Darren suddenly looked hopeful as he provided me another sweet smile. He ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair. “Well then, would you wanna go to the party…with me?”
I found myself smiling. “Are you asking me out?”
“Only if you say yes,” Darren defended. “Otherwise, I’m totally joking and not trying to be an awkward dork.”
Blushing wildly, I nodded. “I’d love to go with you.” Suddenly, a loud noise broke apart the sweet moment. The dark-skinned co-worker I now knew as Bobby had slammed down a table with force. He seemed angry as he worked setting up two more eight-foot tables identical to it. I cocked a brow at Darren, who merely shrugged in return.
“I try not to pay attention to these guys,” he admitted quietly.
Cale entered the room next, slapping down a bucket of clips on the table. The look on his face was hostile. He seemed just as agitated as Bobby. The two of them were mad about something, and it was evident in their walks and the way they kept slamming down materials. “What’s wrong with you two?”
I regretted asking as soon as the words were out of my mouth. Cale turned to glare at me. “Perry and Matt are both no shows today. You know whose stupid ass is stuck here for an eight-hour shift to babysit you retards? Mine.”
I watched Cale with wide eyes. Darren seemed far more used to the antics of his temporary coworkers, for he ignored the redhead and went back to work.
“You’re a supervisor but can get away with name calling and simultaneously being a total tool,” I remarked mildly. “That’s amazing.” Cale’s ears turned pink as he looked flustered.
“Why are you even still here?” he soon shot back. “You should take a hint and leave this department already.”
Darren and I exchanged glances. I found myself growing more annoyed the longer I talked to Cale. “And why should I leave this department?”
This was probably my biggest problem. I never knew when to be quiet or to stop asking questions. Cale smirked. “Because you’re unqualified, m’lady.”
My eyes narrowed. “Coming from an idiot like yourself? I can’t take that too seriously.”
Cale smiled as Bobby snorted. The latter seemed to find me amusing. “Haven’t you wondered why you were only scheduled for mornings since starting here? Why you’ve only been assigned dainty little morning shifts from seven to three or earlier? Haven’t you figured out why?”
“No, but you’ll probably waste our time and tell us anyway,” said Darren coolly.
I had wondered that very question but didn’t care too much to ever ask. I decided to bite. “No, why?”
“Cale,” warned Bobby. The two exchanged soft glares. It seemed to be a warning look. Whatever it was about was enough for Cale. He backed off entirely.
“You’re not good enough to handle the night shifts, so Perry purposely schedules mornings only,” he offered before walking away and out of the room.
Bobby finished clipping the table before leaving the room as well. I watched the doorway where they exited as Darren started putting a skirt around the table. There was more to that moment, that much I could tell. But it was stopped by Bobby. It was as if Cale had more to say but had to contain himself. “Was that exchange really weird, or is it just me thinking that?” I wondered aloud to Darren.
“To be fair, just about all exchanges are weird with those guys. They’re immature and also morons. I wouldn’t take them too seriously.”
CHAPTER 8
Darren most likely had a point. There was no point in thinking too much about Cale and his stupid commentary. Too often at work he was babbling nonsense, whether the topic was rap music or discussing the best animes to watch. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more than met the eye regarding my bizarre coworkers. But I struggled with my own thoughts. I wasn’t sure if I was just overthinking everything in life. I justified my irrational thoughts on my nerves being already on edge regarding Matt and the hypothetical scenario he was a supernatural creature.
By the time I got home later that afternoon, I figured my mind was playing tricks on me. When I closed the door of my truck, I strongly suspected someone or something was watching me from the forest. Irrationally, I was about to make a quick run to the front door before Simon’s voice caught me off guard. “Ha! You look terrified. I guess you can’t see me?”
I squinted into the forest as Simon and his friend Erik poked their head out of the woods. The boys went to high school together and had only met the end of last semester. They had bonded immediately over their love of video games. I personally didn’t understand the appeal for them, but that was because I never played any. Simon was the sole gamer of our family or, rather, the hog of all the gaming consoles.
He and Erik emerged from the woods simultaneously. They were dressed in camouflage jackets and pants, thick black combat boots covering their feet. I recognized they were the clothes our dad owned. Our father had bought them in preparation for hunting season in Wisconsin. It was a pointless purchase, according to my mother. Dad had shoved the clothes in his closet and had forgotten about them the rest of the year. Evidently, Simon had not. As he came closer, the pants were a tad oversized on his gangly frame, but Erik’s taller and muscled body filled out Erik’s just fine. I couldn’t tell if the combat boots were also our father’s or if the boys were wearing shoes Erik already owned.
Both boys looked excited. It looked as if the teenagers were quite proud of themselves. Simon looked years younger than his fifteen years as his boyish features lit up in an impish grin. He gave a fist pump. “It worked! She couldn’t see us.”
“What are you guys doing?”
“Working on strategy tactics to kill the werewolf,” said Simon triumphantly. I could only stare at him. I motioned my hand toward Erik as if to silently show him his friend was here and overhearing us.
“It’s okay, ma’am. I believe you guys, and I wanna help kill the wolf,” said Erik seriously. I nearly rolled my eyes. Erik Henderson was an overly polite teenager who was a pretty quiet individual. I had no problem with him; it only annoyed me how he consistently called me ma’am. Miranda escaped that wording. Erik called her by her first name. If it came to me or my mom, Erik always called us ma’am.
“Stop calling me ma’am. I’m not that much older than you.”
“It’s a sign of respect, ma’am.” I thought he was trying to be funny. But it didn’t appear as if Erik said this to be mocking. He was quite serious. Maybe this was just how ridiculously polite some kids turned out after their parents served in the military.
The boy scratched at his shaved head before readjusting his wide-framed glasses. I stared at my brother. “You told him about the werewolf?”
Simon rolled his shoulders. “You can’t hunt a werewolf and not have an ally.” He snorted as if he thought I was the dumb one. At the tender age of fifteen, it was if he felt he had all the answers.
My hands balled into fists at my sides. “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with! You can’t just go around telling anyone who’ll listen—”
“If I may interrupt, ma’am, I’m an experienced hunter,” said Erik earnestly. “I’ve hunted with my dad and my grandpa. My entire life I’ve hunted, and I’ve never missed a duck or doe. I’m valuable!” His voice was a whine. The boy sounded as though he were attending tryouts and I was the one in charge of running them. Erik looked at me with pleading hazel eyes. “I wanna kill a werewolf!”