“I’m almost finished, Earl. Sorry,” I call over my shoulder.
The office is tucked away in the back of the projection room at the front of the snack shack. This is where Earl hides out, in the shadows of the movie-magic machines and the radio equipment. It’s a bit dark and dreary, given its only window is the tiny square one through which the movie shoots out and onto the screen.
“Uh, it’s not Earl.” Derick is ducking into the space. I hop out from behind the L-shaped, antique desk. “I was waiting by my car, and you never showed. Avery said you were in here.”
I scramble to put my papers away. “I’m sorry. I totally forgot. I’m still getting used to my new position and my brain is everywhere and Mateo undercharged all the cars in his line.”
“Ha,” Derick laughs. “That would explain this comment, then.”
Beneath one of the photos Derick posted, someone named 420BlazinBoii wrote:
Was it 1960s throwback-pricing night already? The cheap tickets weren’t the only way I was celebrating the decade ;) A real puff-puff-pass party at Wiley’s!
Obviously, I missed them in my count. They were likely in their car with the windows up, hotboxing in the back somewhere. Though, now that I think of it, I do remember seeing aGo Greenbumper sticker that may have been advertising cannabis and not recycling. I groan. “Can we get that taken down?”
“Already deleted. I just took a screenshot. Thought it was kind of funny.”
“Send him a DM and offer him a voucher to assuage the comment deletion. Apologize again for the pricing mistake, and maybe mention the use of recreational drugs is…prohibited on the property?” Those vouchers are supposed to sustain us through a whole season and be a last resort. I collect my keys, my hoodie, and my satchel. “Oh, and don’t tell Earl. The less he knows about this until he reads the report, the better.”
“The report about what?” Earl asks, sneaking up on us. He is playing with his impressive ring of keys, blocking our exit. I’m about to tell him the truth when Derick steps up and explains away the situation, taking full responsibility for holding up the admission line and praising me for managing to save the day. He even adds the Instagram comedy as a punch line to bring some levity.
Earl looks as angry as he did when found us playing footsie in the closet, but then he breaks into a hearty laugh that fills the room. It’s uncharacteristic and infectious. My own laugh lightens my load; the stress of this job doesn’t feel so laborious.
“That’s certainly a new one.” Earl tells me to put Mateo on concessions, where Avery can keep her iron fist wrapped tightly around him. He motions with his thumb for us to get out of here so he can lock up.
When Derick is halfway gone, Earl’s hand stops me in my tracks. He warns, “It may be funny, but consider this strike two. Don’t get to three, kid. As manager, when one of your employees messes up, it’s on you. Don’t make me regret giving you more responsibility. I can count on you, can’t I?”
His words whip at me. “You can,” I croak.
“Don’t let D—Distractionsget in the way of doing a good job.” I know he was about to say Derick. I don’t know how to feel about that. He smiles ruefully. “Now, get some rest.”
Back outside in the fresh air, walking toward our cars, I exhale hard, yet the exhaustion sets in. It starts in my temples and makes its way down to my toes. I’m trudging, unseen weights tied around my ankles.
“You seem tired. Sure you don’t want to call it a night?”
As much as I’d love to fall into bed and emerge well rested sometime around noon tomorrow, I know I won’t be able to sleep until I get this torturous conversation wiped from my mental agenda. Once we clear the air, we can call a cease-fire and keep our summers separate. I can do what Earl demands and not let Derick distract me.
“No, no. I’m fine. Really. I had more than one Mountain Dew tonight. I’m going to be wired for a while.” I roll out my neck. “Thanks for owning up to Earl back there.”
He stops and looks at me. His expression is shrouded in nighttime shadow. For half a heartbeat, we’re four years younger and he’s taking the fall with Coach Clarke for one of our missed peer-leadership assignments. He charmed her into giving us an extension.
“I wanted to say something last week about the closet fiasco, but there wasn’t a right moment. And while I was working tonight, I realized that holding up the line was a shitty thing to do. I’m seriously not trying to make more mess for you, but I really want to clear the air.”
His honesty is a welcome surprise that reinvigorates me. Even though Earl’s admonishments are burrowing themselves into my subconscious, I’ll turn this around. I’m sure of it. I didn’t work that hard to strike out this early.
Despite everything, I’m thankful Derick was here tonight.
“You’re good.” I pull my keys out of my bag, mulling it over. “You’re all good.”
He brightens. “I’m starved. Any chance you want to grab some grub? I know a spot with killer chicken wings.”
Overlooking the fact that I’ll be dead for tomorrow night’s shift, I agree.
Chapter 9
An orange, light-up sign blinks above my head:
The Lonely Lass-O.
