Kaleidoscopic

Chapter 3

A few blocks away from Lincoln High School, there was a movie theater wedged between a home appliance store and an arcade. It had an old-fashioned marquee sign that blinked on good days, and a sidewalk that looked more like a sideways shortcut to a lawsuit. But, although it was falling apart, it still attracted large crowds of people.

Evan worked behind the concession counter almost every Friday night—mixing slushies and restocking the candy display. He spent the school day dreading the thought of high schoolers spilling popcorn in the lobby and leaving empty soda cans in sticky cup holders, but somehow, he gathered enough will power to show up every time—with perfect punctuality.

"My hatred for youths could fill stadiums," Rod said, monotone. His mouth moved like a snail chewing bubble gum.

Rod tossed a plunger into the back closet and stood behind the second register. He was a middle-aged man who looked like he had walked straight out of Woodstock. His graying hair was tightly pulled back into a low ponytail, and his 70s-styled mustache made his face look like a scruffy version of Freddie Mercury.

"What happened this time?" Evan asked his boss.

"Someone flushed a pretzel down the toilet," Rod sighed, seemingly despising his job at Drexel Cinema. "Again."

Evan would've asked his boss some follow-up questions, but a smiley blonde bounced up to the candy display and made an immediate beeline for Evan's register.

"Hi, Evan," Heather spoke, beaming like a cartoon.

"Hey," he greeted, unexcited.

"Did you get a chance to develop my photos?"

Evan grabbed a rag from the back sink, procrastinating the inevitable confrontation. He had spent hours in the school's darkroom, hanging Heather's photos out to dry. There were hundreds of images, and all of them were unimpressive.

"Yeah," he told her, wiping the counter to avoid her stare. "But I don't think we'll be using any of them for the yearbook."

Heather's face deflated. "Why not?"

"Because, Heather," he said, looking up. "You only took pictures of your shoes."

"Of course I did," she said seriously. "Our classmates are in desperate need of fashion advice. And I am graciously willing to be the trendsetter that our school is lacking."

Evan blinked at the melodramatic girl. She was dressed in high-waisted plaid pants and a neon yellow top. She looked like she was trying too hard to be on the cover of Vogue, especially with the excessive purple eyeshadow and chunky plastic jewelry. Evan tugged on the ends of his red vest, trying to consider himself wearing her gaudy outfit. He concluded that even Heather's eccentric style was better than his cheesy uniform.

He paused and then let out a breath. "I'll take another look at them," he said.

"Thanks." Her teeth twinkled as if she was expecting the submissive response. Holding up some cash, she added, "I'd like a small popcorn. And Nadine wants some Razzles."

"I thought she was going out with Kenneth tonight?" Evan asked, scooping some popped kernels into a striped bucket.

Heather rolled her eyes. "They had another fight."

It did not surprise Evan that his sister was fighting with her boyfriend again. Their relationship was too turbulent to go along for the ride, so he usually waited for her to mentally park before he pried.

As Evan continued filling Heather's order, the front door chimed. A storm of rowdy boys bustled past the entrance and laughed their way toward the ticket booth. The sudden entry changed the entire mood of the lobby, making the line of people quietly distance themselves from the loud-mouthed weather that had blown their way. The thunderous group had a rift-starting reputation, which was why most people were inclined to avoid them. Danny was among them, discreetly scanning the faces behind the candy counter as soon as he entered.

Evan glanced at the noisy boys in leather as he nervously pulled down his flimsy, paper food-service hat and said, "Your total is two dollars and forty-seven cents."

Heather's bangles clanked on her wrist as she handed Evan the money. As soon as she received her change, she turned her back, and Evan's eyes pivoted toward Danny.

The dark-haired boy casually stretched his neck, maneuvering his head just enough to give Evan a look of acknowledgement. His jaw flexed before he redirected his gaze to the dingy carpeting, clearly growing tired of their boring eye contact. It wasn't unusual for the two boys to go a day or two without saying more than a few words to one another, but it was always Danny who grew annoyed with the lack of contact.

Lost in thought, Evan tried to reverse his own budding smile as he watched Danny try to lessen his own frustration with the crack of his knuckles.

"Oh," Heather obliviously interrupted Evan's staring, remembering something. "And when I win homecoming queen—left is my good side." She struck a pose for emphasis, wobbling on her lilac-colored heels.

Evan nodded, wishing he hadn't signed up for the yearbook committee.

Once Heather was out of earshot, Rod asked, "She your girlfriend?"

"Only in my nightmares," Evan answered.

Danny pretended to look interested in the posters hanging on the art déco wallpaper, reading titles like Cujo, Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, and The Pink Panther. He didn't particularly care for any of the movies listed—he only came to see the tall boy behind the counter.

Separating from the other guys, Danny sauntered past a cheap-looking banister and approached the candy display. Evan visibly broadened his shoulders as Danny stepped to the front of the line.

"I'd like a large Coke," Danny requested. "And a pack of licorice."

Evan only glimpsed at Danny's brown eyes for half of a second before he started pretending to press random buttons on the register.

"Cherry or strawberry?" Evan asked.

"Surprise me," Danny replied. His tone sent a flare of romance into the air, but luckily, it was masked by the deterring smell of dusty vacuum filters and burned butter. Only Evan noticed the hidden smirk in his eyes.

The boy in the paper hat kept his face downcast as he reached for a pack of cherry licorice, knowing it was Danny's preferred flavor. At least that's how his lips usually tasted.

"Your total is one dollar and sixty-nine cents," he stated.

Danny pulled out a few dollars from his pocket and waited for Evan to hold out his hand. When he set the money in his palm, he told him, "Keep the change."

Evan let their fingers brush together momentarily before Danny got sucked back into his tornado of friends. He counted the money first, then flipped over one of the dollars. As always, Danny had written him a message on the back of the one-dollar bill.

When your shift ends.