“Yeah,” Jackson murmurs. He presses his lips together and looks at me, waiting for his friend to leave. Once Quentin is gone, Jackson shrugs, as if saying his friend is just being impatient.
I study the array of chocolates, and Jackson comes to stand next to me. He grabs a small bag of Hershey’s Kisses.
“These are my favorite,” he says. I look sideways at him, struck by his imperfections. The freckles dotting his cheeks and nose. The slight turn of his canine teeth that makes his smile boyish and charming. There’s even a tiny scar near his temple.
“I’ll try them,” I say, plucking the chocolates from his hand.
“Ahem,”Sydney says dramatically from the other end of the aisle. She runs her gaze quickly over Jackson before settling on me.
“Sydney, this is Jackson,” I tell her, fighting back my smile. Just as seeing someplace new is exciting, meetingsomeonenew is absolutely thrilling. Sydney steps forward and introduces herself, politely, like we’re taught.
They exchange a quick handshake, and Jackson tells her it’s nice to meet her. When Sydney turns back to me she covertly mouths the word “cute.”
She smiles, pleasant and respectful, when she’s facing Jackson again.
“I’ll meet you on the bus?” I ask her, holding up my fistfuls of candy. She pauses a long moment before nodding. She has to bite her lower lip to keep from grinning.
“Right...,” she says. “See you there.” Sydney tells Jackson it was nice to meet him and leaves the store, the bell on the handle jingling.
Quentin watches after her while hanging out near the ATM, the brown paper bag set on top of the machine. He chews his thumbnail, and when Sydney is gone, he returns his gaze to the door.
Jackson grabs a pack of Twizzlers while I pick up red hot candies with a flaming sun on the package. Together we head toward the register.
“Can I buy that for you?” Jackson asks when I lay my pile of candy on the counter. It would be rude to refuse his offer, so I say yes and thank him. The cashier begins to ring up our sweets together.
“I’m not allowed candy at school,” I confess to Jackson as he takes out his wallet. He looks at me as if he finds this unusual. “But whenever I get the chance,” I add, “it’s what I spend my allowance on. It’s not like there’s anything to buy at school.”
“I’m sure,” he says. “Your school’s out in the middle of fucking nowhere.”
I’m a bit shocked by his cursing; a bit exhilarated by the indecency of it. Jackson leans against the counter, studying me again.
“Would you want to grab a coffee with me sometime, Mena?” he asks. “I have a lot of questions about this private school–factory of yours.”
I’m about to explain that I’m not allowed to leave campus when there’s a series of clicks from the register. The woman behind the counter tells us the total for the candy, and Jackson removes several bills from his wallet to hand to the woman.
The bell on the glass door jingles, and I turn to see Guardian Bose walk in, a hulking mass in the small store. The woman at the register busies herself by putting my items in a plastic bag.
“Philomena,” the Guardian calls in a low voice, darting his gaze from me to Jackson. “It’s time to go.”
I flinch at his scolding tone. I’d been told not to get distracted.
“Be right there,” I say politely, avoiding Jackson’s eyes as I wait for my candy.
The Guardian stomps to my side and takes me by the wrist. “No,” he says, startling me. “Now. Everyone’s already on the bus.”
Jackson curls his lip. “Don’t touch her like that,” he says.
I look at the Guardian to gauge his reaction; I’ve never heard anyone speak to him that way. He opens his mouth to retort, his grip loosening, and I quietly slip free to take my bag off the counter.
But the moment I do, Guardian Bose grabs my forearm hard enough to make me wince and I drop my candy on the floor.
“I said get on the bus, Mena,” he growls possessively, pulling me closer. I’m frightened, ashamed that I’ve upset him. I apologize even as he hurts me.
Jackson steps forward to intervene, but the Guardian holds up his palm.
“Back off, kid,” Guardian Bose says. “This is none of your business.”
Jackson scoffs, red blotches rising on his cheeks and neck. “Try and grab me like that, tough guy,” Jackson says. “See what happens.” Guardian Bose laughs dismissively.
