him.”
“Clare,
no
.” While I appreciated her trying to defend me, I couldn’t let her do it. “I’ll be okay.”
“Well, what if you’re not?” she hissed, obviously irritated. When I drew back, she let out a breath. “I’m not mad at you, I just …”
She couldn’t seem to figure out how to finish her sentence, and then we had customers. I busied myself with my job, and Clare didn’t ask me any more about it. When she quit her shift an hour later, I watched to make sure she didn’t go talk to Rob, but she walked right out the door without even looking at me.
It felt weird to have someone try and stick up for me. I used to think I could handle myself, but lately life had spun out of my control. There was no support from home; strangers had my back more than my own family.
I tried to hang on for my full shift, but two hours later I was a nervous wreck. I kept watching for any sign of Macon, and couldn’t keep my mind on the job. When a large jar of pickled eggs slipped out of my hands and shattered on the floor, I knew I was done. After cleaning up the mess, I told Rob that I wasn’t feeling well, and since we weren’t busy he let me go for the evening.
It was still light out when I left, and I had no desire to go home yet. I also desperately didn’t want to be alone. If I’d had Clare’s phone number, I might have called her, but we weren’t that close yet. I had a handful of numbers in my new phone, but only one that I actually wanted to talk to.
< What are you up to? >
There was a moment’s wait for the reply.
< Just got off work. Why? >
< You want to hang out? >
There was a longer pause this time, and I instantly regretted even asking. God, I didn’t even know this boy; he was a total stranger, not even from around here. Everything told me that this was silly, that I shouldn’t be trusting anyone I didn’t—
The phone buzzed in my hand.
< Where should I pick you up? >
I debated what to tell him.
Never mind, I was just kidding. Haha, fooled you
. I clicked the Reply button, and then slowly typed out my location before pressing Send.
His answer was immediate.
< I’ll be there in ten. >
* * *
He was there in six.
Standing up from the curb, I stared at his car for a few seconds, then opened the door and climbed inside. “Hi,” I murmured, staring straight ahead.
“Hi.”
There was an awkwardness now that had never been there in texts, as if being together physically had put up a wall of some kind. I almost wished I could whip out my phone and have us talk that way now in the car, but that would be silly.
“Where to?”
I looked over to see him studying me, his face placid. It made me nervous, so I turned and stared straight ahead. “I’m hungry.”
“You like ice cream?” When I nodded, Everett shifted the car into gear and we pulled away from the store. I stared straight ahead the whole way but we didn’t go far, probably less than a mile before pulling off into another strip mall. Everett stepped out of the car, and after a brief pause I follow suit.
Johnson’s Dairy had been in this town, in one way or another, for longer than I’d been alive. After Katrina came through, it had downsized a bit, moving into the strip mall farther inland, but was still considered a local hot spot. “How’d you learn about this place?” I asked.
“Trent likes coming here for lunch. When you’re working outside all day in the middle of summer, ice cream sounds like manna from heaven.”
The place was as packed as usual, but the line was quick. Johnson’s mixed up whatever combination of ice cream and sides that you wanted, as long as it all fit inside the cone or cup. Everett paid for our ice cream—I got chocolate with a brownie and caramel while Everett had a cone of plain vanilla and almonds—and we found a small table inside. “So how long have you lived here?”
“Since I was fifteen.” I spooned the soft edges of the ice cream and let the coolness melt against
Learning to Kill: Stories