Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(34)

It’s good so far. Really stressful, don’t get me wrong, but it’s actually kind of nice. It’s like we’ve all been thrown into the deep end together. Oh, I even made something. Here, look!

A key chain? Oh, and it holds your ChapStick. Nice. You sewed that?

I did! Well, actually, this one was Philip’s. He showed me how to sew and I’m helping him with some design stuff—trying to teach him how to draw with a digital illustration pen, stuff like that. So he suggested we trade. But mine looks just like this.

I can’t believe you’re already making stuff. That’s great you’re making friends too. So, um, is he the one you’ve been hanging out with this week?

GABRIEL + SAL

Sal, we’ve really got to join the other FaceTime. Reese keeps sending me requests. You know how he is when we’re late to stuff.

This week has fully killed me, Gabe. I think I worked thirty-five hours this week? It’s so chaotic, but I don’t want to complain to the others.

You just want to complain to me?

Actually, yeah.

That’s strangely sweet. But that’s a lot of hours. I thought you were only supposed to do, like, twenty hours.

No one knows what’s going on there. It’s madness. I haven’t felt this stressed in a long time. It’s so cool, though, being in the Capitol each day. I think I’m pissing off the other interns, but I’ve gotten to do a lot of cool things already. I’m so tired.

You can’t kill yourself for this, babe. You have plenty of time to work full-time after this. You need to, I don’t know, set some boundaries or something. Before it gets out of control.

I can’t do that. I need this to go well.

God, I just got another request. Can we talk to the group?

Fine, let’s switch over.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

HEATH

Diana and I get to Aunt Jeanie’s arcade for my training around noon, and I’m struck by how silent this part of the boardwalk is. Yes, it’s a random Monday in the middle of summer, and most of the more rambunctious Daytona Beach partiers are probably sleeping off their hangovers right about now, but it still strikes me as odd.

My first meeting with Jeanie was short but sweet. My second was nearly nonexistent. Diana and Jeanie are ships passing in the night, their only true bonding times seeming to be during the shifts they work together. This family dynamic is light-years apart from the ones I know, but it’s still something special.

And I want to be a part of it.

“Your first shift is Friday, so we’ve got plenty of time to get you up to speed,” Diana says as she ducks under the half-open gate that bars entrance from the closed arcade. “You nervous?”

“Should I be?” I ask as I follow her into the dark space. “I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it. I’ve had a few odd jobs—I know how to deal with people.”

“Drunk people?”

I laugh. “Back when Mom and Dad went to church, I’d have to babysit all the toddlers during service. Toddlers are essentially tiny drunk humans, right?”

She snorts. “Normal drunk and Daytona drunk are very different, you’ll see.”

My eyes slowly adjust to the light, or lack thereof, in the space. A large bar stands right in front of me. Behind it lies a collection of chips and a deep-fat fryer. Hundreds of giant plastic cups are stacked behind the bar, and it really hits me just how much beer this place must go through every day.

“Jeanie’s probably in the back doing inventory. The kegs come in around this time, so I’ll give you a quick tour.”

She leads me around the space, pointing out some of the most popular attractions.

“Two air hockey tables, which people will wait hours to play. These have been doused in so much beer that it’s a miracle they still work. They get stickier and stickier as the night progresses, though, so we have to clean them midshift sometimes.”

“Next, we have the shooting games—zombie-shooting ones, deer-hunting ones, alien-blasting ones. All popular with a certain … demographic. They usually wear red hats, that’s all I’m saying about that. Then we have a row of Skee-Ball in the back, and those basketball-hoop games bring in a ton of money. It’s a dollar fifty per round, and you get a lot of bros lining up to prove their sports superiority all night.”

I laugh because I definitely know the type. A few guys on my baseball team would have a blast here, me included. I try to think where my friends would gravitate to: Reese would master the art of Skee-Ball, while Gabe and Sal would spend all day duking it out at the air hockey table.

“Heath!” Aunt Jeanie calls from the back and runs over to wrap me up in a hug. She does the same for Diana. “I didn’t hear y’all come in. I wanted to give you the grand tour.”

She leads us back up front to the cash register and pulls out a stack of coins.

“We don’t open until seven on Mondays, so we have some time to kill. Skee-Ball? I’ll make us some corn dogs.”

I blush. “Oh, I couldn’t take that.”

“Most of the money comes back to me anyway, so believe me, it’s my treat.”

“Actually,” Diana says, “Jeanie is the Skee-Ball master. Why don’t I fry up the corn dogs, and Heath, you can learn from the master.”