We Told Six Lies(22)

Today, you’d picked me up in your mom’s car. You let me drive, and I wanted to thank you for that. Wanted to, but didn’t.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I said.

“I’ll be here.”

You leaned over and kissed me. I had to pull away quickly so I didn’t march into the guy’s office with a hard-on.

The gym was nicer than the pictures I’d seen online, with sparkling locker rooms, an indoor pool, a sauna, basketball courts, racquetball courts, a smoothie bar, and rows upon rows of glittering barbells.

If the gym at my high school was kindergarten, then this was college. And I wanted in so badly my bones ached.

“Cobain?” someone said.

I glanced at the man behind the counter, and he held out his hand. “Chad.”

“Yeah, I’m, uh…”

“Here for an interview, right. Duane will watch the counter while we go in the back.”

“The back” was a white room with a cluttered desk—brochures, photocopies of membership plans, scattered pens, and a laptop. Like a doctor’s office, it was impersonal, the overhead lights too bright. But that didn’t stop Chad from situating himself on the other side of the desk like he was sitting on a throne instead of a creaking chair.

“So, tell me why I should hire you,” he said.

And I froze. I fucking froze.

Chad waited a few seconds, then said, “I’m just kidding, man. Relax. Though, I would have been impressed if you’d at least tried to answer the question. Would this be your first job?”

“Yes. Yes, sir.”

“So, no resume.”

“Uh, no. Sorry.” I shift in my chair, my palms sweating.

“Your application says you can work nights and weekends.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll have to sell memberships. That’s your main job here. Think you can do that?”

“I think so.”

Chad leans forward. “You think so, or you know so?”

“I know so.”

“You old enough to work?”

“I’m eighteen.”

“Good.”

Chad looked to be only a few years older than me, but he was enjoying flaunting his seniority. I tried to think how Molly would handle this. She’d look for what this guy was most proud of, or most afraid of, and zone in on that.

Chad was about to open his mouth to fire another question at me, but I cut him off.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Shoot.”

“How, uh… How does someone like me get to your level? I mean, if I worked really hard here, is there a chance I could move up one day?”

“You looking for a long-term opportunity?”

“I just want to be in a respectable position one day. I know it’d probably take a really long time to get to where you are, but even if I could get close, you know?” I paused for authenticity, and also because I was sweating. I didn’t know. “Is that stupid, what I asked?”

Chad smiled. “I like you. You’re ambitious, but not annoyingly so. Let’s see what you can do on the floor.”

He rounded the desk, opened the door, and waved toward the counter. “I’ll have you watch Duane talk to a new member. We have someone coming in now. I always schedule interviews and new membership sign-ups together.”

“That’s smart,” I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

Chad gave an arrogant shrug.

I watched Duane give his pitch to another dude. He talked about the plans, what they included, and how much sign-up fees were. He knew so much and rattled it off like it was nothing. I thought he had probably memorized a script, and I knew I could never do the same. I could hardly remember to bring my books home to do homework. And how, exactly, was I planning on going from someone who rarely spoke to anyone, to someone who made small talk with every person who walked through the door?

It made me sick to think about it.

The guy Duane was talking to chose a month-to-month plan, handed over his card, signed a digital form, and said he’d be back tomorrow.

“All right,” Chad said. “So, we’ll probably have you come in again to try signing up members. If that goes well—”

The door chimed, and you strolled in.

“Hi,” Chad said, plastering on a false smile.

“You have your key card?” Duane asked when you didn’t move.

“No, I…uh,” you faltered.

I’d never seen you stumble before. It was fucking adorable. Your eyes connected with mine, and I could tell you regretted coming in. You probably thought I needed saving. You were like that, Molly. You used your knowledge of people to get what you wanted, but you also used it to save people.

Remember when you helped Rhana get out of detention?

Remember when you talked down the mechanic working on Nixon’s car?

Remember when you stopped to talk to that homeless dude? You asked him two questions and said something that made him smile in a way I bet he hadn’t in a long time. Then you gave him the cash you had in your purse. Cash you could have spent on wristbands at the fair, but you didn’t want to embarrass me by paying for them yourself.

You were an enigma.

“I’m just here to pick up my friend,” you finally managed.