Dead End Job (2 page)

Leo pulled into my driveway and left the car running. I looked at him. I wanted to say, “C'mon, Leo. Don't be like that. I couldn't care less about Devin.” But Leo turned his head away. He started drumming his fingers on the steering wheel like I was wasting his precious time. Like I was supposed to just hurry up and apologize.

I couldn't do that.

I sighed and said, “See ya.”

He said, “Yeah.” Then he punched the dashboard hard.

I got out. He gunned it down the driveway.

The light in my parents' room went on.

Great.

Two more people mad at me for something I didn't do.

Leo didn't call all the next day.

I guess I could have phoned, but what was I going to say? Talking to him right then would only have made things worse. He'd want me to say sorry. And I'd want to tell him what a jerk he was.

I figured I'd give it a day to blow over. I tried to study for history. I tried to do a landscape for my portfolio. I tried to read a trashy magazine, but I couldn't even concentrate on
that. This thing with Leo was really bugging me. I ended up just hanging around the house and picking stupid fights with everyone until it was time to leave for work at six o'clock.

I was surprised to see Mr. Abdul there. Normally his wife does the dayshift, but he told me she was having trouble with her pregnancy. The doctor didn't want her on her feet that day. Mr. Abdul must have been bagged by the time I arrived. He'd been working for eighteen hours straight.

I guess that's why the place was such a disaster. The shelves hadn't been stocked all day, and the snack counter was a mess. I didn't care. The evening shift is always pretty slow. Every so often a trucker will come in for some bad coffee, or a tourist will stop to ask how far it is to civilization. (Answer: Far.) Other than that, it's pretty dead. That's the whole reason I took the job. It gave me plenty of time to draw or—I hate to admit it—daydream about Leo.

That night, though, I didn't feel like doing either. I was glad to have shelves to clean. I'd spent enough time sulking.

I pulled my hair up with an old elastic band and got to work. I went totally crazy. It was like I was thinking:
I'll show Leo who he's messing with! I'll clean the store! That'll teach him
.

It didn't make sense, but it sure got me going. I restocked the candy section. I tidied the magazines. I swept the floor, cleaned the windows and scraped the scuzz off the inside of the microwave. By the time I got around to scrubbing out the dairy fridge, I was sweating like a pig.

I was down on my knees with a J-cloth, scooping this gross pink sludge off the bottom rack, when something clammy touched my neck.

I screamed. I didn't even look. I just hurled the wet rag at whatever it was that touched me.

There was a splat. Then someone swore.

I turned around. My wild throw had got Devin right in the head.

“You scared me!” I said.

“Well, we're even then,” he went, “because you scared me too.”

I had to laugh. Both times I saw the guy I screamed. Screaming might have been reasonable if he was a big ex-con biker type. But Devin looked so harmless—especially with half his face dripping pink goo.

He wiped his eye with the back of his hand. “What is this stuff?” he said. “It stinks!”

“Cherry yogurt—or at least it was. Once upon a time.”

“Oh, gross.” He gagged. “Serves me right for sneaking up on you I guess.”

“Yes, it does,” I said.

“Do I have to leave it on my face so that everyone knows I've been bad? Or can I use your washroom?”

I'm not really supposed to let customers use the washroom, but this was different. I was sort of to blame. I led him out through the stockroom to the back of the store.

The bathroom's about the size of a phone booth. It seemed even smaller, though, because it was stuffed with cardboard boxes we couldn't put anywhere else. I went to take the boxes out so Devin would have some room. He followed me right in. I turned around
to leave and there we were, squished together face-to-face in this grubby little washroom. Somehow he seemed to find that romantic.

It was so awkward. My hands were full of boxes and I had nowhere to move.

He smiled at me and said, “So …”

I wasn't sure what he meant. I didn't want to find out.

I said, “You're right. That stuff doesn't smell very nice, does it?” That made him back off a bit. I wiggled past him. “Would you mind leaving the window open when you're done?” I asked.

Chris Cooper from Diamond Taxi was waiting at the counter when I came out. He bought his Jersey Milk bar and then hung around talking for a while. He's a nice guy, so I didn't mind.

Chris had left to pick up a customer and I was back wiping shelves by the time Devin came out. He was all clean and shiny.

“Boo,” he said.

“Not funny,” I said.

He nodded. “Oh-oh. Now I have to say sorry for something else.” He looked
embarrassed. “Believe it or not, that's the only reason I came in today. To say sorry for last night.”

“That's okay,” I said.

“No, it's not,” he said. “I was being a jerk. I shouldn't have taken your drawing.”

“It's okay,” I said.

“I've got an excuse,” he said. “I was tired. I'd been hitchhiking for a week to get here and I was nervous about seeing my dad again. Then I ran into a pretty girl and I acted like an idiot.”

“That's okay,” I said. “It's no big deal.” I just wanted him to stop talking about it.

“It's a big deal to me, though,” he said. “That's why I brought you these.”

He pulled a box out of his jacket pocket. It was a full set of pastels. Really, really good French pastels. He put them on the counter. I couldn't believe it.

I shook my head. This wasn't right.

“You can't give me those!” I pushed them back toward him. “They're too expensive!”

“Don't worry about that,” he said. “I'm actually okay for money.”

I looked at his scruffy jacket. He noticed.

“Okay, so I don't look it!” He laughed. “But it's the truth! I've got lots of money. In fact, that's why I came out here. I wanted to tell my dad I just signed a big recording deal.”

“Really?” It was probably rude of me to look so surprised.

“Yeah. Really. I figured Tom might be happy to see me now that I'm a…success.” He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers. He rolled his eyes like “what a joke.”

“In fact, I was going to go over to his place today but …” He shrugged. “I chickened out. I went into the city instead to buy you these.”

He pushed the pastels back toward me. “C'mon. I made a special trip just for you.”

I sighed. I just looked at them. I didn't know what to do. I felt bad for the guy. I couldn't take them. But I didn't want to hurt his feelings either. It sounded like he'd had a rough enough day already.

“Please,” I said. “That's really nice, but I'd rather you keep them.”

“Nah. I don't want them,” he said. “I bought myself something even better.” He took the tiniest digital camera you ever saw out of his pocket. “Cool, huh?”

He came around the counter and showed me what it could do. I had to lean in close to see.

“Don't move,” he said.

He held the camera out at arm's length and took a picture of us. The flash surprised me. I laughed.

“This'll be good,” he said. “Your hair looks great like that.”

“You're such a liar,” I said.

His head snapped around.

“Did you call me a liar?” He had this totally psycho look on his face.

“I…I just meant you're lying about my hair!” I said. “It's all sweaty and tangled. It looks terrible. I mean it. I wasn't trying to upset you.”

He laughed. It was like nothing had happened. His face had gone completely back to normal. He said, “I'm not upset. I was just kidding around. And anyway, I think your
hair looks great like that. See?” He showed me the picture. He had one arm around my shoulder and was smiling at me. I was laughing. “You look gorgeous.”

I didn't want to call him a liar again. I just smiled and said, “Ah. It's almost midnight. I've got to do my cash, get ready to go.”

“I'll help if you want. I could sweep or whatever.”

I didn't have time to answer. I saw a car turning off the highway.

A 1985 Impala.

That's all I needed right then.

Leo catching me with Devin.

“It's my boyfriend,” I said. I must have gone totally white.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I looked out the window. Thank God Leo was having trouble with first gear again. It gave me a couple of extra seconds to figure out what to do.

“Yeah. Fine,” I said, but I was lying. I wasn't fine at all.

I heard the engine turn off. I panicked. I said, “Don't let him see you!”

Devin asked, “Why?”

I pushed him. “You've got to go!”

I didn't have time to explain. It didn't matter. Devin was suddenly smiling at me, like we had some big private joke.

“Oh, I get it,” he said.

The car door closed.

“The bathroom window!” I whispered. “Go out the bathroom window!”

Devin winked and ducked down behind the Pringles display. I heard the door creak open. I stuffed the pastels beneath the counter and pretended to straighten the lottery tickets.

I don't know how Leo missed seeing Devin, but he did. He walked right past the display and gave the bell on the cash register a little ding. I looked up. He kind of half-smiled at me. I went all liquid inside.

“Hey,” he said. His back was to the store. He couldn't see that Devin was standing up now and waving at me. I wanted to kill the guy.

“You came,” I said. I didn't mean to sound so cold. I couldn't help it. I was terrified.

“I always come,” Leo said. “I'm a jerk, but I always come.”

I turned away. It must have seemed like I was still mad. I was really just trying to motion to Devin to get out while Leo wasn't looking.

Leo sighed. I could see his big shadow slump. “Look,” he said, “I don't blame you for not wanting to see me. I admit it. I'm a bonehead. I'm an idiot. I acted like a two-year-old. I've got a jealousy problem. I've got a confidence problem. But, hey, I'm a guy. Sometimes I can't get the words out to tell you …” He sucked in his breath, “…that I'm, you know… scared, I guess. I don't want you to leave. I don't want you to give up on me. But I know if I keep on acting like I did, you will.”

Leo threw his hands up in the air. “I don't know what else I can say! I'm sorry, Frances.” That's when I knew how bad he felt. He always calls me Frank.

I could see Devin making fun of him in the background. He was rubbing his eyes like he was crying. He was pretending to go
“boo hoo hoo.” If Leo saw him, he'd never forgive me.

I'd never been that scared in my life. I clenched my teeth together so they wouldn't chatter. Leo looked at me as if he couldn't believe I was still holding out. He usually just had to turn those hazel eyes to me and I gave in pretty quickly.

“This probably won't make any difference, but I brought you something,” he said. He lifted his right hand to his pocket and winced. His knuckles were all red and swollen. “I have to get a softer dashboard if I'm going to use it for a punching bag.” He tried again to put his hand in his pocket, but he couldn't close it enough. “Can you get it for me?”

I nodded—but I really meant the nod for Devin. He was pointing to the bathroom and pretending to tiptoe away.

Leo lifted his arm. I leaned across the counter and slipped my hand inside his jacket. Devin acted like he was shocked at my behavior and wagged his finger at me. It brushed against a row of chips. There was
this really loud crinkling sound. I cringed. Leo jerked halfway around.

I had to do something fast.

I grabbed Leo's head with my other hand. I pulled him across the counter and kissed him on the mouth.

It worked. Devin got out of the store without being seen.

And I got back with Leo.

I also got another box of pastels.

The pastels Leo gave me only came from the Dollar Store, but they meant a lot to me. I knew he didn't want me to go to art college. But he gave me something to help get there anyway.

As a thank-you, I decided to draw him a picture. That Tuesday on my free period I sat behind the school and sketched the football team practicing. (Hey, he's a jock. That's the type of picture he likes.)

It was a disaster. Like I said, the pastels meant a lot to me—but they were still cheap. They broke. They smudged too much. Or they wouldn't smudge at all. I had no control over what I was putting on the paper. It was so frustrating.

I was just about to pack up my stuff when this little spray of pebbles landed on my lap.

“Don't be scared!” someone whispered.

I turned and saw Devin tiptoeing up to me.

He was going, “Easy, girl. Eeeeeeea-sy.”

It was kind of funny. He was acting like I was this wild animal that could attack at any moment. I couldn't help myself. I laughed.

He plopped down beside me.

“What are
you
doing here?” he said.

“I go here.”

“I didn't know that!”

“There's only one high school in town. I don't have much choice,” I said. Then it dawned on me. “But you do. Why in the world would anyone come to Lockeport Rural Academy if they didn't absolutely have to?”

He shrugged. “What else is there to do around here?”

“Good point.”

“Other than draw, that is.”

He looked down at my picture. I really didn't want him seeing this one. I didn't want
anyone
seeing this one. I put my arm over it.