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I’d like you to meet Tiffany.” And he whispers, “The black girl.”
    Shelli and I stand there next to the sundae machine at the Bunza Hut, while poor Tiffany, skinny and incredibly shy, follows Mr. Baum in next to the front counter.
    â€œHi.”
    â€œHi.”
    Mr. Baum smiles a ridiculous fake smile. He seriously looks deranged.
    â€œYou totally pull off that uniform better than me.” I don’t know what else to say, so I just say it. It’s true, though. A yellow polo and Kelly-green shorts is not an easy look to pull off. Let’s face it. I look like a can of 7UP. But this girl? She’s kind of rocking it.
    â€œOh . . . thanks.”
    She is rocking it in the most painfully shy way possible.
    â€œWell, Anika, I’m counting on you to show her the ropes!”
    â€œYes, Mr. Baum.”
    Of course he doesn’t even look at Shelli. I guess she won’t be showing anyone any ropes around here anytime soon.
    â€œAnika, do you mind if I talk to you, in private?”
    â€œUm . . . okay.”
    Mr. Baum hustles me into the back office—it’s really more like a closet with Post-its everywhere. Violation central.
    â€œAnika, I know you probably are not happy with this situation. For obvious reasons.”
    â€œReally? Like what?”
    â€œYou know.”
    â€œYou know what?”
    â€œBecause . . .”
    â€œBecause what?”
    â€œBecause she’s a . . . negro.”
    â€œA negro ?”
    â€œYes, Anika. And I need you there to make sure she understands . . . the concepts.”
    â€œThe concepts?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhat, like, if you buy a combo special it’s fifty cents cheaper?”
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œWow. Um—”
    â€œListen, I need someone up there who’s smart. You’re a straight A student—”
    â€œThat’s an accident. I’m only a straight A student because if I’m not my dad won’t love me.”
    â€œIs that true, Anika?”
    â€œPretty much.”
    â€œWell, I’d like to talk to him sometime—”
    â€œYou’d have to call Romania, or Princeton. He goes back and forth . . . It’s kinda hard to figure out where he is, actually.”
    Silence.
    â€œWhy don’t you have Shelli teach her?”
    â€œC’mon. Shelli’s a bubblehead.”
    â€œSo, Shelli’s a bubblehead and Tiffany’s a negro. Geez. You know, I’m Romanian. What weird thing do you think about me?”
    â€œIt’s possible you might be a vampire.”
    â€œMr. Baum. I don’t mind helping. But, seriously, I think you should maybe give this girl a chance.”
    â€œI am giving her a chance. I hired her, didn’t I?”
    Poor guy.
    He has no idea I’m stealing his profits.
    And poisoning him.
    But, in my defense, I think this conversation kind of proves he deserves it.
    Â 
    Thank God it’s a slow night and we get out of there early. On the car ride home with Mom, I can’t help but think about Tiffany and how stupid Mr. Baum is. It doesn’t seem fair he just gets to think all this horrible stuff right off the bat and meanwhile she’s just like this skinny little thing that probably needs a job real bad. I know they say that’s the way the cookie crumbles and all. But you can’t help but wonder why there’s any cookie-crumbling going on in the first place.
    We pull up at the 76 gas station.
    â€œMom, how come we don’t go to church?”
    â€œOh, honey, that’s just a bunch of nutjobs.”
    â€œWull, Shelli’s mom goes all the time.”
    â€œLook, if you wanna go, go, but when they start thumping that Bible, talking about right from wrong, who’s naughty and who’s nice, who’s gonna get to heaven and who’s gonna burn in hell, you might want to start to look for the exits.”
    Beat.
    â€œIf you