Page 18 of Betting on You

“You’re a Protostar?”

I rolled my lips inward, wanting to laugh at Charlie’s face; hegrimaced like Cleveland had called him something vile. Charlie said, “Well, those are the words that they told me to say. So, um, I guess yes.”

Mr. Cleveland gestured to the open seat in the front row. “Then have a seat.”

“Awesome,” Charlie said, dropping into the chair.

“Your timing is perfect, son, because we’re just about to go over the Funnnertainment Employee Handbook.” The man chuckled loudly for a half second, very clown-like, before adding, “Buckle up, Protostars, cuz it’s about to get real.”

I bit down on my lip to hold in a groan.

Nekesa rolled her eyes and mouthed,Real boring.

Mr. Cleveland started reading word for word through the handbook. I pulled out a pencil and took notes—because what else was there to do. He went over the dress code (uniforms only), the payroll system, and employee benefits before we finally broke for lunch.

I’d never been happier to stand.

Everyone had a voucher to get a free meal in the food court, so Nekesa and I—and the rest of the monster-sized training group—started down a long and endless hallway that led to the Galaxy of Funstaurants.

I lowered my voice and said to Nekesa, “Maybe we should ditch now, before lunch.”

“What?”

I glanced over my shoulder. “It wouldn’t feel right to take the free lunch if we’re quitting.”

Nekesa looked at me like I’d just confessed to a squirrel obsession. “Quitting?What are you talking about? This place is totally bonkers.”

“Which is why I said what I said.”

“What is more hilarious than this place, Bay? I could work at a grocery store where customers yell at me because their coupon won’t work, or I could be a Protostar whose quarterly review involves learning a line dance. That, my friend, is gold and should be treated as such.”

It was such a Nekesa thing to say.

Sometimes best friends were like twins separated at birth. But Nekesa and I—not so much.

She was outgoing, hilarious, and always down for a good time. She sewed her own amazing clothes, she took ballroom dancing classes for fun, and she’d punched someone in the mouth once. She was like the heroine in a zombie movie who’d be wielding a stake and yelling,Come and get me, you zombie pussies!

I was… well,notthat. I was perpetually trying to keep up with her. I’d be the girl too busy yellingWaitand flipping through the Zombie Rule Book to notice the zombie hovering behind me, about to eat my brain.

“Well, I’ve never even heard of the Bopper Shuffle.” I scratched my eyebrow and felt uneasy at the thought of working for a company whose core values werefunandbelly laughing. “It is ludicrous that my potential pay increase should hinge upon cheesy choreography.”

“You’re just scared because you suck at dancing,” Nekesa teased, nudging my side with her elbow.

“It’s a ridiculous assessment!” Ididsuck at dancing—Nekesa said I was too repressed to enjoy it—but that didn’t change how absurd the assessment was.

“Nekesa?”

She and I both turned around, and a short-but-built guy with curly blond hair ran up beside her. I expected her to make a smart-ass comment because he was wearing a pinkie ring and a fake Rolex, but instead she squealed, “Oh my God—Theo!”

And she rarely squealed.

Her face lit up as she smiled at this stranger like she was genuinely happy to see him.

The dude, wearing a space suit that matched ours except for the purpleRpatch, smiled and said to Nekesa, “Let me guess—you’re a Protostar.”

“We both are.” She gestured to me, but neither of them actually looked at me as they started walking again and I followed. “What made you assume that?”

“Our trainer said Protostars are pretty much buzzkill know-it-alls,” he teased, “and that is like the actual description of Nekesa Tevitt.”

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