The Boiling Point | ✔️

10 | aftertaste

[chapter trigger warning: violence/abuse]

ASHTON

I'm an idiot. A full-blown, colossal idiot. In what world could I possibly do what I did and think I'd come out of it without repercussions?

I'd convinced myself it was all for the sake of the contest. That misleading Summer was the only way to throw her off her game, and that kissing her would fulfill the temptations I have when I see her every day. Getting her out of my system and ending these conflicting thoughts for good.

But really, I just wanted an excuse to kiss her. And now I'm screwed because my hormone-driven decision making has only intensified those temptations. It's like I injected her straight into my bloodstream and she's more in my system than ever.

Idiot.

I shovel popcorn into a bucket and go back to the teenage girl chewing on her straw behind the counter. This second part-time job at the movie theater has been my longest gig, aside from working for my dad.

There aren't many options in this town, and movies were my regular escape as a kid. I even had crazy dreams of getting behind the camera before my culinary path was planned, but my interest in movies is only part of the reason why I chose to work here.

It's lucrative. Especially on weekend shifts. Between the giggly girls and the frisky cougars, these generous tips are the foundation of my savings. I'd be dead in the water without this job.

So now, when my mind is preoccupied in Summerland, it's imperative for me to pack it in and lay on the charm. Good thing temporarily shoving away my problems is one of my specialties.

The starry-eyed girl smiles up at me, her friends ogling behind her. "This is totally random, but do you maybe wanna, like, hangout sometime?"

Nope.

I cock my head. "Only if you ditch your friends so I can have you all to myself."

She erupts in nervous giggles, her face flooding beet red as she searches for her purse. A slip of pre-written paper accompanies the twenty she slips into the jar. I fish it out when she leaves, glancing at the name and number before throwing it in the trash. Sorry, Shelley.

Janice shakes her head at me while she fills a slushie. Not technically my boss, but she runs the concession stand. Even though tipping is optional, my jar is the only one that ever gets filled.

In order to prevent Janice from telling our boss about my 'unprofessional behavior', we struck up a deal a while ago. I give her ten percent of my tips and she turns a blind eye. A small price to pay. Doesn't stop her from throwing disapproving looks from the next counter over, though.

When the worst of the snack rush is over and the lobby is emptying out, I recognize two familiar faces coming my way. Lola and Fawn, with a little girl who looks like Lola's clone jumping along the tiles like she's avoiding lava between them.

"Oh, hey Ashton," Lola says. "Congratulations on the win today."

"You gonna abuse those bragging rights?" Fawn asks, fixing her parted bangs.

"You know it."

As I'm getting their food, I slip in glances to the door, thinking Summer might be with them. She usually is. But she's not among the stragglers coming in. I have to wonder if she told Lola and Fawn about what happened. They're not acting like they know, but they could be playing it cool.

Lola edges the little girl forward. "Tell him what you want, Ava."

She can't be much older than seven. With big doe eyes and chubby cheeks, she's one adorable kid. She smiles shyly before burying her face in Lola's coat. Lola lightly rolls her eyes, letting Ava cling to her waist while she orders for her.