to block the glare of my headlights from his eyes, he trots toward us.
My window is already down, so he just bends slightly to look through the opening at us.
“So, I’m thinking we should probably hang out. You guys wanna come by my house? Maybe the day after tomorrow? When Tyce and Sammi are done with work?”
It’s the last thing I expected. “Um . . . sure.”
“Gimme your number,” he says. “I’ll text you the address.” He opens his phone and hands it to me to type in my info.
I do, even though I’m still a little stunned, and pass it to Tyson.
Tyson takes the phone, but ducks to look at him. “What the hell was that?” He points to Sammi’s car.
Gabe shrugs. “Just something I had to do.”
“But—” I start, but I can’t finish. I have no idea what to say.
Tyson makes a dismissive sound, but types in his number and hands the phone back to Gabe.
“Merry Christmas, you guys,” he says.
“Merry Christmas,” I say, my mind still running on autopilot.
He jogs back to his own car, thumping his fist lightly on Sammi’s window as he passes her. I strain to see her through the rear window, but she’s too hidden behind the headrest. I can’t see Micah, either.
“That was . . . weird,” Tyson says.
“You could say that.” I nod, watching the brake lights dim as Gabe puts his car into gear and cruises away from the lot. Sammi is quick to follow, her car going in the opposite direction.
“What the hell went down in that cooler today?” he wonders.
“I have no idea.”
“Weird.”
“So, like, are we all going to be friends now?” I ask.
Tyson reaches across to take my hand again. “I don’t know. Maybe. Might be worth a try, right?”
I think about that.
I think about Sammi’s attitude, and Micah’s naive genius, and Zaina’s shyness. I think of how they all rallied to take care of me, and how none of them treated me any different when it was over. I think of how lonely I’ve been since I started at my new school. I think about how I don’t really want to leave, even after all these hours together. Even with my family waiting at home.
I think a lot about Tyson, and how he kissed me the second time, and how maybe I hadn’t been so off base with my crush after all. I think about the way I’ve never told my parents I take Tyson home sometimes, knowing they’d worry about me driving around someone they didn’t know, about the “bad” parts of town that are so much closer to his neighborhood than mine, about me being alone with a boy of any kind.
I think I’m going to have to tell them about him when I get home. Him and all of it. They’re not going to be thrilled at first, but maybe they’ll see that I can take care of myself after all.
Maybe things can finally change. At least a little bit. Maybe I can finally stop being their precious, broken baby girl.
It’s worth a try, right?
“Yeah, I think it is,” I say finally.
“Me too,” Tyson says.
When I pull up to the curb outside Tyson’s house, he leans across, cupping my cheek to pull me close and kiss me once more. And if it took being under pseudoarrest in a grocery store on Christmas Eve for that to happen, it was all worth it.
THINGS THAT ARE BETTER THAN KISSING TYSON SCOTT
1. Kissing him again
Acknowledgments
TOP TEN THANK-YOUS TO EVERYONE WHO KEPT ME SANE AND/OR PROVIDED A HELMET AND COOKIES WHEN SANE WASN’T ATTAINABLE
1. My editor, Erica Sussman, who somehow knew what I was trying to do even though my first efforts were so far off, they might as well have been written in hieroglyphics. Thanks also to the entire team at HarperTeen, including Tyler Infinger, the wonderfully crazy people on the Epic Reads team, the art department, which is full of geniuses, and the entire marketing team, especially Alison Lisnow.
2. Laura Bradford, super agent, for being the savvy one so I can live in blissful naïveté.
3. The earliest inklings of this story were nurtured into a workable idea through a careful combination of grocery store experience, enthusiasm, and helpless laughter by the lovely Jessica Souders, who did it all behind the wheel of a rental car with the world’s stupidest GPS.
4. Heather Whitley helped me find the way, as ever. Even when I forget to email her back because I keep my brain in a colander when I’m not using it.
5. The Wednesday Night Barnes & Noble Crew bore witness to much head-to-keyboard and face-smushing anxiety. Thank you, ladies, for telling me I could do it anyway, especially Jill Brevers, Barb Britton, Liz Kreger, Liz Lincoln, Karen Miller, Betsy Norman, and Sandee Turriff.
6. The Class of 2k14 (Varsha Bajaj, Kate Bassett, Rebecca Behrens, Crystal Chan, Stephanie Diaz, Stefanie Gaither, Tracy Holczer, Christine Kohler, Melissa Landers, R. C. Lewis, Lauren Magaziner, Nicole Maggi, Elizabeth May, Amy K. Nichols, Kristin Rae, Gayle Rosengren, Lisa Ann Scott, Carmella Van Vleet, Amy Zhang) provided invaluable support, sympathy, and cheerleading.
7. My earliest readers include Cathy Weishan; Lindsay, Mary, and Evan Maruszewski; Sarah Horne; and Anne Williams. You guys are the best cheerleaders around.
8. To everyone who gave me insight into the fascinating world of grocery stores and shared all their tales of weirdness in retail. Be nice to the people who wo
rk where you shop, you guys. Seriously.
9. The basic layout of my fictionalized GoodFoods owes itself almost entirely to my local grocery store, Metro Market. I’d like to give a special thank-you to the hardworking crew of the store who just kept smiling as I stood on tiptoe, peering into the Employees Only sections, eavesdropping on conversations, and just generally being a creeper. You guys are awesome for not throwing me out. And for your cookies. Your cookies are the fricking best thing on Earth.
10. To my amazing family. We survived another one, you guys! Thanks for putting up with strange questions, my vacant stare, and the poor quality of housekeeping. I couldn’t do this without you, even if you don’t always know that.
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About the Author
LIZ CZUKAS is a freelance writer living outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin. She is also the author of Ask Again Later. She collects college degrees she doesn’t use, types too loud, and always has a song stuck in her head. You can visit her online at www.lizczukas.com.
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Books by Liz Czukas
Ask Again Later
Credits
Cover art © 2014 by Alison Carmichael
Cover image © 2014 NinaMalyna ShutterStock.com
Cover design by Michelle Taormina
Copyright
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
Top Ten Clues You’re Clueless
Copyright © 2014 by Liz Czukas
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