“Elliott’s coming over tonight, so be nice, okay?” Tom looked at me, eyeing me closely. “Sure, okay. Of course I’ll be nice. I like the kid just fine.” I looked at him for a moment, wondering if he knew that calling him names didn’t convey liking him “just fine.” “You call him a ‘delinquent,’ Tom.” He sighed and looked away. “You don’t have much of a sense of humor, do you?” “Say something funny and maybe I’ll laugh.” He ran his hand through his hair. “The kid had one parking ticket, and no arrests or citations. I was being sarcastic.” “Oh.” I could have pointed out that had I known him better, I might have caught the sarcasm, but I left the conversation where it was. “Have fun today.” “It’s work.” “You can’t have fun at work? It’s a part-time job, Soph. Doesn’t the Simons girl work here?” As I nodded, I already had my hand on the handle, eager to get out of the SUV. “She’s a cashier though, and I stock.” I pushed open the car door and then stopped.
