Salmonella

Chapter 6

🫧Six🫧

The rich woman has me cornered, blocking my only escape. Of course I could try and make a dive for the basement, but the other guys are in there and I don't need to embarrass myself even more. I could go to the back room, but Asslas is in there, and that's even worse. I silently curse him for taking his sweet time getting the first-aid, wishing him very bad luck and a very short life.

Just how do I save myself now? What would Asslas say in a situation like this? Ah, yes. 'When in doubt, point 'em in the paint route.'

I turn my professional self on. "Can I interest you in some acrylics? There's a color chart on the desk that'll tell you where everythi—"

Genesis inhales deeply as though taking all the strength she can muster to calm herself. "I'm not here for the paints. You're deflecting." She narrows her eyes at me accusingly. "You stole my ride, didn't you?"

I try to protest but let out a squeak instead. "I—Look, I." I shut my eyes, figuring an apology is my best option right now. Best to just be honest and polite and worm my way out of getting sued.

"You're right. I'm sorry." Calmly, I reopen my eyes. "I lied about being you and having a reservation. I was swimming late and really desperate for a ride today. It won't happen again, so please don't sue me. And please don't be mad at the dolph, because I'm the one who deceived it; it was just doing its job—"

"Sue you?" she cries, silencing me. She throws back her head, laughing in a really unnecessarily dramatic way. Will Asslas and the others get their asses back here already? They've got to be doing this to me on purpose. "Oh, please! Like I'd waste my time suing a nobody like you over one little ride! However much I'd get out of you wouldn't mean anything to me." She inches closer, dark eyes locked on me, voice all slow and silky. "No, that money probably means a lot more to a paint store employee, who by the looks of it... is still in school? Still living with Mommy and Daddy?"

Mommy and Daddy? My eyes glaze over, not hearing whatever shit she says next. No, I don't live with Mom and 'Dad', who abandoned me, stranding me at home with those stupid girls. Beautiful, successful girls who have everything they could possibly need, yet still do everything they can to take away what little I have. My self-esteem, my confidence, everything. The very least they could do is care about me. But god, I guess at the end of the day, telling me how to change my body and making me wear clothes I hate is their twisted way of caring for me.

But being cared for isn't supposed to hurt.

Then why does it hurt so much?

"Oh my god, what is wrong with you?" I seethe. I don't usually curse in front of merple; don't use words as benign as "shit" or "god" — always trying my hardest not to accidentally offend anyone. But I'm tired, goddammit. I don't need to be berated or humiliated any more today.

"I already apologized! How much was the ride? I'll pay you back if you want! I was even going to help patch up your damn tail! But if all you're going to do is insult me, which doesn't help the situation at all, then you might as well get out."

She gawks at me, exhaling in a surprised sound that's something like a laugh but not even that. "Get out?" she echoes slowly. "Of Kelp Paints?"

Yes, does it look like I'm joking? Is this girl delusional? "Yeah, what? You think you're entitled to this store, too? Do you have a 'reservation'?" I mock in a high-pitched voice. She gapes at me, and I'm about to threaten to speak to the manager when management grabs my arm.

Oh, shit. He comes up behind me, making my stomach lurch. Did he hear all that?

"Heyyy Gen, sorry for the wait," Asslas purrs, back to his fake-friendly voice. "One of the guys must have misplaced the first-aid. Go ahead and take a seat!"

While Genesis lowers herself begrudgingly to a stool, I try to make my escape, but Asslas' grip on my arm tightens. "I am so sorry about her behavior, Gen; she's new," he says tightly, pulling me to him like he's presenting me in a show-and-tell from hell. Geez, if he has to lie about me being new, I must be in some deep shit. Asslas may put on a lot of fake smiles, but I know him; this man wouldn't blatantly lie to save his life. If I could melt into fluids right here and now, I would.

"I hope you can forgive her. Get back to work right now." He hisses that last part to me, and I don't have to be told twice.

I wipe madly at some paint cans until they shine brighter than my future as Asslas fixes up Genesis' tail, gives her gauze to take with her, and apologizes many times over. She just sounds soft and exhausted now—playing the victim, acting like she wasn't a complete bitch to me a second ago. Is she kissing up to him, or does she just look down on me? Both, probably. God, I get it. He's Atlas Índigo, a prodigy and all, and I'm just some broke college kid living off a minimum wage job. Why be nice to me? I'm nobody.

"So what are you doing here?" he asks gently when he's done patching her up.

"Came to talk to you about..." The rest I don't hear, because her voice grows more hushed and it's obvious I'm not supposed to hear it, so I politely move a little farther away. They talk for a while; whatever it is sounds serious, but as I hate both their asses, I couldn't care less what issue they're facing. Serves them right.

Finally, Genesis leaves the damn store, and now that my cowards of coworkers still won't return from the basement, I'm again left alone in a room with someone mad at me.

He clears his throat, making me oblige and turn politely around so he won't geyser me. "I'm sorry, Índigo, sir—"

"God, Bentik," he sighs right over my words. "You have to behave yourself. You're lucky Gen and I are cool with each other, or you would have gotten us in a shit ton of trouble with that mouth of yours."

Nevermind, I'm eternally grateful that my coworkers are still in the basement and out of earshot.

"Are you just clueless, or is this some sort of vendetta?" he continues. "Do you not like rich people or something?"

"What do you mean?" I hesitate. It's obvious the woman is rich, but just how rich are we talking?

He stares at me a moment before facepalming. "Oh, so you are clueless. You do know that was Genesis Marmoris, right? Marmoris as in the family that owns the building? And most of the block, at that?"

The building? The building that is this store, that I just tried to kick her out of? "Kelp Paints?" I croak. He nods, smiling all sickly-sweet.

"Oh, crappie. I should apologize."

"Uhh, yeah," he says with a flick of his right hand, the one that's manicured.

"Right." I zoom to the door only for it to shut in my face. "What—?"

"Not right now, you don't," he sighs through his teeth. "Finish your shift first, Bentik. And the rest of you—get back in here!" he yells towards the basement. "This is not an excuse to slack off."

I try to focus on work the rest of the day, even though there are zero customers the whole time, and when I'm finally free, I slam my smock onto its hook and dash past Asslas. Slurping his Starducks drink, he looks up from his conversation with Zig to call after me, but I don't look back. My unspoken rule is taking no orders from Kelp Paints on my off-hours. And they all very well know that.

I go to look for Genesis with the silly hope that she's still nearby, checking everywhere a lady could possibly be, ending with the ice clam parlor across the street. I end up not buying a vegan ice clam even after ordering one, because I don't feel like enjoying dessert when I've messed up so badly today. I don't deserve it.

The woman is nowhere to be seen, so, defeated, I just return to that foreign place supposedly called home.