AT THE END OF THE WESTWOOD STREET, THERE IS A SMALL STORE THAT SELLS SOUVENIRS. Westwood street is the end of the town, after a few kilometres of the busy bypass road, starts a new town. I work at the souvenir shop which also sells tons of vintage gifting items and often the manager lets me take some candies for free for Valerie. Our manager used to be my older sister's teacher when she was in middle school. Once my sister came to the shop to pick me up and for a long while she and Mrs Hunderson treated me like a child. But in the end, she gave me extra free candies so it was all good.
But I have never taken anyone else there and saying that I am nervous to bring Kamil there is a little bit of an understatement. I work a day shift alone. The shop is small like a shoebox but it is pretty. Mrs Hunderson lets me play whatever song I want from my phone and someone she tunes in the top to vibe with the Spanish melody of twenty-tens and early twenties. It reminds me of mom and sweet danish butter cookies that I hate with all my blood. It is the butter part that bothers me, but that used to be the only thing I would find in the cabinets when I was a kid. She used to make them, now she just buys them from the fancy stores in the airport. If I close my eyes and concentrate really hard, I could still smell them.
Today, we had lacrosse practice in which I almost broke my knee due to a sloppy freshman player. The game is so soon, and the coach wants us to play with kids for some reason. Coach divides us into two teams with me and Kamil captains, he almost kills me in the field. The keyword is almost because if I let my blood on his hand, the coach will take my position and bless it on his shoulders. I get extra points and invitations to the party because I am the captain of the team, there is no way anyone is taking over me. Elliot ends up on his team which makes it easier for me to play because I know her moves inside out. I have learnt her weaknesses like the back of my hand and there was no way she could score with me playing opposite to her.
Yet she plays as good as Kamil does and the coach promises her to make her second captain instead of Kamil if she works harder. Elliot literally glows with all the dust on her body. I am proud of her, but in the locker room, I jokingly threaten her to not do better than me.
"In your dreams, Avery." She rolled her eyes and buttoned her navy blue shirt, "I will be snatching your position before we finish the junior year."
I return her a toothy grin before she leaves.
The realisation hits me slowly that even though I am in a mixed-gender lacrosse team because my sister did an entire rally for her non-binary friend. We still do not have a gender-neutral changing room because the school says that there are not enough trans students for the committee to "invest" money on. Changing in a girl's bathroom is not even the worst part, the worst part is breathing the same air as Kate Jennings and Libby Archer. Kamil's best friends who would make one of me every chance they get. Almost everyone has left the room because the coach makes me and Kamil store the equipment. In the end, it's either the freshman who desperately tries to get the smell of sweat out of their body or because senior supremacy made them wait in an unfair line.
At this point, I might even run off without my shoes on because Kate and Libby are not going to let me live in peace. They walk around me like fucking eagles and my heartbeat accelerates. Maybe this would not have been the case if they physically bullied me but no, they are clever. Kamil's entire group is smart enough to not touch me because I can run off to the principal at that second. Because I have reported them to the principal in freshman year and they got suspended for one day. A complaint from a Filipino demi boy whose older sister ruined the school's reputation by calling them out on social media will obviously get neglected. I close my eyes and tie my shoelaces. God, fuck I cannot even talk to Elliot about this, because she has never been supportive. She likes Kate and Libby as friends, as they hang out during every party and school event.
"Good game, Avery." Libby chirps, her green eyes glowing in the grunge atmosphere. I want this to be over as soon as it can.
—
"WHERE YOU BUILDING A SHOWER OR TAKING ONE?" This is Kamil's first question as he locks his phone and tilts his head down to see me. I want to punch his face in.
"None of your fucking business, Quershi." And god, I must look pathetic like a dog in the rain because I had to take shower twice and rub my scalp with shampoo till my skin turns red. Valerie told me that it is not good for my hair, but a powder that resembles dandruff on my head as a pathetic example of bullying is not good for me either.
He looks a little taken back, when I throw my bag inside the seat, "Whoa, I thought we were becoming friends."
My head is pounding inside my skull, I can feel rage course through my veins burning those calories I need for survival, "Yeah, it's a two-week thing. After that, we are not friends. You can go back to being a bystander with your pathetic friends."
"For a minute can you stop insulting my friends?" How to make Kamil Qureshi blow like a bomb? Comment on his friends.
"Why the fuck should I? I have got the right to speech." My hands punch the keys of my bike into it, but it won't start.
"I literally never say anything bad about Elliot. Then why do you keep going on about bad-mouthing my friends—"
"Oh? Why do you think that your friends are perfect angels?"
"You are not perfect either, Avery."
"Do you think I don't fucking know that, Qureshi? Can you just shut the fuck up for a minute?" I try to start my bike multiple times, but it won't listen to my commands. Kamil takes the keys from my hand and climbs on it, starting it in one smooth motion.
I let out a frustrated groan, running a hand over my face. He slides off the bike as I make myself comfortable before he joins me. When we are out of the school, he asks me in a soft voice, "What are we doing today?"
"Nothing." I was supposed to speak directly to the third level of fun which was a light prank on him that will make him sweat for his life. But Kate and Libby stomped on my mood, and the more I will be with Kamil, the more I will remember the locker room. I can at least talk about this to my older sister or at very least, record my misery as soon as I get home to lighten my heart.
"Nothing?"
"Can't you hear me or what?"
"No, I can hear you clearly. But why are we not doing anything? That is the deal. I will let you teach me your type of fun and in return, you will do your part of the job. Is it because you are upset?" Surprisingly, his words were nothing but genuine. "Did I do something?"
"No."
"Then? You were fine on the field. And we were fine before that. Even on the field, you smirked at me like four times and did not glare into my soul. You were joking when we were putting the equipment in the storeroom, so something must have happened in the locker room. Because you were late, and your head looked crimson when you came. It also smelled like mint shampoo a little too much, because it bought tears from my eyes. So strong, stronger than our coach's deodorants during homecoming—"
I cracked a laugh, "Shit, that is literally the worst thing my nose has ever tolerated."
"I know. So, are we still doing my end of the deal or—?" I take a deep breath before speeding up.
—
KAMIL AND I ARE HIDING BEHIND A DENSE BUSH. He is freaking out just like I imagined. His legs are shaking lightly, as he sits in a fetal position, with his head resting on his knees so no one can spot us. My damp hairs are tied in a ponytail while his looks like a mess from the ride. His green eyes are searching everywhere. I can hear his heartbeat wanting to leap out of his throat and lay on my hand just like when we were making out. The sky has turned into the colour of Kate and Libby's soul, while the yellow streetlights shine over us like our own little sun.
He whispers and I want to laugh because it reminds me of the party, "Are we just going to sit here and make people believe that we are a thief?"
"No, we are going to steal."
"What?" Kamil shouted, his eyes popping out of the socket. Minutes before, I would have done that myself.
"Chill, it's okay. There is a party at Riley's—"
"Again? Didn't he throw it a few days before?"
"No, that was Sierra's party, you dumb fuck. Riley lives three houses down and I promised to bring a few bottles of alcohol. Because he bought them when I threw one last month. So—"
"So, we are going to steal for a stupid promise?"
I rolled my eyes, "Don't be stupid, we are not stealing. We will leave the exact amount of money for it. Even more, if you want!"
"We can get thrown into jail for this. My parents will kill me."
"So will my sister and god forbid if it includes mom. But we won't get caught, trust me."
"I don't trust you, Avery."
"I know, alright. I don't trust myself either—"
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"No. So, here is what we are going to do. Enter the store like regular people, and stuff the drinks in our bag and walk out."
"They have anti-theft detectors, you dumb fuck."
"Then we will run out, alright? Let's go."
"Have you done this before?"
"No."
"Wow."
Despite Kamil's next protests I walk into the store with my head high and smile at the cashier. She smiles right back, and Kamil jogs to catch up with me. The cold air hits my face, making me softly sigh as I move to the freezer section. Kamil's heartbeat is beating loud enough that it shows on his face, wide and panicked eyes ready to sob the colours out of his body into his handkerchief. He pushes his hands in his pockets and tries his best to push a smile on his face. The more he tries to look cool, the more it keeps getting obvious that he is up to no good.
My eyes wander back and forth to make sure that no one is watching us, "Kamil, look out and tell me if anyone is coming, alright?" I open the freezer and take two bottles of Sprite. He nods, skin moist with fear. I settled the bottles on the bottle while taking the bottle of alcohol and shoving them into my bag. I choose the cheapest brand I can find and place the extra amount of money.
"Avery, someone is coming."
"Alright, alright. I am done." I hand him the bottles of sprite and march towards the counter. Mrs Hunderson is working on the counter today, as it's an off day for me. She pushes her glasses and rolls her eyes like I am the customer who is bothering her with stupid questions. I do that as an employee. She scans the bottles and tells me about the new scheme. I shoot her a smile, "It's okay, I know about it."
She points at Kamil who is shaking beside me, "Is this the boy?"
"Yup. Kamil Qureshi, the one and only."
He bends lower to whisper about his confusion, "You know her?"
"Kind of. Thank you."
Mrs Hunderson glares at Kamil which positively makes him want to sink into the floor, "Get out." And before Avery can say anything, Kamil takes him by the wrist and runs out of the shop as the buzzer goes off violently, alarming the entire store. We run till we reach the other side of the road and duck behind the coffee shop. All these running punches the air out of my lungs, as I drop the bag softly on the ground and try to breathe. I control my instinct to chug down the bottle of alcohol to give my throat some ease.
Kamil takes the support of the wall, "Oh my god, what if she calls the cops? What if we end up in the jail? We have a match soon! I cannot miss it. I will tell the police that you made me do it. You were the reason I had to commit such a crime, I have the perfect record, and I would never do such—"
"Wow, throw me under the bus, Qureshi."
"I will be throwing the bus on you if police bangs on the door of my house."
"Oh, fuck off and Mrs Hunderson will not call the police, trust me."
"Why?"
"Because I will be returning the bottles."
"You what?"
"Please, did you seriously think that we would steal alcohol? And the store has cameras all over, so Mrs Hunderson already saw me scuffing down the alcohol bottles. She would have called the police right at that second if she wanted to. I work at that store. She already knew that we were stealing."
"You told her."
"Yup."
I can see his veins when he muttered, "So, this was preplanned."
"Pretty much, but I was not supposed to tell you about it at all. Except then you made me run so much—"
"I hate you, Avery. Why would you even do this?"
"You called yesterday's fun basic. So, I had to step up my game."
"You are the certified asshole of this town. Avery Ramos, professional bullshitter."
"Thank you for the flattery, it would get you somewhere, mostly my bed if you keep it up."
He gives me a look at the last sentence ignoring my words, "So, is there a party tonight at Riley's or not? Because I have no invitation and usually when he throws a party he—"
"—announces it everywhere, especially in the locker room. I know. The party is tomorrow."
Kamil slid down the wall burying his hands in his dark hair, "Did you do the work?"
I sit in front of him, "Yeah. Mrs Hunderson says that the guy who was murdered was hated by everyone in the town. He was like the typical neighbour who also hated everyone. Except he only used to act that way when he was at home. Mr Hunderson used to work with him and he was pretty sweet with all his co-workers and she says that my dad was his best friend. One day, he was in a foul mood because he had this weird fight with his wife and he kicked his eight-year-old two kids out of his house with his wife, of course. And a few weeks later his body was found in the lake— not where we swam, you can relax— and it had these huge cut marks over his body. His wife was arrested for the murder and now she is serving jail time."
"What about the kids?"
"No clue. The guy's name was Joe Alister."
"Wow."
"And! He used to live in the seventh street, fourth house down that cemetery."
"You did work, I am impressed."
I grin at him, "I know, so am I. Also, he used to work at the town electric department—" My phone buzzes in my pocket, "Excuse me, I have to take this."
He nods and I get up walking a little further than him. Valerie's voice fills my brain, "Where are you?"
"Project, remember?"
"Okay, come home early. I need your help cleaning the house."
"Why? What happened?" Both Valerie and I absolutely hate cleaning the house unless someone is coming home. We are the type of people who throw their clothes in their closets without folding them. I do it because folding the clothes are boring, but Valerie does not have time to fold every single garment.
"Mom is coming home."
—