Chapter 8
THE GRIFTERS
Something changed between Layla and me after that first Tuesday together. We’d come to an unspoken agreement about each other: I could tell she thought I was pretty awesome, and trust me, the feeling was mutual. I’d never been buddies with a girl before but who better to break that streak than a cool chick like Layla?
Yeah, I was still into her, but I’d kind of resigned myself to the fact that we couldn’t be anything more than friends. At least for now. Because the fact of the matter was, we actually made pretty great friends. It was kind of weird to think we’d only known each other for two weeks. It felt like I’d known her a lot longer. And I know she felt the same.
What can I say? Sometimes, when it comes to certain people, you just click.
I still wanted to suck her face, however.
By the time I came into school on Friday, I was confident she’d be ecstatic to hear my big news. I kept it to myself all day, waiting for English class to spill the beans.
As luck would have it, Coach Ritter was substituting that class, basically ensuring that fifth period would be a free-for-all. He’d apparently secured an AV cart for the day, and had chosen some random After School Special for our viewing pleasure. The entire class was doing anything but watching it, and Coach was too invested in his newspaper to give a damn.
Layla took her seat as soon as we walked into the room. I perched a hip on the corner of her desk and just let out with it. “Hey, guess what?”
“What?”
I huffed a breath against my knuckles and rubbed them against my shirt. “You’re looking at the newest employee of Totally Videos.”
Her eyes went wide as the corners of her lips turned into an elated smile. “Shut up! You got the job? You’re kidding!”
“Nope. I start on Monday.”
Her jaw gaped. “I’m on Mondays! We’ll be working together! Oh, this is going to be so cool. What other days did you get?”
I couldn’t help but grin like a fool. I was happy to see she was as excited about this as I was. “Wednesday and Friday.”
“Hmmm. I’m Monday, Thursday, and Friday.”
“Two out of three ain’t bad.”
“You’re not kidding. Oh my God. What did your father say when you told him you had to quit?”
I’d suffered through thirty-some-odd hours at that boring office job, every minute of which was spent in pure misery. But because I always put on a brave face and worked hard, my father was pretty shocked when I told him I was quitting. It wasn’t like I was leaving him out in the cold, for godsakes. I made sure that every file was put in its proper spot before giving my notice. He only gave me the job in the first place because I was his son. It wasn’t like he’d be left scrambling to try and fill my vacant position or anything.
Didn’t stop the screaming match that ensued immediately upon my resignation, however.
I didn’t want to get into all that with Layla. “He wasn’t thrilled, but he’s happy it’s at least because I got another job.”
“A shitty job!”
“A shitty job that’s enabling us to make our movie. Did you get the camera yet?”
“I did! I felt like such a thief. Darnit. If I’d only waited a few extra days, you could have boosted the thing instead of me.”
I chuckled at her use of an old-timey word like “boosted.” “Hey, easy there, Bonnie. No one’s stealing anything. We’re giving it back when we’re done.”
“I’m aware of that, Clyde,” she said, shooting me a sidelong glance. Damn, this girl just got me. “But if we get busted even borrowing the thing, now we’ll both have a job to lose. Either that or Martin will keep us around just to torture us with boxing duty.”
“What’s that?”
She sighed heavily before answering, “You know how the video covers never have the actual videos in them? Just a block of Styrofoam?”
“Yeah....?”
“Well, they don’t come to the store like that. Whenever there’s a new shipment of movies—which is often, by the way—we’re the ones that have to stuff them. It sucks. Most of the job does, actually. Don’t say I didn’t try and warn you.”
“Nah,” I snickered. “We’re gonna have a blast. You’ll see.”
My statement was proven true my very first day on the job. Lay and I drove into work together, so she was able to direct me to the employee lot in the back. I parked near a mesh dumpster filled with cardboard boxes, and Layla chose that moment to warn me. “Oh, hey, wait. Trip. Hold up.” She put a hand on my bare forearm, causing a lightning bolt to shoot across my skin. “Do not let Martin know that we know each other.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“I’m pretty sure he’s sorry he ever hired me. It would only validate his regret to see how much goofier I am when I’m with you.”
I laughed. She was right. We were total idiots with each other.
As we were getting out of the truck, I promised, “I’ll keep it under wraps. Scout’s honor.”
“You were a boy scout?”
I winked and shot back, “Only when it comes to you, sweetheart.”
She knew my endearments were always delivered firmly tongue-in-cheek, but even still, I could tell she was starting to like it whenever I called her that.
Lay headed in first, allowing for a few stealthy minutes to separate our arrivals.
When I reported to the back office as instructed, I was surprised to find that Martin was a kid, not much older than me. He sounded a lot older on the phone. In any case, he seemed competent enough as he handed me a navy blue vest and a nametag before showing me around the store. Throughout the entirety of my training, Layla kept catching my attention to roll her eyes at me in solidarity. I guessed she’d had to endure this same nonsensical tutorial, too.
Martin was a bit of a tool and he took his shit job way too seriously, but he didn’t seem like a particularly bad dude. I’d had way worse bosses than him before.
It was determined that my main duties would be stock and cleanup, but he still had Layla teach me how to work the register “just in case.” After that, she took advantage of my newfound skill and left me to man the front counter while she emptied out the returns bin.
She was busy putting the returned movies back on their shelves while Martin was cooped up in the back room probably whacking off or something, which left me to take care of the customers.
Problem was, there weren’t any.
“Hey, Lay!” I called.
Layla had her arms loaded with a stack of video tapes. She didn’t even turn toward me to answer, “What?”
“I’m kinda bored out of my frigging mind right now.”
She didn’t break stride to suggest, “Well, instead of just standing there with your thumb up your butt, why don’t you find something to do?”
Challenge accepted. I waited for Layla’s back to be turned before hopping the counter and dropping into a low crouch, creeping stealthily around to the candy display, grabbing a big-ass bag of Skittles on my way to the Drama section. I peeked over the shelf, scoping out my target only two aisles away. Quietly, I tore a corner off the bag and poured a few candies on the floor, preparing my battle station.
I got a good line of sight on my prey before flinging a Skittle at her, watching as it whizzed past her hair. At first, she wasn’t sure what had happened. She turned toward the counter only to find that I wasn’t there, then gave a scan around the store. When she went back to work, I threw another one at her. It pinged off the shelf behind her and ricocheted off her arm. No way to ignore that one.
I ducked back down and tried to stifle my laughter as she sighed, “Trip. I know you’re over there.”
I raised my voice an octave and mumbled out the corner of my mouth, “Whooo’s Triiip?”
Her giggles almost set me off on a laughing fit of my own, and it took me a minute to pull myself together. By the time I snuck another peek, she wasn’t in the same spot anymore. I knew she couldn’t have gone far, so I threw a handful of Skittles in her general direction.
Her scream echoed through the store, followed by her admonition. “I’m ignoring you!”
Oh yeah? Let’s see her try to ignore this. I tore the bag wide open with my teeth and threw it over the wall, grenade-style. I abandoned my attempt at stealth and stood up in time to see the rainbow explosion of Skittle-shrapnel pinging off the shelves.
Layla screamed her head off as she dropped the stack of tapes in her hands and covered her head. My victory was short-lived, however, because once I ran over and saw her cowering on the floor, I actually felt really bad. Shit.
I started to apologize, but when she dropped her arms from her face I could see she was laughing her ass off. “You idiot!” she cackled. “You almost killed me!”
There was candy everywhere. She scraped a handful off the floor and threw it at me, but I swiped my arm across a shelf, blocking her assault with a shield of display boxes.
And then I ran.
She picked up one of the abandoned tapes from the floor and hurled it at me in retaliation just as I turned the corner. I ducked out of the way and crashed into the poster display, knocking it over and sending its contents rolling across the carpet.
I crouched down behind Action Adventure and coiled my body, ready to spring into attack as I heard her clunky footsteps stomping toward me. But when I looked up, it wasn’t Layla standing over me.
It was Martin.
“What are you two doing?” he asked, torn between confusion and outrage.
“Sorry, Martin,” I answered. “I uh, I dropped a bag of candy.”
He scanned his eyes around the war zone. “And a bin of movie posters and a shelf of videos and...”
Layla piped up in an attempt to save my ass. “We’re sorry, Martin. We got a little carried away.” She aimed an innocent-as-pie look at him, her wide eyes pleading.
Martin knew damn well we were full of shit, but he decided to take mercy on us anyway. “Just clean up this mess before any customers come in and see it!” He ran a hand through his greasy hair and laid on the managerial charm, “And if you want to keep your jobs, I suggest you never pull anything like this ever again!”
It was torture waiting for him to walk away, the both of us avoiding each other’s eyes as we choked back our laughter. But the second the office door closed behind him, we completely lost our shit. The two of us fell to the floor as we held our sides, actual tears streaming down our faces.
We pulled ourselves together soon enough and simply went about the task of cleaning up our mess, crawling around on the carpet on our hands and knees, busting each other’s chops.
“Now presenting Layla Streep in her star-making role as Mother Theresa,” I teased. “What was with that good-little-Catholic-girl look you shot him? Holy crap, I’m starting to think I picked the right actress for my movie.”
Layla giggled and shot back, “Me? What about you?” She hunched her shoulders and lowered her voice to mumble, “‘I uh... I dropped some candy.’ You almost got us fired, DeNiro!”
“I know. Holy shit. Sorry.”
She waved me off. “Please. It was worth it.”
“We still on for tomorrow?”
She met my eyes, a gleaming smile stretched across her face. “Tuesday is Trip Day. You bet.”
Trip Day. Nice. I popped a Skittle into my mouth, grinning like a madman. “Great. Then it’s a date.”