The Hazards of Skinny Dipping

Chapter Six

To: amy_monroe@mail.com

From: juliethegreat14@mail.com

Subject: Hey Hey Hey

Dear Amy,

Dylan asked me out. I'm trying not to worry too much, but I don't want to mess things up. BTW Kyle got hot. Oh, and you're right. I'd win any boob competition.

Love,

Your Hotter and Bustier Cousin,

Juliet

P.S. How are things going over there?

"Here, change into this." Reed tossed me an Al's Pizza t-shirt.

"Now?"

"Yes, you can change in the bathroom." He pointed to a door with a white, stenciled Marilyn Monroe on it.

"That's okay. I can wear it over my tank." I turned away from Reed as I pulled it over my head.

"Nice." He nodded.

"I look fantastic, don't I?" To be honest, the fitted girls' tee didn't look too bad.

"Of course."

"Now what?" I glanced around the empty restaurant. The only job I'd had before was lifeguarding. This was new territory for me.

"We sit around."

"What?"

"No one comes in here until at least nine-thirty or ten."

"Why?"

"People don't want to eat this pizza unless they're drunk."

"Then how does Al stay in business?" I glanced around the place. It certainly wasn't the décor that brought people in. The booths had seen better days, and the fading paint on the walls didn't look any better.

"College kids get drunk a lot."

I laughed. "Why keep it open during the day?"

"That, I can't tell you, but we never open before four thirty."

"How are my hours going to work?"

Reed spun a beer bottle lid around like a top. "How many hours do you want to work?"

"Maybe a few shifts a week."

"I'm guessing you don't want to work weekends."

"I'd prefer not to, but..."

He leaned back against the counter. "Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights from five to midnight."

"That's a lot of hours."

"Most of them will be like this. Bring your books. Get your homework done."

"Is there any flexibility if I need to be somewhere?"

He smiled. "For someone desperate for a job, you're very demanding."

"Sorry. I know."

"If you need to skip a shift, we'll talk about it."

"Will there always be someone here?"

He put a hand in his pocket. "Me."

"Really?" Reed seemed like the kind of guy who liked to go out. Did he really work that much?

"Yes. I don't trust you to work alone. Besides, you're not going to be cooking. Your job's to ring people up and serve."

I wasn't sure whether to be insulted by his 'I don't trust you' comment. Either way, I didn't actually want to work alone.