Page 126 of Jake Forever
"No." I gave him the look of death. "Because some idiotcrushedmy car. Remember?"
"Hey, you got paid. What are you griping about?"
How stupid was he, anyway? He'd crushed it for fun. He'd thrown a party and everything. If that wasn't gripe-worthy, I didn't know what was.
And then, there was the other thing. "Yeah, I got paid," I said. "So what? You weren't even the one who paid me."
"Sure I was," he insisted.
"Yeah, right." Didn't he remember? "Just yesterday, you told me youdidn'tpay for it."
"Yeah, well I did some digging. Turns out, I did." Looking distinctly annoyed at the discovery, Rango continued. "The asshole paid Jake, and deducted it frommyallowance. You happy now?"
Oddly enough, I was – especially because Rango looked sounhappy about it.
Did that make me a bad person?
Did I care?
Apparently not. Because I was actually smiling. "Poor baby."
"No kidding," Rango said. "Hey, uh, that reminds me. I've gotta ask you something."
"What?"
"So, uh, can I borrow some money?"
I almost laughed in his face. "You can't be serious. And if you are, the answer is no."
He gave me a pleading look. "But I really need it," he whined. "I've got expenses, you know?"
As someone who had never gotten an allowance, not even as a kid, I was no stranger to expenses – or how they were generally paid.
Again, I smiled. "Yeah? Well, the restaurant's hiring."
Rango drew back like I'd just spit in his face. "What? You want me to work as a—" He swallowed. "—waiter?"
I shook my head, enjoying this way more than I should've. "Not as a waiter. That requires experience." I brightened. "But you could always work as a busboy."
He looked utterly horrified. "A busboy?"
"Or a dishwasher," I helpfully added.
I knew Rango. There was no way on Earth he'd be caught dead in a service job. I started to wonder about all those businesses that he supposedly owned. Maybe he didn't own them after all. Maybe he'd been merely running them for his stepdad.
If that was the case, Rango was in some serious trouble. But that wasn't my problem, and the way I saw it, some humility would do him a load of good.
I was still mulling this, when I heard a cell phone ring somewhere outside my car.
With a muttered curse, Rango reached down and retrieved a black satchel from somewhere near his feet. As I watched, he rummaged through the bag and pulled out a small silver cell phone. He studied the display and frowned.
A moment later, he looked to me and demanded, "Alright, how'd you do that?"
"How'd I do what?"
Abruptly, he leaned forward and stuck his whole head inside my car.
Caught off guard, I leaned back to avoid contact. "What the hell are you doing?"
His head swiveled from side to side. "Alright, where is it?"
"Where's what?"
He pulled back and practically spat the words, "Your fucking cell phone."
