say, “Uh… who’s that?”
Pete smirks and he and this girl share a look. Does Pete have a girlfriend? I feel like I would know that about him.
He meets my eyes, ignoring my question altogether. “You want me to teach you… what?”
My tongue continues to push against the canker sore, heat crawling up and down my spine. “This… this is an employee’s only break room,” I squeak out. What if a manager comes in? Will they fire Pete on the spot for using this as a personal make-out closet? He can’t get fired. I need him.
Pete lets out a chuckle, but it sounds a little off. He pats the girl’s knee a couple times, and they both push from the couch. “I better clock back in anyway.”
He’s talking to her, I think, but I answer. “But I need… Something happened and you’re the only… I mean, you’re not completely out of break time, are you?”
Usually Pete has some sort of joke or smirk or something, but his smile is only just there and more like he’s completely exasperated by me. My defenses start to rise. I’m exhausting? Please. He’s the one back here with a non-employee probably touching naughty bits and geez, I’m sorry for penis-blocking, but she’s not supposed to be back here anyway.
I cross my arms, jutting my hip. My Troublemakers cap bumps against my leg, and I push back at the frustration biting at the backs of my eyeballs.
He locks eyes with the cute girl who can pull off a helmet. “We can talk more later.”
“If I’m up,” she says, then they both let out this sigh that’s completely harmonized between them. Her dark brown eyes flick to me, and she gives me a friendly wave. “Sorry for being back here. Drama, drama. Needed a private place to chat, you know?” She kicks her skateboard up and slaps it on her shoulder. “See you at home, Pete.”
She squeezes by me, her skateboard coming awfully close to the time clock on the wall. The heavy break room door shuts with a click behind her.
My mouth hangs open like a dead fish. Okay, I probably owe him an apology for the interruption, but I can’t remember what accusations I said out loud versus what I said internally, and I don’t want another Amber incident when I overanalyze and then make a butt of myself.
Pete crosses his arms and falls sideways until his shoulder hits the wall. “I really gotta clock back in, Candace.”
I shake my head to clear it, but I can’t help myself. “You could’ve gotten caught. Fired, even.”
“I didn’t.” Yeah, there’s something super off about him right now. “And I’m pretty sure you would welcome my termination.”
My brow furrows, and as he pushes off the wall to step around me, I quickly jump in his way. “I don’t want you fired.”
“Aww, that’s sweet.” His joke falls flat, and concern pulls at my heartstrings. “If you really mean that, you’ll let me clock in.”
“But… I need to—”
“No offense, Candace, but I don’t have the energy or the time to help you become, what was it? Badass?”
I want to correct him. I wouldn’t say the a-word, even if it’s attached to another word. But since he doesn’t seem in the mood, I keep that comment locked in my brain.
“I won’t take too much of your time or energy,” I say, rushing my words as he scoots around me. He plucks his time card from the pile hanging on the wall and slips it in to punch. “I only need some tips. Maybe someone to help me through the more difficult stuff.”
I’m desperate. Images of last night’s art class start floating to my brain, the edges hazy as I try to stay in the hallway with Pete. I don’t want to admit to him what a walking, talking joke I am. He probably already knows.
He puts his time card in his slot and shakes his head. “Seriously, Candace, I can’t. I just got a dump loaded on my plate, and I’ll most likely be working day in and out for the foreseeable future. My free time is gonna be for eating, sleeping, and peeing.” A small smile cracks on his face, and I’m happy to see some of the usual Pete is still in there. “Like a wittle baby.”
He makes a cradle motion, and it gets a laugh out of me. I follow him out of the break room, jogging to keep up with his long strides toward Wheel Zone.
“You need