few boys at McKinley dances, but never really
dated
) — had always seemed ridiculous, something for bad reality TV. This was more like … like a hangnail. Irritating.
Stupid
irritating.
Still, there was a heat coming off these two, and she felt if she stood between them too long, she might also start to burn.
“Come on, Morgan,” she said, walking faster.
The cashier made it known a few paces away that he had no intention of selling to the underage girls. Nevertheless, Morgan,
prepared with a smile, began loading the bottles onto the counter. The man behind it shook his head.
“ID, young lady.” He looked up from behind his reading glasses.
Morgan leaned over far enough to reveal a generous helping of milky breast under her black blouse. “I got my wallet stolen.”
She tucked a stray lock behind her ear and smiled. “Remember? Just last week I was in here and I told you I got my wallet
stolen? As soon as I get it back I’ll come in and show you —”
“No ID, no sale.” The man tapped the “21” sign affixed to the counter. “And I suggest you put these items back on the shelves
before I call the police and have you arrested for trying to procure alcohol underage.” He pushed the bottles back toward
her, one by one. “Hussy,” he muttered, then coughed.
Too shocked to say anything, Ondine stood quiet. Morgan pretended she hadn’t heard. Moth, however, who seemed to miss nothing,
appeared delighted. He smiled and looked at Ondine as if to say,
What did I tell you?
The cashier wiped his nose with the back of his hand, shook his paper out, and started reading it again.
“You, too.” He nodded to Ondine.
“Excuse me?”
A thick, stubbled upper lip curled in Moth’s direction. “And you can think again if you want this little turd here to buy
for you.”
Ondine and Morgan stood silent, hands at their sides. Ondine’s mouth hung open as if she intended to say somethingbut had forgotten what it was. A wash of pink seeped into Morgan’s cheeks. Moth just laughed.
He stepped in front of the two girls, smiling calmly. Raising his right hand — the one with the silver ring, the wristwatch,
and the tattoo — to his lips, he shushed the older man. The cashier stiffened for a second, his face knotted, then by increments
he relaxed. Moth kept shushing and the man behind the counter softened. Ondine watched. Morgan watched. The softer and longer
Moth shushed, his finger still to his mouth, the quieter and more passive the cashier became.
He lowered his fingers and placed his hand on the counter.
The cashier smiled as if he had never seen Moth before. “Well, sir,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, I think you can just ring us up.”
Ondine felt dizzy and placed a hand on the counter to steady herself. She pulled it back when the cashier smiled at her, too.
“Yes, dear?”
“Nothing.”
She didn’t understand what was going on. One second the cashier was calling them hussies and turds, now this? She looked at
Morgan. The girl was biting her lip, her eyes wide. Whatever was going on, it was clear she liked it.
“Never you mind, young Ondine.” Moth didn’t take his eyes from the cashier’s. “Just put the bottles in the bag.”
“No!” She turned and stared. “You tell me what’s going onor I’m out of here. And you —” She turned to face the cashier. “Why did
you
change your mind?”
“Shut up, Ondine!” Morgan whispered.
The cashier spoke, his phlegmy voice now kind. “A few chocolates for the girls, sir?”
“Excuse me, but what the hell did you do to this guy, Moth?”
“Make sure you still eat your dinner.” The cashier spoke over her, reaching under the counter and placing a Hershey’s Kiss
in front of Ondine, another in front of Morgan. He nudged the candies toward them. “Go ahead, girls. They’re all yours.”
Whatever was going on, Ondine realized she would have to deal with it outside. Dazed, she took the candy
dated
) — had always seemed ridiculous, something for bad reality TV. This was more like … like a hangnail. Irritating.
Stupid
irritating.
Still, there was a heat coming off these two, and she felt if she stood between them too long, she might also start to burn.
“Come on, Morgan,” she said, walking faster.
The cashier made it known a few paces away that he had no intention of selling to the underage girls. Nevertheless, Morgan,
prepared with a smile, began loading the bottles onto the counter. The man behind it shook his head.
“ID, young lady.” He looked up from behind his reading glasses.
Morgan leaned over far enough to reveal a generous helping of milky breast under her black blouse. “I got my wallet stolen.”
She tucked a stray lock behind her ear and smiled. “Remember? Just last week I was in here and I told you I got my wallet
stolen? As soon as I get it back I’ll come in and show you —”
“No ID, no sale.” The man tapped the “21” sign affixed to the counter. “And I suggest you put these items back on the shelves
before I call the police and have you arrested for trying to procure alcohol underage.” He pushed the bottles back toward
her, one by one. “Hussy,” he muttered, then coughed.
Too shocked to say anything, Ondine stood quiet. Morgan pretended she hadn’t heard. Moth, however, who seemed to miss nothing,
appeared delighted. He smiled and looked at Ondine as if to say,
What did I tell you?
The cashier wiped his nose with the back of his hand, shook his paper out, and started reading it again.
“You, too.” He nodded to Ondine.
“Excuse me?”
A thick, stubbled upper lip curled in Moth’s direction. “And you can think again if you want this little turd here to buy
for you.”
Ondine and Morgan stood silent, hands at their sides. Ondine’s mouth hung open as if she intended to say somethingbut had forgotten what it was. A wash of pink seeped into Morgan’s cheeks. Moth just laughed.
He stepped in front of the two girls, smiling calmly. Raising his right hand — the one with the silver ring, the wristwatch,
and the tattoo — to his lips, he shushed the older man. The cashier stiffened for a second, his face knotted, then by increments
he relaxed. Moth kept shushing and the man behind the counter softened. Ondine watched. Morgan watched. The softer and longer
Moth shushed, his finger still to his mouth, the quieter and more passive the cashier became.
He lowered his fingers and placed his hand on the counter.
The cashier smiled as if he had never seen Moth before. “Well, sir,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, I think you can just ring us up.”
Ondine felt dizzy and placed a hand on the counter to steady herself. She pulled it back when the cashier smiled at her, too.
“Yes, dear?”
“Nothing.”
She didn’t understand what was going on. One second the cashier was calling them hussies and turds, now this? She looked at
Morgan. The girl was biting her lip, her eyes wide. Whatever was going on, it was clear she liked it.
“Never you mind, young Ondine.” Moth didn’t take his eyes from the cashier’s. “Just put the bottles in the bag.”
“No!” She turned and stared. “You tell me what’s going onor I’m out of here. And you —” She turned to face the cashier. “Why did
you
change your mind?”
“Shut up, Ondine!” Morgan whispered.
The cashier spoke, his phlegmy voice now kind. “A few chocolates for the girls, sir?”
“Excuse me, but what the hell did you do to this guy, Moth?”
“Make sure you still eat your dinner.” The cashier spoke over her, reaching under the counter and placing a Hershey’s Kiss
in front of Ondine, another in front of Morgan. He nudged the candies toward them. “Go ahead, girls. They’re all yours.”
Whatever was going on, Ondine realized she would have to deal with it outside. Dazed, she took the candy
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