How to Be a Normal Person by TJ Klune Read Free Book Online Page B

Tiberius,” Casey said, glancing back at him. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you.”
    And because he’d been spotted and the cat was out of the bag, Gus scowled in response and said, “I can’t do selfies. It’s against my religion.”
    Casey cocked his head. “The whole Bleeding Jesus folk bongo band thing?”
    “What? No. Just. Shut up. I don’t even know you.”
    “Oh,” Casey said. “You will.”
    “Don’t you threaten me!”
    Casey shook his head. “There are a few things we need to discuss.”
    That didn’t sound good. “I have nothing to discuss with you,” Gus said.
    “Uh, yeah you do,” Casey said. “How about the fact that you work at a video rental store and it’s 2014? That’s… that’s, like. Retro . And shit.”
    “Retro and shit,” Gus said. “Wow. Is that your professional opinion? Are you going to go blog about it?”
    “Snark,” Betty said. “So much snark.”
    “I feel like we should have popcorn,” Bernice, said to her sister-lovers. “It’s like a play.”
    “A tragic comedy,” Bertha agreed.
    “Indeed,” Casey said to Gus. “Because Netflix and Redbox aren’t actual things that exist in this day and age.”
    “People want brick and mortar,” Gus said. “And I give them what they want. I carry high-quality films—”
    “Is that a Sharknado display?” Casey asked, pointing at a Sharknado display.
    “—for the discerning public who want to come and look at a selection face to face instead of sitting in front of a computer screen to pick out healthy film choices—”
    “Wow, that’s a very big Sharknado display,” Casey said.
    “It’s supposed to be ironic!”
    “Such a hipster,” Casey said, sounding fonder than anyone ever had when speaking to Gus, except for maybe Pastor Tommy. “Doing things ironically.”
    Gus gaped because he doubted he’d ever been called anything more offensive in his life.
    “So,” Casey said, ignoring Gus’s muttered death threats as he hopped off the counter. “Selfie. Everyone, gather around Gus and smoosh together as much as possible. We all need to fit.”
    “What? No! No gathering around Gus and smooshing—”
    Everyone gathered around Gus and smooshed together, Casey pressed against his side, their cheeks touching as he raised his phone out in front of them. It was awful, even if Casey smelled like coffee and Altoids and the faintest sweet hint of pot and—
    “Perfect,” Casey said, and they all stepped away, Gus not even aware when the picture had been taken. Casey looked down at his phone and started cackling. “Oh man. Gus, your face . I am posting the shit out of this.” He started typing furiously. “Hey, followers. Making new friends. Yes, those jackets are real. Hashtag fierce. Hashtag mountain town adventures. Hashtag ironic video store FTW. Hashtag Grumpy Gus.”
    “ What ?” Gus said, outraged. “I’m not —”
    “Hashtag pink ladies. Hashtag rolling stoned smoked up the moss. Hashtag—”
    “See?” Gus hissed to the We Three Queens. “He’s Instagramming me. Without my expressed permission. With hashtags! I don’t even know what those are . I’m not a fancy dinner that no one cares to look at!”
    Bertha was already on her phone. “Follow us,” she said to Casey. “We’re the WeThreeQueens4Life on Instagram.”
    Gus stared at her in abject horror.
    “Followed,” Casey said as his phone made a musical little sound.
    “Affirmative,” Betty said. “We’re following you now too.”
    “Done and done,” Casey said and they all put their phones away.
    “Sandwich?” Lottie asked.
     
     
    IT WAS while Casey was helping the We Three Queens pick out their daily movies (two this time, as the next day was Sunday and Gus was closed on Sundays) that Gus realized that all of this could be blamed on the inspirational calendar. Because he had said hello, and it had led to a million things happening in the last five hours, all of them difficult and wrong. Gustavo Tiberius was not