“Why are you here?” I mutter to myself under my breath. And then blinds begin to open from inside the store. I don’t believe in signs or astrology or any of that, but this feels like something.
Move.
I walk away from the parking meter. Nearing the door. Why am I here?
Because I literally have nowhere else to go.
I have no friends. I have no life-altering aspirations. Every door feels shut except this one…the one that Loren Hale left open for me.
If this doesn’t work out…I don’t know what I’m going to do.
I eye the closed sign and then knock on the glass door. I lean over and see Lily Calloway through it. She looks startled, her green eyes widened at me.
Shit. I go still, more uncertain now. Her bald-headed bodyguard flanks her side, the burliest guy I’ve ever seen. His thick left arm could probably crush my windpipe.
She bites her nails, and I knock again, letting her know that I want to enter the store. I keep shifting, like I might bail and go home at any second.
Lily says something to her bodyguard, her gangly body looking even thinner while she stands next to him. She makes me less nervous for some reason.
He replies back, and then she approaches the door.
I tense as soon as she cracks the door and sticks her head out. I pull back my hoodie so she can see my face, and then I look over her shoulder. “Is Loren here?”
“No.” That’s all she gives me.
I deserve that.
I deserve even less, actually. I look at her bodyguard again. He crosses his arms and actually glares at me. I let out a pained noise, meaning it to be a laugh. “Forget it. This was a mistake.” I go to turn around.
“Wait,” she says quickly.
I hesitate, halfway turned.
“What do you want?”
How do I say this? I grit my teeth and try to purge my feelings, but all I say is, “Your boyfriend or fiancé or whatever… he offered me and my friends a job.” I roll my eyes, realizing how this sounds after what happened. “It’s fucking stupid anyway. Everything is.”
I’m leaving.
The single thought sounds good, and I know how deep it actually goes.
“Lo told me about that.” She swings the door wider open. “Do you want to come in?”
I hardly hear her. My lips part in shock, and my eyes burn. “What?” I breathe, looking between her and the opened door. I fully expected her to shut it in my face.
“If you want a job, you have to come into the store,” she says nicely and even produces a smile. “Although…” Her eyes light up. “It’d be kinda cool if we had a superhero mascot out front. Do you want to be a mascot?”
“No.” I shake my head in fog, barely registering anything she just said. How can she be this nice to me? She waves me in again, and I tentatively walk inside, my fists stuffed in my jean pockets. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous.
Don’t screw this up. I know. I know.
Her bodyguard blocks me about ten-feet into the store. “I need to pat you down.”
Right.
I could have a weapon or some shit, looking for vengeance for them turning in my friends. I understand. I extend my arms, and the big guy pats my pockets and checks my hoodie. I hear some people talking softly by the cash register, but I don’t look over there.
I scan the racks of comics, a cardboard cutout of a couple green-clad superheroes close by.
After Lily’s bodyguard finds nothing on me, he nods to her in approval.
“So you want a job?” she asks.
My face twists, unable to detect any resentment on her features. She’s what…twenty-four? She looks sixteen, to be honest—just really thin with a round face and rosy cheeks. Her brown hair is chopped at her shoulders, and she scratches her arm while she waits for me to speak.
I don’t know what I feel, but it’s all rising and hitting me fast. “You’re not even going to ask me where I was that night? Or what happened?”
It’s hard to believe Lily is a sex addict. The way she stares at me like “oh right”—slightly aloof but still approachable like a lost turtle—isn’t someone I’d think would have a lot of sex.
Then again, one of my friends, Carly, has a tongue piercing and she’s a virgin. So I don’t know why I draw these conclusions, knowing they never add up anyway.
Lily pulls back her shoulders some and hesitantly asks, “Where were you?”
The question pummels me full-force, even if I was the one who basically asked it to myself. I look up at the ceiling and shake my head.
And it just rips out of me. “I’m not a good guy. I never told them to stop. I knew that they planned to break in and scare everyone, and I didn’t do anything. I just let them leave.” I choke on a laugh. “And now they’re all looking at a year in prison. And I’m standing free.”