Dumplin'

I nod. “She must have lost it when she found out. Does anyone know who did it?”


“Tim says some guys on the golf team, but that they can’t get in trouble because no one can prove anything and it didn’t happen at school.”

“That’s such bullshit.”

Tim and El drive me home and wait for me to change into my Chili Bowl uniform shirt. They drop me off at work and Ellen promises to come back for me later with her mom’s car.

I brace myself for Alejandro. He’s got to be pissed that I missed so much work, but when I walk in, he asks, “You’re not still grounded, are you?”

I shake my head.

“Good. ’Cause I don’t cross moms. Anyone’s mom. So if you’re lying, you can go home.”

“Not lying,” I say. “Totally free.”

Around seven, Ellen walks in. “Sorry, my mom would only let me take the car if I ate dinner with them.”

“It’s cool.”

She hoists herself up on the other end of the counter and whispers, “This place smells like onions and BO. I still don’t get why you quit Harpy’s for this shitter.”

“Better pay,” I lie as I lean forward, practically laying my upper body on the counter. “How much do you think I can get a formal for? This pageant isn’t going to be cheap.”

She shrugs. “Maybe a couple hundred bucks. You could try Goodwill, too.”

The cowbell above the door rings. I stand up, totally caught off guard by the prospect of a customer. Ellen doesn’t budge.

Millie Michalchuk waves at the two of us as she walks in. She smiles at me and an immediate guilt for any less-than-nice thing I’ve ever thought about her weighs me down like an anchor.

“Hey, Millie.” Ellen gives a short wave.

“So what can I get you today?” I ask.

She drops her keys down on the counter, and there are at least twenty-six key chains on her key ring with all of two keys. “A pint of house chili.” She pauses. “And some crackers.”

“You got it.”

After she pays, Millie picks up some plasticware from the condiment bar while I spoon her chili out from the pot.

“So,” Ellen says, “the registration fee can’t be more than two hundred bucks, right?”

“I guess. I have five hundred and sixty-eight dollars in savings, so if the whole thing costs more than that, I’m going to have to get a second job.” I press the lid down on Millie’s to-go cup. “Here ya go!”

Her eyes skip back and forth between El and me before taking her chili and walking out the door.

El watches as Millie pulls out of the parking lot. “That was weird-ish.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Well, she’s kind of weird all on her own.”

We hang out all night and when Alejandro comes out from his office, Ellen slides off the counter and pretends to be a customer. He runs the nightly report on my register and as he’s walking back to his office, he calls over his shoulder, “Tell your friend we’re hiring!”











TWENTY-EIGHT


I run into school, shielding myself from the rain with my backpack held up above my head. I stop to wipe my feet on the doormat.

“Will?” Millie stands off to the side against the lockers, wearing floral leggings with a matching tunic.

I step toward her to get out of the way of incoming students. “Hey. What’s going on, Millie?”

She pulls on her backpack straps so that they dig into her shoulders. “I heard you talking last night to Ellen. About the pageant.”

I’m taken aback. “Yeah, we—”

She leans in and whispers, “You’re entering, aren’t you?”

“I . . . well, yeah. I am.”

A wide grin spreads across her face, pushing her cheeks up and out. She claps her hands together like I’ve done some sort of trick. “That’s amazing.”

I turn toward her so that my back is to the stream of students. “Listen,” I say. “It’s not a secret, but I don’t wanna make a big deal of this, okay?”

“Yes. Right, of course.”

Something about her smile makes me uneasy. “Okay.”

Murphy,Julie's books