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“There’s too much ice in this,” the boy said, rattling his drink. “You ripped me off.”
Caitlin sighed, leaning onto the counter. “We use a scooper. Every cup gets the same amount of ice, kid.”
The boy scoffed at her. “Yeah, well, at least I’m not wearing a stupid lemon on my head.” Turning away, he sipped pockets of air through his straw.
Caitlin sighed, and sighed and sighed. This was about the eighth annoying customer in a row she'd dealt with within the past hour. You wouldn’t believe how pissy some people could get over some lemonade. The prices were high, sure, but that wasn’t her fault. Wasn’t her fault they couldn’t afford it.
“Dude, check this out, I finally got it,” Jude said.
Caitlin, with the side of her face pressed against the cold counter, turned to look at her friend. And watched as he kickfliped his finger skateboard with his, well, fingers.
“Wasn’t that awesome?”
“Very,” she said, dryly.
Jude’s infectious smile did not infect her. His lackadaisical attitude seemed to only contribute to her suffering further. To stand here at her dreadful job watching someone the same age as her act so carefree about everything was only making it worse.
And speaking of worse.
“Oh, uh, hey, Max,” she said to the tall guy approaching her stand. He was the nerdy blonde from her math class she’d asked out a few weeks ago. Not normally her type, but he was there, and she was single. So, why not, right? Their first date went well, but as far as their second... well, let’s just say she forgot her wallet while also ordering almost the entire menu at the sushi restaurant.
“I, uh, just don’t think you’re my type,” he said, skipping forward through dialogue, as if she were an npc in a video game.
“Look, if this is about the money, I promise I’ll pay you back, my payday is—”
He waved her off. “Sorry,” he said, turning away, then stopped, turning back to the counter. “Could I get raspberry lemonade though?”
She again sighed. “Five ninety-nine.”
“Damn, you’re running a scam here.” He opened his wallet and took out a ten.
“She’s just a part-timer, dude,” Jude said. “She only makes like three bucks an hour. Plus, tips she never gets.”
“Jude, I make minimum wage. And I do get tips... sometimes.”
“I know,” he said, hitting another trick with his fingerboard. “I’m adjusting for the amount you spend on makeup and clothes you never wear.”
Caitlin groaned as she poured her now ex-boyfriend a drink. “Here,” she said, slamming it on the counter, then remembering to give him change.
“Thanks!” he said, taking a swig. “Oh, and uh, maybe you should actually study the material instead of calling me for answers.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I was going to delete your number anyways.”
“One step ahead of you,” he said, walking away.
And as the mall’s AC chilled her to the core, a football, flung from across the food court, smacked her right on the head. Luckily, she was wearing her big lemon hat. She took the football and chucked it to one of the far open trash cans, the kids shouting obscenities at her as they fetched it.
“I hate everything and everyone,” Caitlin said, a tear in her eye, wanting to shut the lemonade stand right down on her head.
“Aw, dude,” Jude stood up and walked to the counter. “Here, let me finish the rest of your shift for you. C’mon, I’ll buy you a lemonade too, on the house, and a hotdog on a stick later if you’re hungry.”
“But, Jude, Big Steve will fire me if he finds out.”
“He’s the old guy, right? I’ve never seen him around this late into the day. He’s probably at home taking a nap. He’ll never know. Trust me.”
Caitlin gazed at another group of rowdy kids approaching from the distance. She quickly removed her lemon hat and apron, handing it to Jude. “Thanks,” she said.
“No worries, dude,” he said, putting on both. He then held out his palm, in it was the mini-skateboard. “I recommend trying to pop it up and find your balance so you can eventually do like an ollie, or a... or you can just, you know, roll it around.”
Caitlin looked at the board, then to him, then back to the board. “Seriously?”
“It’s more fun than you think.”
“Ugh, whatever,” she took the fingerboard and meandered to the table where he’d been sitting at all day, talking to her about whatever. Things she could care less about right now. Like the afterlife. Whether the soul existed or not. Whether liquid cheese would make a good soda or not. Come to think of it, why exactly was he here all day? Jonesy and Nikki were on a triple movie date (sneaking to other showings one after the other, as they wanted to see more than one movie, but only wanted to pay for one), while Jen wanted to study for her upcoming history exam, and Wyatt wanted to do a “deep listen” to his favorite artist’s new album. Jude meanwhile, had nothing going on, what with being fired again. Did he just have no other place to go to? Caitlin rolled the skateboard on the metal table with her middle and index fingers, watching as Jude fumbled about her stand, attempting and failing to juggle lemons as a line of impatient customers began to form—the boy at the front demanding a drink as if his life depended on it. But hers came first.
“Hey, dude,” Jude said, “How many lemons for a regular?”
“A few,” she said.
“Alright, nine it is. One super lemonade coming right up!”
Such a free spirit, she thought, rolling the board, successfully hitting an ollie on her first try without even looking.