Page 25 of Riot

“I am never weird in my own head.”

He stared at me.

I stared back.

Then I took my phone out again and opened a new thread. My thumb hovered for a beat because suddenly every sentence felt dumb.

Need to stay late at work. Coworker called off. Might be a while.

I read it twice, added sorry, then deleted that impulse. I hadn’t caused Beth to implode her own schedule.

Finally I hit Send and put the phone face down on the counter before I could rewrite myself into a hostage note.

“There,” I said.

Niles nodded approvingly. “Healthy communication. Disgusting. You’re growing.”

“I’m having a medical event, actually.”

“Same thing.”

Mrs. Hensley cleared her throat from across the room. “Sorry to bother you.”

I looked at the ceiling. “I’m being tested by god.”

Niles folded over laughing while I went to see what she wanted.

“Yes?” I asked.

She held up a single pink sock. “Is this yours?”

I stared at it. The sock was tiny, frilly, and absolutely not mine unless I’d developed a hidden life as a toddler.

“Mrs. Hensley,” I said carefully, “do I look like I own that?”

She considered me. “No.”

“Then probably not.” I smiled at her.

“Oh.” Her cheeks turned rosy. “Sorry to bother you.”

After she shuffled off, Niles put a hand to his heart. “You do look frilly, though. In spirit.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Eat glass.”

“Not with these teeth.” He took a loud sip of his iced coffee and perched on the edge of a folding table. The machine hum filled the pause. Somewhere behind us, quarters clinked into a slot. A dryer door slammed. The oldies radio station switched songs and got worse.

“You want me to fake a seizure so you can close early?” he asked.

“Tempting.” I moved behind the counter and grabbed the spray bottle to wipe down a patch of detergent someone had spilled near the register. “But you’d overact and ruin it.”

“I have range.”

“You have jazz hands.”

He gasped, like he was personally wounded. Then his attention shifted past me toward the front door when the bell jangled.

Chapter Six