Obedience Lessons

Chapter Eighteen

Dear Readers,

I've found my Evelyn Burrie! Check the picture of Meryl Streep. I think she's pretty close to what I envisioned.

Anyway. Enjoy the chapter!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Andy's POV

My week began on Sundays. In a supermarket to stock shelves and take inventory. I'd work the entire day on Sunday, half-day on Mondays and sometimes Tuesday evenings. Just for a little extra cash so I didn't have to dig too much into the college fund my grandma had left for me, and the cash my parents still sent. There was something distinctly distasteful about asking anyone for money, so I'd gotten a part time job. The pay was okay, and sometimes I'd get extra when I helped out at the cashier counters for Kostsmart.

Mindlessly restocking the shelf that held cans of soup, it was just too easy to think about other things. Other things like the way I'd left Dylan this morning, shaken and silent as he refused to talk to me about what was very obviously bothering him. He stayed tight-lipped about his nightmares and swore that he would be okay when I finally levelled him with my most piercing gaze and asked him if it was about his brother. It had hurt when he lied to me.

Alone with my thoughts I wondered if Dylan even knew the meaning of a relationship. Then again, we'd only known each other less than a week. Maybe it was just time for us to go on a real date, and take things easy... Yeah. I texted him quickly. "Dinner tomorrow night."

He called a few moments after I had hit send and pocketed my phone. When I answered he was trying to quiet Spotty, who kept up a continuous bark. "It's not too late for me to starve you to death," I heard him threaten.

"Dylan," I said, "You will not starve the dog."

"Heyyyyy!" He dragged it out like a kid caught doing something wrong, "I was just kidding. But seriously, can't we just clip his vo-"

"No."

"Okay, okay. No starving or mutilation, got it. So... Dinner?"

"Yeah, don't dress up fancy, we're going somewhere comfortable."

"Where?" He sounded curious.

"Nowhere you've had before rich guy," I countered, "I'll come for you at seven."

"Hmm... I hope so, sir," He replied with a voice dripping with sex appeal.

I hung up with a dumb grin and smacked myself in the forehead to realize I was becoming one of those guys. I had to go do something manly like lift weights or drink blended nails in my protein shake before my balls fell off.

"Burrie, you got a minute?" It was Hansen, my shift supervisor. He was an okay guy, but he worked for a total dick. Ironically, that dick was a woman but managed to ass-fuck just about everyone working here. Hansen had my pay for the previous week in an envelope and wore his good guy smile. It was people like him that were always taken advantage of. But if high school had taught me anything was that if people like him didn't exist, it would be the next level of people, the me's that would get the shaft. Social Darwinism right?

I leaned back and looked at Hansen, a soup can still in my hands, and waited. And waited. Oh fuck. This couldn't be good.

"You know... Angela put me in a rock and a hard place here..." Hansen started, and he fiddled with everything from his buttons to his tie.