The Perfect Balance

Chapter Four

Saturday is Diego's first day of work. His shift starts at 2:30 so he decides to spend the half hour before he has to clock in, at my workplace doing nothing in particular. I'm working the register and he's standing around, loitering if you want to be technical. "Why don't you buy a book or something?" I ask.

He scoffs as he looks at me. "Do I look like I read?" he asks.

"You look like you should," I mumble, earning an eye roll from him. "And get off the counter." He stands up before resting against it.

"Guess what I'd rather be doing right now?" he prompts me as he looks around the store.

"What?" I reply, unsure of what he's going to say.

"Anything..." he answers. "Literally anything."

"I can think of a few things you wouldn't want to be doing..." I mutter and he turns to look at me, narrowing his eyes.

"You're a little pervert, you know that?" he asks and I open my mouth in a small gape.

"I wasn't even talking about that," I respond. "I was thinking that you wouldn't want to be dangling from a branch off of a two thousand foot cliff."

"Actually, I'd rather do that than wait tables and serve coffee," he tells me with slightly narrowed eyes as he stares off into the distance.

"I thought you liked coffee," I rejoin and he nods.

"Drinking it, yes. Making it, sure. Serving it, no," he retorts as he gazes down at his hands.

"Well, it's money in your pocket," I say with a shrug.

"I work five days a week. Might as well quit school and work there full time," he murmurs.

"Like I said, money in your pocket," I reply.

"I even work on the weekends," he continues to complain.

"Yeah, me too," I return.

"At least you don't have to do much here," he grumbles. "I have to clean." He allows a series of swear words to flow from his mouth.

"How do you know?" I ask and he takes his phone from his pocket. At first, I think he's ignoring me until he slides it across the counter. I lift it and read the message from Sue. I let out a laugh when I see the job description. Cleaning...serving...preparing drinks... "Sounds like a fun time."

"No! It doesn't," he responds. "It sounds like hell."

"It's your first day. She's probably going to go easy on you. She most likely said all this to scare you," I reply, handing his phone back to him. He locks it and slides it back in his pocket.

"Hopefully. The last thing I need is a hard job," he complains.

"I can't help but agree with you," I acknowledge. "You should be focusing on your studies."

"I've been handing in most of my homework," he informs me. "I've been doing my classwork. I was only late three times this week. My studies are going fine. Get off my back, will you?"

"Do all of your homework and I'll get off your back," I snap. "What are your grades looking like?"

"The best they've been since my freshman year, I'll tell you that much," he answers.

"Can I see them?" I ask. When I see his reluctance, I poke out my lower lip and widen my eyes. He gives me a long look before sighing loudly. I grin as he reaches for his pocket again.

"They're nothing compared to yours, I'm sure," he warns me as he unlocks his device and slides it over the counter.

I scan his grades and am genuinely surprised. I expect a few D's and maybe an F or two but I'm pleasantly shocked to find that he's passing his study hall, which leads me to believe that attendance isn't counted. He has a B+ in American Lit, which amazes me more because she's a hard grader; a C- in Music Theory; a B in Global Studies; a C+ in Chemistry; C in Pre-Calculus, and a B in Computer Science. "These actually aren't that bad," I tell him, feeling pride well up in my chest.