Page 14 of You Started It

Axel:Meaning you’ll have to work a little harder to earn that bit of Axel trivia.

I let out a heavy exhale. Before I can think of a response, another message from Axel pops up.

Axel:When’s your shift over?

Me:Four.

Axel:I’ll see you then!

But I didn’t even agree…This guy is full of something. The polar opposite of Ben. How can I expect anything to go smoothly with such a loose cannon? Is it too soon to regret this decision? It feels too late to back out of it. Just as I’m about to put my phone down, a text comes in from Ben.

Ben:Wasn’t expecting you to move on so quickly.

Ooh. My plan seems to be working already. I sit up and grin as I type my reply.

Me:Like you did?

Ben:You seem to have landed on your feet. Kind of fast if you ask me.

Me:I didn’t ask you. But that’s what I do, Ben. One man leaves and there’s another, around the corner.

Ben:That’s not how you operate.

I’m so tempted to fire off a round of questions, starting with when he and Olivia became more than just co-workers, but resist the urge.

Me:Well, like you said, senior year and all. Can’t expect me to spend it moping around in my room. I have places to see. People to get to know.

Ben:I guess I’m just surprised not only by the speed at which you moved on but with who you chose to move on with.

Me:What’s wrong with Axel?

Ben:He isn’t exactly your type.

Me:Clearly, my type hasn’t been working for me.

Ben:That’s kind of hurtful. We spent three years together.

Me:What’s your point, Ben?

Ben:No point. I’m happy for you.

Me:I’m happy for me too. Night!

Always leave them wanting more.

My uncle’s shawarma restaurant closes early on Sundays, which means around three all the neighborhood moms come in to pick up their dinner order and repeatedly ask Eli for proper reheating instructions, giggling and fawning over how cute he is. Calling Shawarma Sitty a restaurant is kind of a stretch. It’s more like a diner, but not even really that. The food is way better than regular fast food, but there’s only eight tables and we don’t wait on patrons.

Amo Eli has been looking to hire a student for months but he can’t find anyone who will stay on longer than a few weeks. I agreed to help fill in the gaps this summer, seeing as I didn’t have anything better to do with Ben gone. Mom won’t let me accept payment for my labor since we’ve already taken so much from my uncle, but Eli pays me “under the table.” About a hundred bucks a week, which is probably less than I would have earned as an official employee. But this way there’s no taxes and no guilt trips from Mom. I also get paid in free shawarma sandwiches and indigestion.

As I’m sweeping the floors, Axel appears behind the locked glass door with a big, dopey smile on his face. He’s boyishly cute, I’ll give him that. Which is fine, but I’m about to be a twelfth grader, and Ben could easily pass for twenty-one. Ben passed boyish about halfway through tenth grade.

Axel pretends to knock on the door, then twists his foot around his other and ends up doing a spin while waddling like a penguin. What’s up with this guy?

I unlock the door and he basically glides in.

“Are you always this obnoxious?” I ask.

He swipes the broom from me and takes over sweeping, swaying his hips with it.

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