Well, that just wasn’t fair.
Hoping one of my coworkers would save my poor burger from being burnt to a crisp, I put the spatula down and hurried over to him.
“Yes, Bobby?” I asked urgently. “I’ve got a burger on the grill, so—”
Bobby leaned in closer, squinting hard. He took a couple sniffs, then recoiled with a disgusted sound.
“God, you reek!”
“Huh?”
I sniffed myself. I smelled normal—to my nose, anyway, and I knew I had a keener sense of smell than a human.
Well, okay,maybeI had a stronger scent than usual. I spent last night on the street and I had no place to shower, but that didn’t mean I was dirty. I licked myself clean in jackal form and took a dip in the local river in human form. Plus, I had the power of deodorant on my side. I couldn’t smellthatbad.
Bobby didn’t agree. His nose wrinkled like he’d just opened a Dumpster.
“You stink like a dog,” Bobby blurted out.
The tips of my ears felt hot with embarrassment. If I’d been in my jackal form, my tail would’ve slipped between my legs. But I guess it was better to be in human form right now. If Bobby thought I smelled like a dog while I stood on two legs, he’d lose it if I was on four...
“I’m sorry,” I said, bowing my head.
Like my ex-superintendent George, Bobby also knew I was a shifter. I couldn’t help but volunteer that information whenever people asked. In the past, I’d done the whole song and dance of hiding my shifter identity. It never worked out. Besides, I wasn’t ashamed, so why hide it?
Bobby gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke. “Listen, I know you’re a transformer or whatever they’re called, but food service has a strictno animalspolicy. You can’t be getting dog hair or dander orsmellon the food.”
I winced. Bobby’s brutal honesty sucked to hear. It wasn’t like I flipped burgers with my paws and shook out my pelt all over the grill. I was in human form, just like all the other actual humans working here.
“I’m really sorry. I’ll fix it right after my shift, I swear,” I insisted.
How was I gonna fix it exactly? I had no clue. But I’d figure something out. I always did.
“You’d better.” Bobby pinched his nose. “Man, you smell worse than my Labrador retriever after he jumps in the pool...”
I stood there awkwardly. It was always weird when humans compared us to their actual, non-shifter pets.
“Take a bath tonight. Got it?” Bobby demanded.
I nodded vigorously. “Yeah, definitely. Except, uh...”
One of Bobby’s brows ran for his hairline. “What?”
What could I say? Should I lie? I didn’t wanna do that. It was hard enough dodging the truth with Poppy the other day. Maybe Bobby would be more sympathetic towards me if he knew I’d been evicted.
I stammered. “It’s actually—well, what happened is—er, the concept of a bath really changes from person to person, doesn’t it—”
“Spit it out, Zavala,” Bobby barked.
I sighed. “I lost my apartment. So, I can’t really take a bath. Or a shower. Not in an actual shower or bathtub, anyway.”
Bobby’s face paled. Was he imagining my plight? I took that as a good sign. My sympathy strategy was working!
“Oh, also,” I continued, “since I don’t technically have an address anymore, could I get my next paycheck in cash instead of mailed to my apartment?”
Bobby groaned and rubbed his temples. The next words out of his mouth sideswiped me.
“Pack up your stuff, Muzo,” Bobby ordered. “Sorry, but you’re outta here.”
