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Mason Maloney

The bakery was slammed Tuesday afternoon and Sam was late. I knew he had practice until at least 3:30, but it was past four and he still hadn't shown up. And of course, the day he was going to be late was the day I was here by myself and a million people came in needing to fill out cake orders or buy two dozen donuts or just drive me insane. I was manning the register while also arguing with Sandy on the phone.

"Sandy, I need help. Sam's not here and it's super busy," I pleaded, handing a customer their change.

"I worked yesterday and didn't call you to come in on your day off," she reminded me like she already had three times before.

"You had two other people with you yesterday," I told her, trying to keep my voice calm in front of the customers.

"I still didn't call you," she said. "Sam's cute, but I don't want to do him any favors and get nothing in return."

I bit my lip to keep myself from groaning. "First of all, you'd be doing me a favor, second of all you'd be getting paid."

Thankfully, Sam walked in before Sandy said anything else. His hair was wet and messy as he ran his hand through it, hurriedly walking by the line of customers to get behind the counter.

"Never mind, he's here," I said and hung up before Sandy could respond.

"Nice of you to show up," I said in an annoyed tone as Sam threw his apron on.

He sent me a glare. "Practice ran late."

I knew that Charlene hired him knowing that his football schedule could be unpredictable, but I was still annoyed that he was late. I was probably more annoyed at him because I had texted him last night so he could tell me what Nathan did, but he ignored me. Then, when I asked Nathan what he did, he wouldn't tell me.

"Whatever, you do the register," I said, walking toward him. "I have to refill the shelves."

I didn't wait for a response before walking into the kitchen and grabbing a tray of donuts to put out on the nearly empty shelves. Sam was moving quickly to get all the customers what they wanted. He bumped into me and nearly made me drop the tray I was holding, but didn't say anything as he grabbed two blueberry muffins and finished that order.

I spent the next half hour filling shelves while Sam took care of the customers. The line had finally died down and the two of us could breathe. I rested against the shelf behind me and closed my eyes for a moment. Who decided Tuesday was bakery day for the crazies?

"What went on yesterday?" I decided to ask Sam. He couldn't ignore me when we were face to face.

He just shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

I didn't know why I wanted to know, but I did. Sam was acting strange about the whole situation.

"Nathan's an ass sometimes–"

"Just shut up about Nathan!" Sam snapped. "He got his payback."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "Practice didn't really run late today did it? You just retaliated against Nathan."

Sam shrugged. "He got what was coming to him. He messed with my car, so I messed with his."

Anger instantly filled me. I knew  I wouldn't be able to think straight.

"You messed with our car? That's my car too Sam! Did you think about that?" I argued. I didn't care if Sam felt the need to get back at Nathan, I just wished I would be left out of it.

Sam scoffed and crossed his arms. "You barely use it and I did what I had to. It's not my fault you're in the crossfire."

"Yeah, well it's not my fault either so you and Nathan can leave me out of this shit," I spat angrily.

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