Kook King

Country Club

My parents are not surprised about my car. My mother says she knew, sooner or later, it would break down. "Aaron, I told you she needs something more stable," she says to my dad in the kitchen the next morning.

My dad rubs his face and puts his glasses on. "I know. Alright." He turns away to pick up the newspaper, which means it's a project for another day.

So, I'm without a car now, but luckily I don't need one to get to work. My mom drops me off at the Country Club. It's this massive colonial-style building with beautifully manicured grass all around and a view of the ocean. Kooks in preppy clothes like to hang out here and golf while they sip on their mai tais. I've been working here for a few years now after JJ said he would put in a good word for me to the boss.

He also works here. We have mostly the same shifts. He should be here today.

In my all-black employee uniform, I hurry up the steps, brush past a well-dressed family mingling by the door, and push inside. Across the room is JJ behind the counter in his uniform. A middle-aged man in a polo shirt talks to him quickly then walks away.

"Hey!" I say, sliding up beside JJ.

He jumps. "Oh, hey. You're here. Good. Today is gonna be fucking insane, we're gonna need all the help we can get."

My brow furrows. I didn't hear anything about today being busy. "Why?"

"I don't know, some auction thing," he grumbles.

I roll my eyes. "They'll drop thousands of dollars on a brand new boat, but given any opportunity to spend their money on something that actually counts, they turn their noses up." Typical.

"I know," JJ agrees.

"Is Kiara gonna be here for it?" I ask him. Kiara Cerrera and I are friends, but not friends that hang out a ton the way I do with Ava, Deirdre, and JJ. She has caramel-colored skin and wild, curly, dark hair that she normally tosses up in a messy bun. Unlike the rest of us, Kiara was born a kook, which you would never guess about her from the way she dresses and who she hangs out with. Her mother married a pogue, which she always hangs over Kiara's head, as if it's her destiny, too. Her mom doesn't like that Kiara hangs out with us so much or knows The Cut better than the menu at the Country Club. Kiara doesn't care, though. She's fierce and always puts her friends first. That's what I like about her.

"I don't know." JJ nudges me. "Oh, but hey. I invited her to come over tonight to drink beer and hang in my hot tub. You should come, too."

It would be a really great time. I would love to spend a night drinking and having fun with just my friends. "Yeah, okay."

JJ smiles. "Cool."

JJ and I get to work waiting on all of the rich kooks. The sun beats down hard on those who play golf out in the grass, and I'm thankful I get to at least stay inside where there is air conditioning and fans. Sometimes, when it isn't too busy, which is usually on weekday afternoons, I like to stand under the fan and stare out at the water beyond the perfectly manicured grass. Out in the distance, I can hear golf clubs thwack against golf balls and kooks cheering. It's frustrating knowing that while they're out playing rounds and rounds of golf, pogues like me and JJ sweat in our uniforms and serve them their expensive drinks all day. Sometimes, the time spent here goes by so quickly, but today I have a feeling it will drag, even if JJ is here to keep me sane.

An hour goes by. Some customers have been perfectly pleasant while others have really showed their real kook colors. I'm exhausted having to deal with grumpy, old kooks talking to me like I should already know what they're ordering. Or prissy young kooks that look at me like I'm a disgrace.