Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
“What was that? I know for a fact that your mother’s alive, because I talked to her just this morning, to ask if she has any idea why you’re running late.”
I cross my arms on my chest and glance through the tiny window in the back door. The night outside seems especially appealing when the alternative is another hour here. “I told you why I was late. My neighbor found a bat in her attic and it needed to be taken to the vet. It was an emergency. She’s an older lady, and her car doesn’t work—”
Marty raises his hands. “I don’t want your life story, Luke. What I want is for you to be nicer to customers. And yes, that does involve smiling, whether it’s part of the Lord of Darkness agenda or not. Get a grip.”
I roll my eyes, but what can I say, really? I might hate my job, but that doesn’t change the fact that I need it if I’m to ever move out of my mother’s house. I resent that I even got hired in the first place because Marty is some old friend of hers who may or may not be trying to get into her pants. I’d rather not think about that.
There aren’t many jobs available for a guy with a chip on his shoulder, a neck tattoo, and no high school diploma, not in this small town at least. I could pretend I’m nice, and kind, and good, and agreeable, but most people know me around here, so I might as well live up to their expectations.
I did get one unsolicited job offer from this weirdo who said he’d employ me as a clown for children’s parties, if I came to Montreal with him, but I’m pretty sure he wanted to harvest my organs.
I did sell him five feet pics though. Beggars can’t be choosers.
So here I am. Working at BBB, living with my witch of a mother, and pipe-dreaming about a move to a big city that doesn’t involve becoming someone’s live-in sex slave. But unless my failing Etsy business suddenly becomes a viral hit, I’m stuck in small-town Maine, and considering that I sell a random assortment of skull-shaped bath bombs, bookmarks with my paintings of bats, and goth pet portraits, I don’t see much commercial success in my future.
Guess I’m just a failure, a loser, and no amount of black eyeshadow can hide that.
“Sorry,” I mumble, swallowed by my own darkness.
“Just… do better.” Marty shakes his head before walking away, as defeated by this conversation as I am.
I return to the front of the restaurant with a heavy weight on my shoulders, but fortunately there are no customers, which frees me from the necessity of grinning like an idiot. It’s not my fault I suffer from resting bitch face.
Kurt’s busy texting, most likely with his new girlfriend, so I grab a mop and get to work. It’s time for penance. At least the clock is ticking, which means I’m closer and closer to leaving this hell hole.
“Do you want to go on a double date with me and Daria?” Kurt asks with a smile. I don’t know how, but on him, even the ugly uniform looks attractive. Maybe it’s because his shoulders are broader than mine? Though I’m pretty sure his golden retriever smile and shiny blue eyes help elevate the outfit too. I would hook up with him if he wasn’t so painfully heterosexual.
I lean against the mop. “How would that be a double date?”
“You and Larry?”
“Larry…” I drift off, confused until the disastrous date from a week ago pops into my head. Instead of fucking me, like a normal person, Larry spent three hours talking about himself and asked me a total of two questions. Yes, I did count. “Oh, Larry! God no, I’ve only been on one date with him, and that was definitely enough for me.” It wasn’t even supposed to be a date, but he roped me in by offering food and then I felt too awkward to refuse him conversation.
Kurt’s smile turns into a pout. With a face like his though, it’s no wonder he’s never without a girlfriend despite barely making his rent every month and needing rides to work. “I’m so sorry, dude.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Nothing to be sorry about, I’ll be happy to never see him again. I don’t know why I bother dating. I’m not looking to get married. I just want to have a good time every now and then. It’s not like I’ll be finding my Prince Charming in this dump anyway.”
“Now that’s just depressing, man. You gotta give people a chance, get to know them.” Kurt says but doesn’t seem too convinced himself as his blue eyes search mine for confirmation. At least he’s aware he doesn’t know the first thing about gay dating. “This one time, I met a girl who looked all preppy and shit, but then it turned out she did heroin every weekend.”