Lying Out Loud(5)

Not that it mattered much now. His senior year, Wesley had actually started dating someone seriously. Her name was Bianca, and now they were both off at college in New York City, still together.

It was several minutes later when we pulled into the movie theater’s parking lot. I worked at a tiny movie theater in Oak Hill, the next town over from Hamilton, where all the big box stores, restaurants, and alcohol could be found. Hamilton was a dry, one-stoplight town with a minuscule population. Oak Hill was the closest thing to a “city” we had until you reached Chicago, which was a couple of hours away.

The oh-so-cleverly named Cindependent Theater only showed foreign and indie flicks. And I had the honor of handing our pretentious customers their extra-buttery, fat-loaded popcorn. Not exactly my dream job, but hey, it paid.

“Thanks,” I told Amy. “I’ll get a ride back to your place.”

“With who? None of your coworkers live in Hamilton.”

“I can hitchhike. There are some really cute truck drivers who come through here.”

Amy swatted my arm, and I laughed.

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Or I could just pick you up and drive you back to my place.”

“But your parents —”

“It’s Friday night. It’s normal for you to stay over. They won’t mind, and they won’t even think to check in with your mom. And tomorrow my mom can go jump your car.” She smiled. “It doesn’t always have to be complicated, you know?”

I nodded. “Fine.” I leaned across the seat and hugged her. “You’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

If anyone had said that to me, I would have made a funny quip or replied with something snarky — purely out of habit. But not Amy. She just hugged me back and said, “I don’t know what I’d do without you either.”

I climbed out of the Lexus and hurried through the nearly empty parking lot, toward the theater.

“You’re late!” a voice yelled the second I walked through the door.

“Sorry, Glenda.”

“Not gonna cut it this time, Sonny.”

My boss, a tall, broad-shouldered woman with a chin-length black bob and cat-eye glasses, stepped out from behind the popcorn machine. Judging by the scowl on her face and the veins bulging in her thin neck, I had a theory — an inkling, really — that she might be pissed.

“We just started screening that new sea turtle documentary and you missed the rush. You left us short staffed.”

I glanced out the window. There were, at max, six cars in the parking lot. “Rush? Really?”

“It’s Friday.”

“It’s three-thirty.”

“No. Three-thirty is when you’re supposed to be here. It’s almost four.”

“Glenda —”

“I’m sick of this, Sonny. This happens all the time. I told you last time you were late that if it happened again, you’d be fired.”


She had, that was true. But I’d kind of figured she was blowing smoke. She’d threatened to fire Grady, one of my coworkers, a thousand times, but he was still here. I’d honestly thought it was impossible to get fired from Cindependent.

“On top of that, you come in here looking like crap. Look at you, Sonny. You’re soaking wet. No one wants you handling their food like that.”

“I’m sorry, Glenda. My car broke down and my phone isn’t working. I was trying to get help, but then it started raining —”

“Stop. Your lies don’t even sound believable anymore.”

“But I’m not lying!” Not this time, anyway.

“Why should I believe you?” Glenda asked.

I couldn’t think of an answer. In the year I’d been working at Cindependent, I’d lied to her countless times. Yes, I did clean the gum off the bottom of the seats in theater two…. No, I didn’t spit in that *’s soda…. I’m late because my grandfather had a heart attack — don’t worry, he’s fine now! She really had no reason to believe a word I said.

“I’m done, Sonny,” she said. “You’re fired.”

“But I …” And again, I actually told the truth. “I really need the money. Right now more than ever.”

Her face softened, but only a little. “Then maybe you’ll be more responsible at your next job.” And with that, she turned and headed to her office.

I had to borrow Grady’s phone to call Amy. It had a thin coat of butter on the keypad, and I kept it about an inch from my face to avoid cross contamination. Amy hadn’t even gotten to Hamilton yet, so she just turned around and headed back to the theater to pick me up.

I waited outside, in the rain. I knew if I waited inside, I’d just end up punching the popcorn machine. Not because I’d gotten fired. Who needed some shitty job at a movie theater? I mean, I did, but that was beside the point. No, it wasn’t getting fired — it was everything. Everything with my mom and my phone and my car and my awful day and my awful life.

Yes, I was a whining, teenage cliché. And, according to Amy, I had a flair for the dramatic, so there was a slight chance that, had I stayed in the theater, I may have made matters worse by pouring a Cherry Slushie on Glenda’s head. It was, after all, something I’d fantasized about doing since I’d been hired.