Night Shift

Chapter 24

Five years ago

"Johnathon, I really don't care. You have a responsibility, and you have chosen to completely ignore it."

"No, I know, I'm really sorry. I promise, I will be there in about five minutes."

His voice showed that he was the furthest thing from sorry. I could hear the music in the background, the snickers from his friends. He must have been drinking or something.

"Get here as soon as you can," I grumbled.

"Yeah OK. See you soon." Just when I thought he had hung up, I caught a quick, "Assh—" before the phone call disconnected. Was that on purpose? Do these people intentionally try to get themselves fired? Why bother applying for the job at all?

I looked over at Thalia, who was standing awkwardly by the cigarette cabinet, arms crossed in front of her and her face expressing disgust.

"I'm sorry this has happened again," I said. "Thank you for calling me, I'll be sure to pay you for an extra hour."

Despite the fact that you have done absolutely fuck all.

Thalia nodded and went back into the kitchen, for what reason I'm not too sure. The hot box was replenished, and there were no orders to fill. She should be replenishing the drinks fridge, or mop up around the shop. Dust had settled and developed into a thick layer on top of the hot box. It would be a job for Johnathon to also not do when he comes for his shift.

"Have you counted your money, yet?" I called out.

"No," was all Thalia said.

"What the hell have you been doing this entire time?" I muttered under my breath. I pulled out the till and started to count the money.

The Myriad made a grand total of fifty-five bucks in the eight hours that Thalia had been behind the counter. I knew some of her friends would come around to hang out, which was completely fine, because it gets really boring and lonely. What bothered me was the fact that she constantly gave them free shit. Mates rates, as they liked to call it. I should call her out on it, yet I never did.

After ten minutes, Johnathon still hadn't shown up. I told Thalia to go home and I will wait around until Johnathon came around. There was no thank-you, or a good-bye or anything. Clearly, she was too cool for that kind of stuff.

Half an hour after the phone call, Johnathon finally arrived.

"Yo," was all he said. He didn't fucking care.

"Do you want to keep the job?" I asked in a heated tone. I was really pissed off with him.

Johnathon gave a weak chuckle – that should lighten him up he probably thought. "I'm sorry, things got complicated."

"Yeah, whatever," I grumbled. "If this keeps up I will terminate your employment."

I only started my role as manager a few months back. To put it more bluntly: it was a few months back when Susan hung herself and gave me the store. I haven't had the job for a year, I'm fresh out of high school, and I'm already at the top. That should be considered an achievement of some sort, shouldn't it?

I could never make myself sound serious or intimidating. No one ever listened to me, I could never be authoritative, even when I'm in the position to be so.

Johnathon didn't have anything to add to what I had to say. He started to make his way behind the counter, trying to avoid eye contact with me.

"And be sure to hang up the phone before you decide to call your boss awful names," I said.