Page 27 of The End of Summer

“Arrow. She’s my boss. The one who was screaming at you in the parking lot?”

“Ahh. I see.”

“But is that therealelephant in the room, though?”

“What? You working at a strip club?”

“It’snota strip club. And even if it was,minewas not the junkbucket on full display tonight,” she says.

“No? You just walk around in your underthings on the street, then?”

“Not on the street. Only in the studio,” she responds. “But at least my dumptruck was fully covered. That’s more than I can say for you, my friend. You and the ol’ dick in the box really caught me by surprise.”

At this, I can’t help but laugh. “Um, you and me both. I feel like you were suffering an identity crisis. Is she Ariel? Is she a gecko? You were like a walking riddle tonight – what’s green, shiny, and wobbles when it walks?”

“Excuse me!” Gretchen retorts. “I was trying out new shoes! You of all people should know how hard it is for me to walk in heels. And the snake mask was courtesy of thebride, thank you very much.”

“It seems like every time I see you, you’re about to fall down.”

“Not right now,” she points out.

“No, I guessthat’s true.”

She folds her arms across her chest and sizes me up.

“What?”

“It’s just, the last time I was standing here, you were kind of a dick. And this time is proving to be more of the same.”

“No, I wasn’t. You were the one who stormed in here, telling me when and where I could use my power tools.Iwas actually quite delightful.”

“This is a sad turn of events. First, he goes off to become a stripper. Then, he develops early onset dementia.”

“I think I know why you’re so salty,” I reply.

“I’mnotsalty.”

“You like me.”

“Gross.”

“Fine. Youwantto like me. You thought I was the hottest Zorro you ever saw.”

“Correction: you are theonlyZorro I’ve ever seen.”

“And now that we work in the same industry, you want to be friends with me.”

“I would never be friends with you, Brady. You’re the reason I’m in this industry in the first place!” She gives me a tart look.

“How’s that, exactly?”

Gretchen huffs. “Please. Let’s not rehash it.” She puts up a hand and takes a step towards the door.

“Wait! Don’t go,” I say.

“Why not?” she snaps, flipping that fiery hair over her shoulder and looking at me with a sneer.

“I just think we’ve got more to discuss, that’s all. And I genuinely don’t understand why you say you would neverbe friends with me.”

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