Fireworks

29

The next few days at work are amazing. Gone is the hesitation I had when joining a group conversation or hopping in someone's car to drive to Vinnie's or 7-Eleven on breaks. Arlo and I have become a bit closer. We have started working side by side when we can. It's proven to be easy since I typically avoid the registers and he's always doing lifting, it gives us endless time to talk while we both complete separate tasks. Everyone's noticed, but no one's said anything luckily. Monse is probably a few glances away from ripping my hair out every time she notices me talking to him, but Arlo doesn't seem to care, so I don't let it bother me either. Cecily came up to me one afternoon and said she shipped us, and that she'd totally back off. Before I could explain that we were just friends, she had winked and sashayed off.

My new relaxation in the group probably had something to do with Grace dumping all of my secrets out in the open for them all to hear. It makes me uncomfortable to think about, but it was almost a relief to have them know why I was so closed off sometimes.

Three days after the party, June 28th, is the day before my recital. I've been practicing almost unhealthy amounts after and before my shifts since the party, but I can't help the nerves. Luckily I have work to distract me today, but it's probably the hottest day of the summer so far.

"Sweet baby Jesus, I don't think I'm able to take it anymore." Isa groans, sinking in the folding chair she's slouched in. She's fanning herself with a chunk of cardboard from the Black Snake packages we were supposed to be pricing.

Cecily, Monse, Sarah and I were all sitting in the Living Room sweating our butts off under the sun while pricing the last few boxes of poppers. Harriet was getting ice from the gas station, and Mom was sitting a few feet away with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth while on the phone. Dad and Arlo had dragged a new industrial fan under the tent and pointed it so it would perfectly hit everyone working the registers, but unfortunately, it just wasn't cutting it.

"What time is it?" Sarah groans

I check my phone. "It's almost 1:00."

Everyone groans again and Cecily whines, "My shift ends at 7:00. What the hell am I supposed to do until then?"

My shift was supposed to end around that time as well, but I was honestly unsure that I could make it either. I checked the temperature a few minutes ago and it was over 100... that paired with the lack of moving air, beating sun, and suffocating humidity, made me feel like I was in a fever dream.

Montserrat kicks Cecily's foot from where she's laying face down on the grass and says, "Will you shut up? You talking about it only makes me more aware of the fact that it's hotter than the inside of Satan's ass hole out here."

I had worn a pair of jean shorts and a tight tank top today, luckily. I was still a sweating mess, but I was glad at least I wasn't wearing a full tee shirt like Isa and Monse. The guys are under the tent arranging a few of the heavier displays. None of them are wearing shirts, but still, how they could work in these conditions was above me.

I take a swig of my now hot water and frown at the gunpowder that's managed to find its way under my fingernails.

Dad's truck pulls up and Harriet hops out with a grimace on her face. She's carrying a big bag of ice, but it was melting quickly. "This is not okay," she pants when she reaches us, dumping the ice in the cooler.

"How are you standing?" Isa groans

Harriet just plops down next to me in response. "I'm not."

She looks curiously into the box of Black Snakes I had just finished pricing and says, "You guys finished the poppers and black snakes already?"

I wordlessly nod. In all honesty, I had done most of the work but I wasn't about to say anything.