“Ready for another exciting day at work?” I asked.
“Nope.” Elise got out of her truck and grabbed her toolbox from the back.
She always took tools home with her because she picked up side jobs around town with her dad. By next year, she hoped she’d have enough saved to put a down payment on her own repair shop, I’d grow my YouTube viewership, and we’d be on our way to Chicago. Some people took a gap year after high school. We were taking a gap life. Neither of us had plans for college. In my house, college just meant taking on a bunch more debt only to end up waiting tables until your feet fell off.
Elise went around the back, where someone had dropped off a leaky refrigerator. They’d found it on the side of the road and wanted it repaired so they could flip it. I went through the front door and waved at Mr. Nobel and Mr. Crouch—two old men who spent their summers camped out on the bench in front of the store. They didn’t wave back, too distracted by their daily debate over the best war movies. A bell above the door dinged to announce my arrival back from my first Saturday off in over a month. I gave a little twirl and a bow at the entrance.
“Who missed me?” I said to the nearly empty store. We wouldn’t pick up until lunchtime, when everyone with nothing better to do would come in and pretend to browse movies while hoping to pick up on some gossip to get them through the rest of the day.
Midnight, the shift supervisor (a title she’d given herself), pushed a VHS tape into the rewinder. She scratched her eye, smudging the thick black liner she wore like armor. “I missed having someone here yesterday to rewind these tapes. New guy will be here any minute.”
We usually took on an extra person in the summer due to the pass-through traffic we got from people on their way to better places. They were our biggest source of revenue. We kept a hundred working VCRs—that stayed working thanks to the repair shop—and tourists had no problem dropping twenty dollars on the “VCR plus two movies” rental deal so they could experience the marvels of VHS. DVD rentals kept us current, but Gen X nostalgia was our biggest draw.
“Cool.” I tossed my backpack with my lunch into the tiny closet we called a break room. “You can show him how to rewind the tapes.”
She gave me her “I’d rather be at Hot Topic” look. Which was both true and depressing, since there wasn’t a mall within a hundred miles of Honeyfield. Thankfully for her, and her discount goth look, they were willing to ship to the middle of nowhere. She’d graduated last year, but not from my school. At least, I think so. I couldn’t remember ever passing her in the halls, and she was someone I’d definitely remember. She didn’t talk about herself all that much. I didn’t even know if she lived in Honeyfield. The only thing I did know was that Midnight wasn’t her real name, but I had no idea what it was. I’d never bothered to ask, and she’d never bothered to supply it, so we called her what she wanted.
Butch, the fifty-year-old ex-Marine, who was technically the manager, slept off a hangover in his office on the repair side. Though it was a shock that he showed up at all. Usually he left us to our own devices and only came in when his wife kicked him out of the house again and he needed a place to crash for a little while.
I uploaded the picture of me and Mom with the fly ball to Instagram while Midnight put out the popcorn on the counter. Our employer didn’t provide snacks for sale, or much of anything really, so Midnight bought popcorn and candy from the grocery store and sold the packages individually. A somewhat lucrative side hustle I was mad I hadn’t thought of first.
The entrance bell dinged and a huge Asian guy with a soft face took up the entrance. I recognized him from school. He seemed a little lost, and did that thing with his hands where he’d clasp them together then put them back at his sides because he wasn’t sure what to do with them. I connected with his general discomfort on a visceral level.
“You must be Brady.” Midnight used her (self-appointed) shift supervisor voice. The all-business tone, short spiked black hair, and heavy eyeliner were an intimidating effect. Brady took a full step back. “Macy is going to train you while I do paperwork in the back.”
His dad owned the pharmacy, which made his appearance a little surprising. I didn’t think the rich kids had to work like the rest of us. Or at least the kids who were as rich as anyone could be in Honeyfield.
I hooked my arm through Brady’s. “You’re one of us now,” I said.
“Okay,” Brady’s voice cracked, and his cheeks pinkened as he cleared his throat.
“What made you get a job here anyway? I’m not trying to be rude, but I know I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be.”
“My dad said I couldn’t spend all summer playing video games. He wants me to show initiative and responsibility or something. So here I am.”
“Here you are.” I pulled him toward the back of the store. “I’ll give you the grand tour. Should take all of five seconds.”
I pointed out where the thin carpeting met the concrete floor, to differentiate the video store from the repair shop. After I showed Brady how the Action, Drama, Comedy, and Children’s sections were divided by rows and kept in alphabetical order, I brought him over to the spinning DVD racks. We had way more DVDs than VHS tapes, but they took up a fraction of the space, since whoever owned this place put more emphasis on saving wall space for the tapes in the summer. The Tuesday after Labor Day, we closed the store and moved the tapes to the racks and the DVDs to the walls, since most of our winter business came from local farms too remote to get any decent streaming services.
A narrow wall by the register held our staff picks. We each got to choose five movies and write up an index card with a short description. “The top row is mine,” I said.
Brady pursed his lips as he read my index card for Toy Story. “‘Middle-aged cowboy has existential crisis over emerging technology’?”
“Tell me a more accurate description.” When he remained silent, I moved on. “This dark and gloomy tomb of classics is Midnight’s. She thinks black-and-white films add to her whole noir persona, but I happen to know her actual favorite movie is Bring It On.”
Brady cracked a smile for the first time since he’d walked into the store. He touched the index card for Citizen Kane. “‘Despite infamous wealth and fame, man’s greatest regret is that one time he didn’t make it with a sled.’”
“Paxton wrote that one. You probably know him from school. Graduated this year? Tall guy? Big ears? Bigger smile? Anyway, he works over on the repair side. We swapped it out with the description Midnight wrote two weeks ago and she still hasn’t noticed.”
“Midnight is kind of …” Brady gulped.
“Scary?” When he nodded, I nudged him. “Will it help to know her real name is Sunshine?” Probably not true, but he didn’t need to know that. “Don’t tell her I told you though, or she will literally sacrifice me to the blood moon.”
“Don’t worry, it’ll be our secret.” He grinned and I had a strong urge to hug him and protect him from all harm for life. Even though he was three times my size.
I almost felt bad about sticking him on rewind duty, but better him than me.