on the ground near Amber’s feet. Despite the summer heat and the skimpy pink outfit, she’s still wearing her black combat boots.
“Amber, I know these uniforms are ridiculous, but—”
“They’re not ridiculous, they’re evil.”
“Well, then, you ought to love them.”
Amber shoots me a hateful stare and wraps her arms tighter around her chest. “Don’t try to cheer me up.”
“Oh no, I would never do that.” I turn away from Amber and remove the various creams, perfumes, and flavored body powders from the boxes then assemble the table display that Brook had me practice at the store last week.
“Ellie?” Amber asks in a small voice.
“Yeah?”
“How much flavored body powder would I need to ingest to kill myself?”
I look at Amber from over my shoulder and give her a wry grin. “More than we’ve got here.”
I feel bad for Amber. I know what it’s like to feel that you’ve been hung out to dry, even if I am slightly amused at her discomfort. I stack the flavored powders in the center of the table and look around me for the sign Brook made especially for the display. Spotting the bejeweled wooden sign, I walk around the table and outside the tent to set it in the wooden tripod stand at the tent’s entrance. The sign reads, Come Taste Me. I look over my shoulder to see if the Morality Police have shown up to arrest us but see someone much scarier walking my way.
Brook is bouncing down the grassy thoroughfare, her silicone breasts hardly moving beneath her tight, white t-shirt. Her arms are stretched before her as she lugs an overflowing box toward the tent.
“Hey, girl! Come and help me with this box,” she yells, her feet wobbling in neon-pink stilettos that are sinking into the soft ground.
I begin to jog toward her then stop when I pass by a couple of fair workers who’re openly ogling me in my tight shorts.
“Well, don’t you just look cute as a button?” Brook heaves the box into my arms and wipes the sweat forming on her brow. “Woo-wee, it’s gonna be a hot one today. Is Amber still wearin’ the coat?”
“Yeah, and we probably shouldn’t leave her alone for long. I have reason to believe she’s planning to poison someone today, maybe herself.”
“That girl, I’ll tell you. She just needs some encouragement is all,” Brook says, smiling widely at the vendors setting up their tents. “Have you spoken to Carly yet?”
“No, but she’s been shooting nasty looks at the tent since I got here.”
“Just ignore her,” Brook says, waving a hand in the treat tent’s direction. “She’s just jealous is all. We were in high school together, you know. She thought she was ‘all that,’ captain of the cheerleadin’ squad and datin’ Jimmy Husbands. Of course, now she looks like a bowlin’ pin with a mustache.”
“I take it the two of you still aren’t friends?”
“Oh, darlin’, our role as enemies was cemented the day I let Jimmy feel me up in the back of his dad’s Oldsmobile.”
I look over toward Carly’s tent and, sure enough, she’s shooting a venomous stare at Brook. “And Jimmy Husbands?”
“She married the fool, if you can believe it. I see him time to time down at the VFW. He’s lost some hair and he’s carrying a spare-tire around the middle, but every time he sees me, he gives me a big ol’ grin. Drive’s Carly crazy.” Brook smiles widely at me and winks one heavily-shadowed eye.
Brook and I make short work of setting up the rest of the display while Amber continues to linger at the back of the tent in a silent protest.
“Now, when people come up to the booth, offer them a taste test of these powders here in the front,” says Brook.
“No way. I’m not letting some pervert lick me so I can sell a nine-dollar container of body powder, Brook.” Amber stalks up to the front of the tent, her expression wild and dangerous.
“No one said anything about licking you, Amber. They’re going to be using their own wrists for the taste tests, not ours.”
“Maybe an exception can be made.” Tim’s long shadow falls over me, the sound of his voice startling the three of us.
“Tim, you scared me,” I say, holding my hand to my chest.
Amber makes a disgusted noise and turns away from the table. Brook, on the other hand, lights up like a Christmas tree and looks Tim up and down in open appreciation. He’s wearing a crisp white polo shirt and neatly