Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I ran ahead of them to the locker room. I showered quickly, got dressed, then ran back to our house and made a sandwich, which I ate on the way to Shenanigans. Braxton was scowling the second I walked through the door.
“Hey, bestie. Did you miss me?” Don’t think about how he said he might fuck you, don’t think about how he said he might fuck you. Which was exactly what I was doing. I willed my dick not to get too excited about the possibility—which was not a real possibility. I wasn’t going to fuck around with Braxton. I’d never let him know how much I wanted him.
“Is it your goal to make my life hell?”
“I mean…basically yes. You do make it too easy, though. A little competition would be nice.”
“Fu—”
“Tyson, you’re here,” Oscar said, cutting off what I was sure was a fuck-you.
“Yes, sir. Ready for my first day.” There were about ten or twelve people there, but it was still early.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He turned to Braxton. “Want to show Tyson how to get clocked in and then give him a brief rundown of how things work?”
I couldn’t say I was excited about what I’d be doing. I would be the guy who wiped down the tables, took the dirty dishes to the back, washed them, and shit like that, but hey, it was a job, and I knew my father would hate it. If I was going to be working at all right now, he would expect it to be something to do with computers.
“Yeah, sure. Of course,” Braxton replied.
“I’ll be in the back. Let me know if things pick up and you need me,” Oscar said before disappearing.
Braxton eyed me while I walked behind the counter…at my new job…where I would have to work… Jesus, this sucked.
“Why are you really here?” he asked.
“Dad thinks I need more responsibility.” I shrugged, lying again.
“I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to.”
He sighed. “Did you download the app?”
I nodded and pulled my phone out. Braxton was standing next to me as I scrolled.
“Pfft.”
“What did I do now, Sunshine? Breathe?”
“That and…” Braxton flipped a page back. “Of course you have a hookup app.”
“Well, ya know, I like sex. I’m good at it too. With your awesome personality, I figure that’s the only way you can get laid, so don’t tell me you don’t have one. Unless…oh shit, are you saving yourself for me?”
He ignored that last question. “It’s not hard for me to find sex. Believe me.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I’m serious.”
“I agreed with you.”
“Yeah, but you said it in that stupid voice where—you know what? Never mind.” He ripped my phone out of my hand like he owned the damn thing, opened the work app, and clocked me in.
“Are you two done flirting now so I can get another beer?” a guy asked.
Oops.
“We weren’t flirting,” Braxton replied.
The dude next to the first guy said, “Seriously, you guys should just bone and get it over with.”
“He wishes.” Braxton took their glasses and filled them. “Come on, Lacrosse. I saved the tables just for you.”
He told Gwen, the head bartender, that he’d be back. She had bright-pink hair, septum and lip piercings, and a wide smile.
Braxton led me through the swinging doors and pointed to the left. “Sink. Dishwasher. Clean dishes there. Dirty there.” With each word, he used his finger to show me where he was talking about. “The bins are kept here for you to put the dishes in, clean washcloths in this cabinet.” He opened and closed it. “Soap is in this one.” He did the same with the next. “I’m assuming you can figure out the washer, but you might not have ever had to run one before, even at home, so if you need me to, I can show you how.”
“I know how to wash dishes,” I snapped, though it was obviously different from the machines at home.
“Well, you never know. You are the prince of Lacrosse, after all.”
“King.”
He rolled his eyes before heading to the other side of the kitchen.
“Who’s the newbie?” a guy asked. He looked familiar from campus, but I didn’t know his name. He was by the grills and fryers.
“Benny, Tyson. Tyson, Benny, a.k.a. SpongeBob.”
“Friendly neighborhood fry cook at your service,” Benny replied.
“’Sup?” I nodded at him before turning to Braxton. “Since you’re so grumpy, does that make you Squidward?”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Krabs,” Braxton replied.
Shit. I stepped right into that.
We left the kitchen and continued down a hallway. “Storage rooms are back here. That’s not your job, but we all pitch in and help when needed. For now, you can head out there and clean the tables, wipe them down, then run the washer.”
“Yes, sir!” I mock-saluted him.
He shook his head, took a couple of steps, and stopped. “I hope you take this seriously. A lot of us are here because we need this job. It’s not a joke to us, nor a choice. And there are others out there who need the work more than you.”