“Here.” He slid seventy-five cents across the counter. “Donut’s on me. My money is still on Anh.”
I opened the paper and thumbed through the sections. The classifieds were missing. I folded it up and set it on the counter. “Can you swap this for another paper? It’s missing a section.”
“All the important stuff is in there. Besides, what do you need the personals for? Everything you need is right here.” Bao leaned against the corn dog machine and waggled his eyebrows at me.
I felt my face grow hot. “I don’t need the personals,” I lied. “There’s a lot of other stuff in the classifieds too, you know.”
I jumped as a package of Twinkies dropped to the counter in front of me.
“Should I be offended that my cheap cake offerings have been trumped by a fudge cruller from the day old bin?” Jeremy leaned over my shoulder and piled breath mints, a soda, and a candy bar beside the Twinkies, giving Bao something to do other than harass me about the paper.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised.
“Taking you to school.”
“But it’s Friday. Aren’t you supposed to be at—”
Jeremy coughed loudly into his hand, cutting off what I was about to say. “I need someone to share my Twinkies with me. If Anh makes me eat one more carrot stick, my hair will turn orange.” He gave me a pointed look that said Please don’t go there. He didn’t want Bao to know he was seeing a shrink. Since when did he care? Then again, I didn’t want anyone to know I was reading the personals, so I guess we were even.
“Maybe I like redheads. Ever think of that?” Anh emerged from an aisle balancing a cup of fat-free cottage cheese, a banana, and a bottled water. She leveraged her items onto the counter and Bao wrote them all down on an index card rather than ring them up. All the while his eyes were fixed on Jeremy.
“Sharing produce, Anh? Sounds serious.” Bao glared at Jeremy, sizing him up.
Jeremy looked at me with an awkward smile. “Just a few carrot sticks between friends.”
“Ew.” I held out the last bite of my donut to Jeremy. He probably needed it more than I did. He stuffed it into his mouth, looking relieved to have an excuse not to say anything.
“Jeremy’s been giving me a ride to school on Fridays. And in return, I’m trying to save him from a slow death by high triglycerides.”
Jeremy stopped chewing and looked at me sideways. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He hadn’t told me he’d been driving Anh to school on Fridays. And missing appointments with his shrink to do it. Anh kept talking, clueless to our silent exchange.
“Do Mom and Dad know about this?” Bao asked, looking all serious and parental.
“He’s only driving me to school,” she said. “And to the school play—”
“Wow! Would you look at the time! We should probably go . . . to school . . . before we’re late.” Jeremy made a show of looking at his watch, clearly uncomfortable.
An awkward silence passed and we all turned at the sound of the bells when Lonny Johnson pushed open the door. His new friend followed, the one who’d shoved me at school. They drifted in like two dark clouds, and changed the climate of the store.
Jeremy paled and dropped a five on the counter. “Keep the change,” he muttered. “I’ll wait in the car.” He walked quickly toward the door, his eyes lowered. Lonny watched him blow past with a peculiar interest. When the bells hushed, Lonny moved wordlessly to the cooler in the back.
His friend turned his back to the counter and began to browse, walking lazily through the aisles, and pausing in front of the greeting card display. Lingering at the Mother’s Day cards, he grazed one with the tip of his finger, hesitating before he moved on. Then he reached for an item on the snack shelf instead.
“You planning to pay for that?” Bao said loudly. The guy’s fingers hovered over a strand of beef jerky. Bao’s hand reached under the counter. “You girls should get to school,” he said without taking his eyes off the guy’s back.
Anh took a tentative step and gave her brother an anxious look. He jerked his chin to the door, and she followed Jeremy out.
Lonny’s friend snatched up the jerky and strolled slowly to the counter beside me. If he recognized me, he didn’t seem to care. I held my breath when he reached under his jacket. All that came out was a worn leather wallet.
He looked to me where I stood blocking the register, then to Bao, then back to me. One side of his lip curled up and he arched a pierced brow. “Are you in line, or what?” His voice was deep, like he’d just woken up. It sounded more like a growl.
I cleared my throat to get Bao’s attention, but he wouldn’t look away from the guy’s face. “My paper?” I nudged.