His cup tipped dangerously, but then he sat up, righting it before even a drop spilled onto the floorboard.
Zac smiled at me, panting a little as the effects of the slushie worked its way through him. “So? Awesome, right? I’m a genius, you can admit it.”
“It’s good,” I said, taking another sip.
“Good? It’s only the best thing in the entire universe! Tacos are good. Pizza is great. Cherry-lime-grape slushies are indescribable.”
“I think I understand now why you’re always so wound up,” I commented, casting a glance at him over the rim of my cup.
“Tons of sugar and a natural upbeat personality,” Zac confirmed. His smile lit up his face. He was still flushed from his time onstage and was even more animated than usual, except it seemed to be a more controlled constant movement, not like the chaos that usually surrounded him.
“I know what I want you to do for me,” I said. When Zac gave me a confused look, I added, “When we get an A on the business project.”
He studied me intently. “I’m intrigued. What is it you want from me?”
“Tell your dad that you don’t want to work in his store.”
Zac gave me an exasperated look. “Not happening. I don’t want to be responsible for my dad completely flipping his lid.”
“So you’re going to work there forever, being miserable and dancing to elevator music while you secretly perform at comedy shows?”
“I’m not miserable. No one can be miserable when they’re doing comedy. That’s why the Zac Pack loves me so much.”
“Zac Pack?” I asked.
He grinned and ducked his head. “My fans. I didn’t come up with the name, they did. It’s kind of stupid, but they have these T-shirts they made up. There are rumors of a newsletter coming out soon and a write-in campaign to get me booked on the Late Show, but you know, I’m trying to keep it small town for now. Don’t want to get too big too fast and develop an overinflated ego.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t want your head to get any bigger than it already is,” I told him.
Zac laughed. “Did you make a joke? You did! You made a real, actual joke. Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“It’s a great thing. You could stand to loosen up a little every now and then.”
My fingernails dug into the sides of the paper cup in my hand, my smile slipping off my face. “I’m not uptight.”
Zac shrugged. “I didn’t say you were. I just said you could loosen up a bit.”
Loosen up a bit. Criticism from Zac Greeley.
Suddenly, the cherry-lime-grape slushie had an awful metallic taste. I rolled down my window and poured the purple-black concoction onto the parking lot outside my door.
“Ready to go?” I asked, starting the ignition. My fingers tapped out a steady rhythm on the steering wheel. Distal phalanges, intermediate phalanges, proximal phalanges, metacarpals, carpals. I adjusted the strap of my seat belt, making sure it lined up perfectly across my torso.
Zac stared at me, but I didn’t dare look at him. I couldn’t look at him. “You okay?” he asked.
“Fine. I need to go home. I have to work later. Either drink the rest of your slushie or pour it out so we can go.”
My fingers continued the steady tapping, a perfectly timed rhythm to the words in my head in comparison to Zac’s wild bouncing knees.
I didn’t care what he thought of me, whether he did think I was uptight or imperfect or whatever. I didn’t want to think about winning Zac over or the fact that I would feel like a zombie later in the day. I wanted to go home, go to sleep, and go back to my normal, planned out life that didn’t involve midnight comedy shows and slushies.
Chapter 17
I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to hide the yawn I couldn’t stifle. My eyes drooped heavily. My instincts had been right—I felt like a zombie. All because of Zac Greeley and his slushies.
The only thing I wanted to do was lay across the counter and take a nap, but I had counter duty at Diggity Dog House that day. My eyelids drifted downward and I felt that soothing sensation of sleep beginning to wash over me just as someone stepped up to the counter, dropping a stack of books and startling me awake.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty.” Molly grinned, pushing a pink and blonde braid out of her eyes.
“Hey to you,” I answered, giving her a stern look.