LITMIR.BIZ

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believe I messed that one up. I bet Sally Jane would be laughing up a storm about it if she ever found out, which hopefully she won’t.

      Brandon’s eyebrows wiggle together. “I’m sure you’ll pass. Don’t worry about Mr. Flints… he’s worked here for ages and likes to give the newbies a tough time. Especially, given… well, I wouldn’t mention Eagle Online in front of him.”

      What the what? Now, I need to be hiding my degree and school from our instructor? I’m proud of getting my degree. I worked hard for it, and I’m still paying off the loan I had to take out. And now this rich kid who’s probably had an easy life is telling me I should be ashamed of what I’ve achieved? I should put him in his place, but my mama raised me better than that, so I keep my mouth shut.

      But maybe he knows something I don’t. He seems to know a heck of a lot more about Blue Ribbon Creamery than I do, and he is on the executive path. I start to feel a chill down my spine like a bunch of night critters are making a meal out of me. I won’t let him see that he’s got to me, though. “Huh… how long you reckon Mr. Flints has worked here?”

      Brandon casts his dreamy blues up to the ceiling, which is covered by bright fluorescent lights. I jerk my head back and blink. Ouch.

      “Hmm, he must have worked here for at least twenty years, I remember… er, I think someone mentioned earlier that he had been here for a long time.” He nods. “Anyways, who really cares, right? This isn’t exactly the crème de la crème of factories… at least not given the owner.” He clears his throat.

      “It’s the best creamery in the US… even if you count the place in Vermont.” Not that this matters. I need to focus his attention away from me and my degree at Eagle Online. “Twenty years, he must be nearing retirement then, right?” Please, let this be the case. Surely, if the deep dagger of a reality check that is piercing my side and causing spots behind my eyes brighter than a blue light special at K-Mart is trying to alert me to the fact that Brandon is right about my degree, then I have messed up bigger than the time I couldn’t figure out how to turn off the swirl ice-cream machine on my first day at Dairy Queen. It just kept spinning vanilla and chocolate swirls onto the floor and filling every container I held up until it finally ran out and our floor was covered in melted ice-cream mess. Dorothy almost tripped, which would have been her fourth worker’s comp claim in the past year, and I ended up in more hot water than the laundry mat on payday.

      “Oh I’ll bet he’ll be teaching classes until he takes his last breath. He’s been a pillar of Blue Ribbon since the beginning and I think he’s in good with the Blue family or something. Has to be the only reason they keep him around, right?” Brandon laughs.

      I let out a polite laugh. I don’t want to sit dead pan for Brandon’s attempt at a joke, but I’m definitely not going to be gossiping about other employees and the Blue family. Shoot, no. I know lines and when not to cross them. I dig in my purse for my phone and check out the time. I want to dash off and look up Eagle Online on the internet but there is a part of me that wants to bury my head in a pile of chocolate chips and pretend that I’ve drowned. Because death by chocolate seems like a nice way to go and you don’t really need water to feel like you’re drowning. I couldn’t be anymore drowning than in this moment. I’ve got to get out of here.

      “We have to be back in class in five minutes.” I stand up.

      “It’s only around the corner.” Brandon jerks his back.

      “I need to visit the ladies’. It was nice chatting with you.”

      I don’t wait for him to say the same. I’ve got to make it to the ladies’ and back to the classroom in less than five minutes and I wouldn’t be surprised if there is a line. Lord knows there are lots of ladies who work here.

      I rush through the cafeteria and out the door. The restrooms are at the end of the hall. If this wasn’t my first day on the job and I was alone, I would run, but like my mama always says, have decorum, Sahara, know your manners. I push the door open and hike my way through the room to find an empty stall.

      “Hey there, new girl?”

      I jerk my head back. Is this voice talking to me? I ignore it and go about my business, flush and stalk my way to the sink. An older woman is washing her hands next to me.

      “Listen here, new girl, you be careful around that boy.”

      “Ma’am?” I don’t mean her any disrespect but I’ve got to make it to class and I’m not sure why she is telling me to be careful around… Brandon.

      “Just be careful.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” I nod and hike out of the ladies’ as fast as I can without running. I could probably qualify for the walking event in the Olympics. I’m sure I look ridiculous swinging my arms up and down but I’ve got to make it to room 771 in less than a minute. I slide in through the closing door.

      Mr. Flints is at the front of the class with some odd-looking metal contraption and his eyes are on me. I sure hope he hasn’t been looking over my resume. Good grief, Sahara, what have you gotten yourself into? I slide my way to the back of the class but as I pass Brandon’s desk he hands me a small piece of white paper. Is he passing me a note in class? Does he want me to get in trouble? I sure hope Mr. Flints didn’t pick up on that. I grab it and stick it in my pocket as I sit down. The note is like a fire blazing on a hot July night and I’m fanning myself in the back of the class trying not to sweat. I slowly retrieve the note and open it up. Written are two words and ten numbers that flicker through my chest like a swarm of bees buzzing at a hive. Call me.

       Chapter Three

      After class I scramble to my car and hop in. I saved up for three whole summers to buy Rontu. I thought that was the right name for my brown Chevette. It reminded me of the dog in Island of the Blue Dolphins. I just knew when I laid eyes on it at the flea market that Rontu and I would go on great adventures. Sure, most folks don’t think Chevettes are great cars, but I knew it would be solid and make for great companionship. Shoot, look at us now. Sitting in the parking lot of Blue Ribbon Creamery. First day of training was, I guess, a fifty-fifty. I didn’t scoop ice cream right… but I did meet somebody really nice. My chest tightens. I glance out into the parking lot; most of the cars are gone. Brandon is hustling toward me. I swallow. What am I going to say? What is he going to say?

      His face lights up like the first day of spring and everybody is headed to Dairy Queen for their free scoop of ice cream.

      “Hey there.” He leans into my car window. His body is so large I have to back up or else our faces would be touching. And by our faces I mean our lips. They are so close. The lump in the back of my throat grows bigger, like it’s one of those ridiculous-size jawbreakers that nobody could even fit in their mouth – well, except Suzie T, but that’s not nice to say; I can almost hear my mama clearing her throat in disapproval.

      “Hey.” I kick my own foot. Hey? Why can’t I ever think of something clever? Well, I suppose that’s because I’m Sahara… and unfortunately Sahara is not clever. Especially with her degree that’s not good enough for the creamery. I frown.

      Brandon squints his eyes at me. “Do you want to grab something to eat?”

      I laugh. “Are you trying to come up with another way of buying me a meal?”

      Brandon flashes his healthy chompers at me again. “It wasn’t going to be as fancy as the cafeteria but I have a couple of bucks in my wallet and the dollar menu sounds like a good idea. What do you say?”

      My eyebrows push together. Is he serious? I’m too embarrassed to ask. “Maybe another time. I’ve got to get home and study.”

      Brandon jerks his head back at me. “Study for what?’

      “For this class we’re in. Aren’t you going to?”

      His knuckles brush against his chin like he’s thinking of something. “How

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