Supermarket(31)

“Why do you even care about that dude, man? You know he wants to fuck your little girlfriend!”

I turned quickly to him. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Well, why do you think he hates you so much? Always giving you mean looks, dude? He’s had a crush on Mia forever, man.”

I just stared at him.

“Look, man,” I finally said. “Regardless of any of that, the lighter isn’t yours.”

“All right, all right, I’ll put it back in his locker,” Frank said.

I smiled as Frank took a drag. He exhaled a full plume, clouding the length of his body.

“Check it,” he said, taking his hand out of his pocket.

“Jesus, Frank,” I said.

A stack of hundreds sat in his hand.

“5K right here. I’ve been taking bills from Muldoon’s since day one and they ain’t said shit. They’re obviously not feeling the hit, or else I’d be hearing about it. And they pay us garbage. We need it more than they do. I’m barely making rent over here,” he said.

He pointed to two figures on the ground below. They were leaving the store and approaching an armored truck. It was Vernon and Gary with their deposit bags.

“You know I could rob this place blind?” he said, eyes squinting to evade the sun. “I’ve been here long enough.”

“Bro, you’ve been robbing this place blind,” I said.

“Like, I’m not talking petty cash from the register. I’m talking the whole shebang,” he said. “I know how to get in that safe and I know how to erase the security footage so they would never know. I wouldn’t have to worry about fingerprints either. I don’t have any. I’d take the money and dip to Canada. Shit’s easy living up there and they’d never find me.”

I pulled out a toothpick from the box in my pocket and placed it in the left corner of my mouth.

“What do you mean, you don’t have any fingerprints?” I asked.

Frank smiled.

“Our fingerprints are all over the store. They wouldn’t be able to prove it was us even if they suspected it. Trying to use that to convict us would be pointless in a place like this.”

“What do you mean us?” I said, adjusting the toothpick with my tongue. “This isn’t Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.”

“I’m speaking figuratively, obviously. Not us, dude,” he said, motioning his hands between him and me. “It only needs to be one person.”

And like a ton of bricks, it hit me! That eureka moment I had been waiting for! The climactic moment in Muldoon’s . . . would be a store robbery. And Frank would be the culprit! It was perfect. Frank actually was a petty thief. He talked big shit about robbing the store blind—but I didn’t actually believe he would do it. That’s twenty years in prison. But my fictionalized Frank . . . the exaggerated Frank . . . he actually would. What a brilliant way to peak my novel.

Frank flicked his cigarette off the roof.

“Let’s head in, I’m getting cold,” he said.

We climbed down the fire escape, onto the loading dock, and past Kurtis, who was also outside smoking, looking as disenfranchised as ever. He just wouldn’t quit. Maybe Mia really was the reason Kurtis seemed pissed off all the time. Maybe he was only angry around me because he could sense our chemistry. But the last thing I was worried about was Monster Energy Kurtis stealing my girl. Dude probably went to pickup artist classes. If we were taking bets on who would shoot up Muldoon’s, my money was on Kurtis.

That AriZona went right through me and I needed to piss like a racehorse. I told Frank to wait outside the bathroom. After the much-needed release, I walked to the sink to wash my hands. I stared into the mirror. Tortured artist? I wasn’t seeing it . . . I did have some dark circles under my eyes, though. Maybe I needed some sleep. I splashed my face with water and smiled into the mirror. “You’re going to finish your book! You’re going to finish your book! It’s time!” I kept saying it, almost as if I couldn’t believe it myself. Couldn’t believe the content I had ready to put on paper.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I immediately noticed Frank had left. I headed off to look for him just as Kurtis walked back in from smoking.

“Hey, have you seen Frank?” I asked him.

“No, fuck off,” he said seriously.

Shrugging him off, I continued on my way past the aisles near the back of the store. I was excited to get off at six o’clock, which was not far away. I looked down the aisles for Frank only to spot Rachel’s friend Becca. I gave a wave. She returned the gesture, smiling sweetly, and continued on her way. As I arrived at the end of the aisle, I realized I was in the bakery. I looked behind the counter and saw Mia. She was so beautiful in her white apron, her hair tied up in a ponytail.

“Oh, hey, Flynn!” she said with a beaming smile. “Couldn’t wait until later to see me, huh?”

“Can’t wait!” I said. “Hey, have you seen Frank around here by chance?”

“Nope, haven’t seen him. When are the three of us gonna hang out, by the way? I spend all my time in the bakery, so I don’t get to know anyone else who works here. It would be nice to meet your friend you always talk about.”

The truth was I hadn’t formally introduced Mia to Frank because he had no manners. It was guaranteed he would offend, outrage, or disgust her. I also couldn’t admit to her that I was writing a book, not just yet. And the book was the only reason I was continually and willingly subjecting myself to Frank’s presence. It was all to get this novel finished. I needed this bullshit artist to keep the inspiration going for my main character. But even deeper still, there was the fact that I was actually growing to enjoy Frank’s energy, his outlook. It was infectious. It made you not give two fucks what others around you thought. I was so wrapped up in my own head and my own creative pursuits that his whole vibe was liberating. To live free and think what you want, say what you want!