Kissing in Cars (Kiss and Make Up #1)(13)

And the ache in my heart that knows he's not the dating kind.

***





Chapter Six





MOLLY


"My dog winks at me sometimes. I always wink back just in case it's some kind of code." - Derek Hanson

You might be thinking that I spend every waking moment with Jenna - or any of my other friends - but in reality that's not the case.

Like today.

It's Saturday, and I'm standing in a stock room at the resort store where I work. The store serves several purposes: in the summer, it's a gift shop that sells collectibles with our towns' logo on it. We also sell apparel, and some water sport accessories (think wake boards and tubes). Then, in the winter during ski season, we sell winter apparel, skis and snowboarding equipment.

And basically I only work here so I can get a free season pass to the ski hill.

That, and, my parents told me one afternoon when I became a senior not to come home without a job, and this was literally the only place I went that was hiring.

The shop is located at the base of our mountain (which isn't actually a mountain but an old garbage landfill they turned into a ski hill) and in the winter, snowboarders and skiers can zip right up to the door if they need anything from the store, like glove warmers for example...or...a funky new hat.

I work with only one other girl from my school named Erin, who is honestly a real pain in the butt. She's useless, but I'm almost positive her parents are friends with our manager because there is no way anyone would purposely hire her.

I'm still assessing her actual skill set.

Or lack of.

"Honestly, you are no help what-so-ever..." I mutter to Erin as I heave a cardboard box into the middle stock room with my foot. Yeah, it would be easier to bend down and push it, but today I'm feeling a little lazy myself. The store is pretty dead: tourist traffic from the areas big lake hasn't turned into vacationers on a ski holiday just yet, so it's mostly just the occasional customer trickling in. Someone who might want to pre-order a ski coat, for example.

I glanced sideways at Erin, who is standing there watching me struggle with the box and offering me no assistance. I roll my eyes. "I can't believe they pay you..."

"Ugh, I'm so boreddd," she groans loudly, dragging out her sentence and leaning backwards. She lets her arms fall limply to her sides. "Ugh, I'm dyinggg. What time is it?"

"We still have almost two hours left," I say, irritated. I take the sharp cutter out of my apron and slice the heavy box open, careful not to cut into the merchandise inside. Unlike that one time I cut into the box without thinking and ended up slicing a brand new ski coat right down the front.

That sucked.

I didn't have to pay for it or anything, but still.

"Who are you going to Fall Formal with this year?" Erin asks.

"I'm not."

"Not going? Or not having a date?" Really Erin? Not having a date? Way to pay attention in English class.

"I don't have a date, so technically I have no plans to go."

"So you don't have a dress?"

"Nope."

"Aww, that's so sad...." After she says this, I turn to face her and put my hand on my hip.

"Do I look sad to you," I ask as Erin stares at me blankly. Okay, not blankly exactly - she's actually looking at me like I'm a pitiful little critter. I let out a long sigh and ask, "Okay, well, who are you going to Fall Formal with?"

"Technically, he hasn't asked me yet, but I totally know he will..."

"Are you going to tell me or not, because we have stuff to do here."

"Derek Hanson. He winked at me yesterday."

"You think Derek Hanson is going to ask you to Fall Formal because he winked at you yesterday?"

"It was a suggestive wink with a lot of meaning. I could tell."

Really, what am I supposed to say to that? Suddenly, Erin claps her hands. "I know! Let's play a game!"

"Please, let's not."

Technically, she's supposed to be unloading a box of child's socks (you know, the kind that look all crazy and mismatched) but instead she's leaning up against a cleaning supply shelf and peeling open a new pack of gum. Noisily, she dislodges a square from its foil and pops it into her mouth. "Wow, this is minty."

"You do know we have to get this done before tomorrow, don't you," I ask, my question lingering in the air as it falls on deaf ears. Erin goes over to stand next to the stockroom door that separates the back storage area from the sales floor. She turns and grins. I can hear the chewing of her gum from the other side of the room - she sounds like my brother when he's gnawing away at a steak dinner.

Erin senses my sigh before I can even audibly get one out. "Calm down, would you? (Wow, am I that predictable?) It's not like you actually need this job if they fire you for not being productive." (Actually, Erin does have a point: that is technically true....) "So, like, here's what we're going to do, because if I don't do something fun I'm going to like, die of boredom."

"You could do some work...." Ignoring me, as usual, Erin pushes on.

"Okay, so like, the next guy that walks in that door, you have to —."

"- No freaking way, Erin. No!"