Page 49 of Pucking Matt
“What are you insinuating, Matthew?”
He laughs, greeting the customers walking in. He turns to me and says, “I’ll make the sandwiches and you take the order?”
I shrug. “That’s how we always do it.”
He sticks out his fist for me to bump it. I reluctantly bump his fist with mine.
“Yeah,” he says with a smile.
I smile, turning to the customer. “Hi, what can I get for you?”
A few more people roll in, so we’re busy for about an hour. It’s not as uncomfortable as it used to be. Our screws are finally a little loose.
We clean the tables, tidy up the prepping area, and restock a few things.
“So what’s changed?” he asks when the place is quiet.
“What’s changed?” I ask, confused.
“You said earlier that you’re not like that anymore, so what’s changed?”
I smile. “Have you ever heard of hormones? Raging teenager hormones?”
He laughs. “It was that bad, huh?”
I confess, “It was so bad, and I’m sorry you were in my crossfire.”
He smiles. “You’re not so bad, Amby.”
I hate that my stomach is swirling at the look on his face. For a moment, it feels like only the two of us exist in this world.
He continues, “I thought working here would look a lot like…”
He’s approaching me, but I don’t back down from a challenge. He leans in to grab…the mustard. Oh, hell no. He points it at me and says, “Like this.”
He squirts mustard on my cheek and all the way down my apron. I wipe the mustard from my cheek with the back of my hand. I smell it and mutter, “You couldn’t have chosen mayonnaise or something else? I hate mustard.”
“And I hate raisins,” he argues, squirting me again.
“Matt!” I scoff, glancing down at the mess of mustard down my apron. Disgusting.
“Here,” he says, handing me the mustard. “Have some fun.”
He opens his arms as if I would seek revenge. Instead I take the mustard and put it back. “I’m not squirting you.”
“So, those raisins are your personal raisins?”
I nod.
“Well, that’s just wrong. I don’t think we can be friends now.”
“Friends?” I ask, insulted.
He shrugs. “What else is there?”
“Coworkers.”
“Oh, you don’t even want to be friends with me? You just want to be coworkers?” He scoffs, offended, but laughing.
