Dumplin - Julie Murphy Page 0,64

gave Alejandro my notice, and he kind of looked at me like, What took you so long? He promised me that I’d always have a job at the Chili Bowl and asked me to give Ellen his number. I slipped the folded scrap of paper in my pocket and swore to forget about it. I was all nerves when I told Mitch I was going back to Harpy’s, but he shrugged it off and kept playing his video game. It occurred to me then that he had no reason to be upset. For the first time, not telling him about my history with Bo felt like a lie.

My first night back at Harpy’s is quiet. Marcus berates me with endless questions about the Chili Bowl, like, “Who makes the chili?” or “Is it true you guys don’t wash the pots?”

Bo keeps to himself in the kitchen, but we play a game of Catch Me If You Can with our eyes over the heat lamp counters. When Bo’s on his break, Marcus leans over and says, “He almost got fired a couple weeks after you left.”

“What?” The way Ron made it seem, he couldn’t afford to fire anyone, so I can’t imagine what Bo could’ve done that was bad enough to get fired.

“Ron had Bo up on the front counter while he worked the kitchen, which was a bad idea to begin with, and these guys from his old school came in, and Bo refused to serve them. Just flat-out told them they weren’t welcome. The dudes made a big deal about it. Even their parents made a big deal about it, and basically the only way Bo could keep his job was if Ron only kept him in the kitchen.”

“Whoa.”

“He’s one crazy dude. I feel like he’s either going to murder everyone or be, like, a movie star. There’s no in between for that guy.”

I like that about Bo. You were either for him or against him.

Marcus goes off on a tangent about different schools that his girlfriend, Tiffanie, is looking at and how he’s going to a community college near whatever school she chooses. He doesn’t really pause to ask me a question or get my take on any of it, but he seems to take comfort in talking without someone lecturing him on why he shouldn’t be planning his life around a girl. I don’t know. Maybe Tiffanie and Marcus will go off to school and graduate and get married and live happily ever after. But I don’t want to be the asshole he worked with at a fast-food restaurant who planted a seed of doubt in his head.

After cleanup, I take my bag out of my locker and find a red sucker there. I try not to smile as I slide it into my purse.

Bo says nothing. He doesn’t even make eye contact with me. But as we’re all walking out the door, I unwrap the sucker and pop it in my mouth.

It’s a cherry-flavored olive branch.

When I get home from work, I find my mom on her knees with Lacey Sanders standing on a step stool in a formal gown and Bekah Cotter on my couch, tapping away on her cell phone.

“Hi, Dumplin’,” says Mom through the straight pins between her teeth. “Lacey, how’s this hemline, dear? You can’t go any higher on those heels, you hear?”

Lacey smacks her gum and blows a bubble. “Roger that.”

Lots of things happen around pageant season, but Mom altering dresses in the middle of our living room is not one of them. There’s also the fact that with Bekah sitting here in my house, my brain is going into high-alert mode like one of Mitch’s video games. Red letters flash above Bekah’s head. TARGET. TARGET.

I feel weird going upstairs with all of them down here, so I sit on the couch and lightly click my tongue until Riot comes out of hiding.

Bekah glances up from her phone and turns to me. “Oh, hey. You work at Harpy’s. You must know Bo.” She doesn’t even know to be threatened by me because why would she?

Lacey spins around and I see the terror on my mother’s face. “Lacey, honey, you have got to stay still.”

“Sorry, Miss D.” She blows another bubble.

I glance down at my uniform. “Well, I did over the summer, and I just started back there again today. Why?” My tone is sharp, but Bekah doesn’t seem to notice.

“He’s a strange one,” says Lacey.

“He’s my escort,” says Bekah. “For the

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