Unfortunate Friends 2: Dishonor Students

Jake

I shuffle my way downstairs, wiping the sleep from my eyes, and turn on the coffee machine. While it gurgles and splutters, I busy myself making a sandwich.

Mmm, peanut butter and banana on white bread.

“Thanks, Jakey.” Andy walks past, sweaty and slightly out of breath from his stupidly early morning run, grabbing my beautiful creation out of my hand.

“Dude!” He grins at me, winking as he takes a big bite. “Fucker.”

I start making another sandwich, my stomach grumbling now.

“Oh my gosh, thanks for making breakfast, Jakey.” George slides my plate toward her and takes a bite of my new sandwich.

“For fuck’s sake! Do you guys not have any fucking clue about personal space?”

My best friends look at each other and collapse into laughter. I purse my mouth and pour myself a mug of coffee, adding lots of milk and sugar.

Just as I raise it to my lips, George snatches it off me.

“Oh, come on!”

George scurries off into the living room with my breakfast, and I sigh, sweeping my hair back with a flick of my wrist, glaring at a still-chuckling Andy. He shrugs, following his girlfriend.

I eventually get to keep a sandwich and some coffee and sink down with my breakfast onto the sofa next to George, who immediately swings her feet up onto my lap.

After I finish eating, I absentmindedly run my finger up and down the sole of her foot, my other hand resting on her ankle. There is still a slight bump where she broke it last year.

“So what’re we gonna do today, guys?”

Andy stretches. “Well, first off, I’m gonna grab a shower, then I need to go to the bookstore and pick up the last of my assigned reading material. Then I’ve got to go to some meeting with the coach.”

“I’m meeting my dad for lunch. You wanna come with?” George licks the last of the peanut butter off her thumb, and I catch Andy watching intently.

He leans forward and whispers something in her ear, making her blush and giggle. I roll my eyes.

“Nah. I think I’m gonna try and find a job if you are all too busy to hang out.”

“Yeah yeah, okay, dude.” Distracted, Andy stands up and offers his hand to George, “So are you gonna join me for that shower?”

“Gross! Just remember I’ve gotta share that bathroom with the two of you, so make sure all bodily fluids are properly washed away when you’re finished.”

George blushes harder, slapping my arm. Andy just smirks at me, pulling her off the sofa.

As they disappear upstairs, I lean back, linking my hands behind my head and stretching my legs out, not able to help the grin spreading on my face.

This is gonna be a fucking awesome year.

***

After spending all morning wandering the streets nearby looking for work, I was officially over the whole fucking thing.

The only jobs going are either for bartenders, which I am too young for, or baristas, which I honestly can’t think of a worse job to do.

I sit down in a café I wander into because of the help wanted sign in the window.

But after watching the guys behind the counter while waiting in line, I feel completely justified in how I view the job. It looks like fucking hell.

I take a sip of my lukewarm coffee and gaze out of the window.

A small, unassuming shop opposite catches my attention.

Over the top of it is a dirty sign proclaiming it to be “McGee’s Music Shop,” and in the dusty window is the familiar red-and-white sign advertising help wanted.

A music shop? Now that is a job I can see myself in. I grin and gulp down the rest of my drink before walking across the street and pushing open the door marked enter.

A small bell chimes, and from somewhere in the back of the dark interior, behind a stack of boxes, a small bald guy pops up.

“Can I help you?”

“Um, well, I’m hoping I can help you.” I gesture to the sign, and he squints at me.

“I don’t pay well.”

“That’s cool. Anything helps, to be honest.”

He squints some more, looking me up and down. Maybe I should have dressed smarter today. My ripped jeans and tie-dyed long-sleeved tee were maybe not screaming responsibility.

“You like music?”

“I love music. All kinds.” I can’t help but smile smugly. If this guy asks me anything about any genre, I know I can answer him.

“Okay. You got the job.” He sniffs, rubbing his nose against his shirt sleeve.

“Don’t you…um, like don’t you want to see a resume or references or anything?”

“Nope.” The man walks away, disappearing into a back office.

I frown and follow him.

“Um…so when should I start?”

“Whenever.” He turns from the box he is rifling through and hands me a dusty black apron.

“Thanks?”

“So, what’s your name?”

“Um…Jake. Jake Nelson, sir.” I hold out my hand, but he just squints at it before shrugging.

I frown and drop my hand. This guy is super weird!

“You can call me Mr. McGee.” He shuffles past me as the bell chimes. “This is my deadbeat son’s shop. He’s like you.” He eyes me up and down again, sniffing a couple of times.

I’m suddenly acutely aware of the fact that I probably stink of weed, and I feel my cheeks redden slightly.

“He’s gone now, and I’m left to run this shithole.”

“Gone? Like he died?”

“Ha! I should be so lucky. No, he’s finding himself in India somewhere.” Mr. McGee shakes his head. “My son’s an idiot.”

He goes over to the counter to serve a customer, and I look around properly. It is dimly lit because most of the light bulbs are blown.

Eyeing up the rickety ladder standing in the corner and the grumpy little man who is now my boss, I can see why they haven’t been changed yet.

There are stacks of vinyl everywhere, punctuated with the occasional crate of CDs. Nothing seems to be in alphabetical order or even arranged in genre. My fingers itch to reorganize everything.

“Hey, Mr. McGee? What is my role in the shop?”

“Do whatever you want.” He grabs the sign out of the window and waves me off over his shoulder as he shuffles back to the office.

Whatever I want? This is gonna be epic!