We Are the Stars

by Teagan Hunter

“Be right back.”

  She disappears and I pull out my wallet, throwing out a ten to cover the drink and me taking up a booth for way too long.

  I’ve been here for almost an hour and I’ve yet to spot Carsen. He’s evidently not working today. After my trip down horror lane last night, I had to come back and see him. He needs to know I’m on his side, that I’m sorry for bringing my asshole friend here yesterday. He didn’t deserve that, and since I refuse to step foot in Vern’s with Jase again, it’s my job to let Carsen know.

  “Here ya go. No rush, dear.” The waitress drops off the check and to-go drink.

  “Ma’am?” I ask as she begins to leave.

  “Uh huh?”

  “Is, uh, is that boy who was working yesterday around today?”

  Her eyes fall into slits, and I know full well she remembers what happened yesterday, how Carsen freaked out in the kitchen and we bailed on our lunch.

  “No,” she says, shaking her head. “He’s off today. Can I help you with something?”

  “No. I wanted to, uh, apologize. My friend was a dick and he didn’t deserve any of that.”

  The waitress, whose nametag says Joy, perks up. “I can pass that along to him, if you’d like.”

  “I’d rather tell him in person.”

  “I’m not sure how he’d react to that.”

  “Does he work tomorrow?”

  Huffing at my persistence, she throws a hand onto her hip. Her gum pops in her mouth again and it’s just as annoying now at it was yesterday. “At six AM.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Her eyes shine with surprise, but she doesn’t relax her stance. “I’ll warn him.”

  “I won’t blame you.” She turns away with a smile.

  I grab my drink and head out, turning left once I exit the diner. I parked my car at the bowling alley earlier since it’s my first day on the job, and then I walked down to Vern’s so I could try to catch Carsen. Being able to walk everywhere is the best part of living in such a small town.

  The walk back doesn’t take long and before I know it, I’m pulling open the door. I stand in the entrance, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I haven’t worked outside of the campus library since I was in high school, so my nerves are starting to eat at me.

  The smell is the first thing I notice. The scent of fresh lemon and bleach hits you like a wave, not necessarily what you’d expect from an old, gritty bowling alley. I glance around, trying to find the owner so I can get started, but I’m coming up empty.

  I take a few hesitant steps farther into the building. “Hello?” I call out.

  “We’re closed! Come back in an hour!” a man’s angry voice bounces back.

  “Um, I work here?”

  I hear muttering and cursing and a few things being banged around. I have no idea where the sound is coming from.

  Then, from the corner of the building, someone rips open the ajar door and emerges hastily. He stops, still in the shadows.

  “You work here?” the guy asks.

  “This is my first day.”

  “Bryan never mentioned anyone starting today.”

  I huff. “I was told to be here at seven AM today.”

  He moves closer, stepping into the light. “Well, aren’t you punctual. It’s seven on the dot.”

  My entire body runs cold then hot.

  Carsen is standing in front of me.

  And he looks pissed.

  “You.” His voice is accusatory, almost as much as it was the first time we went through this routine.

  “Me,” I tell him.

  “You work here?” He crosses his arms over his chest and arches a brow. With the way he’s standing and how high he towers over me, he’s almost scary.

  Almost.

  “Apparently.”

  He grins, and it borders on dangerous. “You sure you want to work with a… What did your friend call me again? Oh, yeah, a murderer.”

  His words are meant to be menacing, but all I can see are the images from last night. How broken and miserable he looked. The ache in his gaze, the twist of his face, the tears that streaked down his cheeks. He looked so…desolate.

  Carsen doesn’t frighten me. He makes me sad.

  “I’m sure.”

  He leans back, seemingly caught unaware by those two words, like that wasn’t what he thought he’d hear. His brows slam closer together, if that is even possible, and I can see the muscles jump in his toned biceps. “Follow me,” he instructs in a clipped tone before spinning on his heel and retreating to where he came from.

  I glance around the dimly lit area, marginally creeped out by the dark corners amongst the hazy lights. He leads us back to a storage room of sorts and winds through the stacks of boxes lining the floor in front of shelf after shelf of shoes and bowling balls until he reaches a door at the back that’s obscured by the clutter.

  Before he opens the door, he glances back at me. “You sure you’re supposed to be here now? Bryan would have warned me if it was today.”

  “I’m certain I understood his simple instruction to be here at seven on this very day.”

  Carsen glowers at the sarcasm lacing my words before wrenching the door open and allowing it to slam against the wall.

  “The door has feelings too, you know.”

  He mutters something indistinct, but I grin anyway, knowing I won that little battle of ours.

  “What size are you?”

  I smirk at him, darting my eyes toward his crotch. “Now, now, I wouldn’t ask you that, so why would you ask me?”

  He pins me with an irritated stare, not finding anything I say amusing. “Trust me, you’re not going to be jealous of all four inches I’m packing. Now, what size shirt do you wear? Small or medium?”

  “Medium, please.”

  He grumbles again as he steps into the room and grabs an old-school bowling shirt from the rack. I follow behind him, barely catching the material he tosses over his shoulder. I slip my arms through the shirt—which is just like the one he’s wearing—opting to leave it unbuttoned and flowing open, as his is.

  I watch him move through the small area, noting how his button-up clings to his muscles, showing off how tight he’s wound right now.

  “This is the break room. You get two fifteen-minute respites a shift.”

  “Every shift? No matter how long it is?”

  “That’s what I said.” When I don’t argue, he continues. “I don’t know what Bryan expects me to do with you today. I can’t suitably train you on anything since we’re going to be slammed.”

  “Slammed? Why?”

  He raises a brow and purses his lips. “Because it’s Sunday.”

  “That explains it so well.”

  “Games are buy one, get one free today. Shoe rentals are half off. It’s the busiest day of the week.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” he sneers. “I’m sure you just filled out random applications anywhere you could and took the first job you were offered.”

  “Actually,” I tell him, putting my hands on my hips, “this wasn’t the first job I was offered. I turned down two others. I’ve had an application in here for months.”

  “Bullshit. Bryan didn’t say a word.”

  “He doesn’t tell you much, huh? Guess you aren’t as trusted as you think.”

  His jaw ticks and his eyes fall into slits. “Listen, girl—”

  “Elliott is fine,” I interrupt.

  “Elliott? That’s your name?”

  “There a problem with it?”

  “No. Surprisingly, it fits you,” he admits, his voice soft and quiet.

  It’s the first nice thing he’s said to me since I met him, and it wasn’t all that nice.

  “Now that we have that out of the way…”

  “Right.” He clears his throat. “I suppose I’ll have you shadow me behind the counter today. Should be easy enough.” Brushing past me, he walks out of the storage room, expecting m
e to follow him like a lost puppy. Sadly, I do. “With any luck, you’ll get the hang of things fast so I can get my side work done,” he says over his shoulder.

  “I’m not inept.”

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  “You implied it.”

  “I said I had other shit to do besides babysit the newbie. I didn’t say you weren’t competent.”

  “You implied as much and you know it.”

  Carsen comes to a screeching halt, swinging around to face me. His stony eyes latch onto mine and his brows form a foreboding arch. “Don’t tell me what I mean to say, Elliott. I’ve had enough of that in my life. When I say I mean I have other shit to do besides teach you how to run the front desk, I simply mean just that. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  His tone is heavy, dark.

  “Got it?”

  “I got it, Carsen.”

  The moment his name leaves my lips, he tenses. There’s a thick moment hanging between us where neither of us moves. Carsen stares at me; I stare back. We don’t blink, don’t speak. We…stand there.

  The recovery is quick on his end, and then he’s leading us behind the front counter. I follow in a haze, unsure of what transpired just now.

  Whatever. No time to dwell. I need to keep up with whatever’s coming out of Carsen’s mouth before he thinks I’m stupid or something.

  “…then you’ll hit this button, get their size, and hand them the shoes. Understand?”

  “Yep.”

  He raises a bushy brow, unconvinced I’m following along, and continues with his instructions. “From there you’ll confirm their purchase, hit this total button, and take the payment.” He goes on to explain how to run cash or card and I nod in all the appropriate places. This is all easy, but he’s explaining it to me slowly, like I’m a child. His tone makes it hard not to sass back or roll my eyes.

  Fingers snap in front of my face.

  “Get lost?”

  “No. I’m very clear on what needs to be done.”

  “Sure you are. I need to go finish up in the back room. Can you handle wiping down the lanes and computers?”

  Don’t roll your eyes, Elliott. “I’ll be certain to ask for help if I need it,” I say in response—to his retreating back.

  This guy is a piece of work.

  I grab the spray bottle and rag set out on the counter and get to work scrubbing down the lanes. Carsen tosses out random curse words from the back room and slams things about. I ignore it, and he ignores me…until he doesn’t.

  “Would you fucking quit it?”

  An invisible wall of warmth hits me and I freeze. He’s standing close, so close I’m afraid to move. “Me?” It comes out as a squeak.

  “Yes, you. Who the hell else would I be talking to?”

  “Quit cleaning?”

  “No. Stop humming. It’s driving me mad back there. I can’t concentrate.”

  “I didn’t realize I was humming.”

  “How do you not realize you’re being obnoxious?”

  “I could ask the same of you in this moment.”

  Carsen scoffs. “Whatever. Just…pipe down. I need to get this done before we open in ten minutes.”

  He ambles away, muttering the entire time.

  Ten minutes later, he emerges from the back, his scowl still in place, and unlocks the door. He’s not even halfway back to the front counter before the first customer comes waltzing in.

  “Hey, kid.” An older man, maybe mid-fifties, decked out in cargo shorts and a loose, unbuttoned Hawaiian-style shirt claps Carsen on the shoulder and gives him a shake. “Bryan here?”

  “Not yet, Cal. Anything I can help you with?”

  “Nah. Was wanting to discuss the league with him, bullshit a little.” Cal spots me. “Well, hell. Who do we have here? You new?”

  I give a small wave. “Yes, sir. Name’s Elliott.”

  “I’m no sir; that was my father.” He winks. “It’s nice to meet you Elliott. I’m Cal. I virtually live here, have a cot in the back and everything. Better get used to seeing my handsome mug.”

  His smile his easygoing and warm; I decide then that I like him. “Nice to meet you, Cal. I’ll be working here a few days a week so I’m sure we’ll get to know each other in no time.”

  Carsen rounds the counter and not so subtly pushes his way in front of me at the register as our first customer says, “Hook me up with shoes and five games to start. I’m working on my five-bagger today so I’ll need the time.”

  “But that’s…”

  “Ten games,” Carsen finishes for me. “Yeah, he knows. He can do math.”

  Cal tsks at Carsen’s cranky tone. “Now, kid, that’s no way to treat a lady. You’ll never get her to agree to go out with you if you keep that up.”

  “I don’t want to date her, Cal.”

  “And why not?” The older man meets my eyes and winks. “She’s awfully pretty.”

  “She’s also awfully rude.”

  “I flip you off one time…” I mutter.

  “Literally the first time our gazes connected. That’s insolent and uncouth.”

  “Insolent and uncouth? Do you like to throw out random fancy words to make yourself look like even more of a jackass?”

  “Speaking English makes me a jackass?”

  “No, your attitude makes you one.”

  “Right, and your attitude doesn’t play into it at all.”

  “My attitude? What are you talking about?”

  Carsen huffs. “Are you forgetting that you flipped me off?”

  “Oh my god. Get over it already.”

  “You say that like it happened years ago. It was yesterday.”

  “You scowled at me, for no reason.”

  “You were staring, for no reason.”

  “I waved at you!”

  He scoffs. “Whatever.”

  “What? What do you want me to say? I’m sorry for waving? For being polite?”

  “Your middle finger is polite?”

  “It’s as polite as your stupid scowly face!”

  Our heads whip Cal’s way as he hoots in amusement. “You two are something else, bickering and fighting over silly crap. Watch, you’ll end up married one day. That’s how the world works.”

  Carsen visibly shudders while I fall into a fit of hysterical laughter. No. There is no way in hell I’d ever consider dating an asshole like him. It doesn’t matter that everything inside me screams that he’s misunderstood; none of that erases the fact that he’s been nothing but a jerk since I met him.

  Granted, I only met him yesterday, but so far he’s batting zero with me.

  “Well? You two have anything to say to that?”

  “You’re dreaming, Cal. There’s no way,” I tell him.

  Carsen flicks his eyes to me, and for one split second, I think he’s disappointed by my answer. Then, he hooks his thumb my way and says, “What she said. No way in hell I’d ever date someone like her.”

  His words sting, and I know that was his intent.

  I’m not stupid; I don’t look like other girls my age. I don’t wear fashionable clothes or have perfect hair or makeup or teeth even. I’m…me, a little plain and a lot understated. I’ve always been comfortable with that, even in high school. Jase was always the popular guy and I’m aware enough to know that any ounce of popularity I enjoyed was because of my friendship with him. I know my presence was merely tolerated because Jase told his sheeple to make me feel welcomed. I know this, but it’s never bothered me.

  Until now.

  Until Carsen says it the way he does.

  Like I’m something…less. Undesirable, ugly, tainted. A stain, a blemish.

  I want so badly to throw nasty words back at him, to make him feel like he’s made me feel.

  But, I don’t.

  Because I know he has felt this bad before, and I know the hurtful words he’s hurling my way are a defense mechanism. I know he doesn’t truly mean them, that he’s not as callous as they are. Howe
ver, despite knowing all that, I can’t let him walk all over me. It’s not fair to either of us. I’m not doing him any favors by coddling him, and he’s certainly not doing me any by throwing insults at me.

  “Someone like me? Oh, you mean someone who’s not going to take your shit. Yeah, it’s probably for the best. I doubt your fragile ego could handle me anyway.”

  He doesn’t answer. Instead he punches at the touchscreen, slams the cash drawer closed, and nearly throws Cal’s shoes at him before stalking away to the back room, the door rattling on its hinges when he crashes it closed.

  So, he can dish it but can’t take it. Noted.

  “He’s a good kid,” Cal says after a few tense moments. “He’s just a little…”

  “Bit of an asshole? I’ve noticed.”

  The older gentleman chuckles. “I can’t refute that because he’s surlier than not most days, but don’t write him off yet. He’s, uh…well, he’s been through a great deal.”

  “So I’ve heard,” I mutter.

  “Don’t let him know that.”

  “Huh?”

  Cal jerks his head in Carsen’s direction. “At this point, I think the whole world knows, but don’t bring it up. He hates that everyone knows.”

  “I didn’t until…” I trail off, not wanting to admit my morbid curiosity or what made it rear its ugly head.

  “Until?”

  “Yesterday I flipped Carsen off because he was being…”

  “Carsen?”

  “From what I know of him, yes, that’s accurate. Anyway, my friend sort of…threw it all out there. About Carsen, I mean. Then, ya know, later, curiosity and whatnot made me do the worst thing ever.”

  “The worst?”

  “I Googled him.”

  Cal winces. “Bad idea, kid.”

  “I soon realized that.”

  “You good working with him?”

  I tilt my head and squint, confused by his words. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Most people think he’s guilty.”

  “Guilty of being a dick, sure. But murder? I don’t think so.”

  His eyes light up at my words. I don’t think he was expecting to hear that, and I know I’m not expecting the small smile that plays on his lips. Before I can question him, he nods and taps the counter twice. “Good. That’s good. I’m going to go get started on my games. Good luck today, Elliott.”

  “Thanks, Cal,” I say, only he’s already walking away, leaving me more confused about Carsen than I already was.