Girls Love Travis Walker by Anne Pfeffer Page B

couple of tables, moving dirty dishes and glasses onto a rolling kitchen cart. Kat picked up a damp rag, with which she could have wiped off the tables, if she’d been the type to do some work. I spotted Hilda wandering in our direction in her fluffy bedroom slippers, the only shoes I’d ever seen her wear.
    “It’s a very social job,” Kat continued. “You just sit around and talk to people all day long.”
     She’d be a natural for that. Since I couldn’t think of anything to say, I gave Hilda a big greeting as she stopped in front of me.
     “Hey, Hilda!  What’s up?”
    She eyed Kat with a scowl. “There are no words that rhyme with Travis.”  Her face, tanned dark from the sun, had brown blotches that looked like age spots. Over her other clothes, she wore a huge, torn apron with pictures of vegetables.
    Kat had an artificial smile pasted on her face. “Hi. What a pretty apron.”
    Wrong. I knew what looked good on a woman, and this apron had never had a pretty moment. Even before it got all stained and ripped.
    Hilda didn’t have to be sane to know bullshit when she heard it. She leaned toward me, as if she had secret to tell. “Silly. Filly. Hillbilly,” she pronounced. Her lips were chapped and cracked.
    Kat recoiled. I struggled to keep a polite expression on my face as Hilda’s foul breath enveloped me like fog. She wandered away, muttering. I looked around for Zoey. Finding no sign of her, I began to push the cart toward the next table.
    “So I guess we’re done, right?” Kat tried to get her bright-and-perky face back into place. Anyone with an eye could have seen we had more dining tables to clean up, along with the serving table. And the dishes had to be done. But Kat was looking back and forth between me and the exit.
    “You wanna go hang out after work one day?” she asked. Her hair was pretty, curled around her face. As hard to get as she’d been earlier, she was a sure thing right now. A sure thing, and hot as Hades.
    Easy to bag, but the flip side was, the escape routes were problematic. She was Zoey’s friend. She sometimes worked at the Center. This would be a nightmare. It was Suki times ten.
    And worst of all, if I slept with Kat, Zoey would write me off forever. Other girls might look past something like that, but Zoey wouldn’t.
    I couldn’t do it. “I got another job after this one.”
    “Her lips bunched together in a pout. “Okay then.” She started to turn away, then seemed to have second thoughts.
    “Do you know how to change a tire? When I parked my car to come here, I noticed I was getting a flat.”
    I swore silently to myself. “Okay, but let’s finish up here first. We can do it when the shift ends.”
    “I have a doctor’s appointment! I have to leave now.”
    I didn’t want to be one of those volunteers like Charlotte, who flaked out on their work, leaving it for Zoey to do. “Let me just tell Zoey what’s happening.”  I’d come back afterwards and help her finish up.
    “She went to the bathroom. It’ll only take a minute, and I’m late for my appointment.” Kat headed for the parking lot, with me following reluctantly behind.
    Her brand new cherry red Mini Cooper had picked up a nail in its left front tire.
    “You can probably get it patched,” I said. “Do you know where the spare is?”
    Of course not.
    Kat made dumb conversation to me for the entire half hour it took me to wrestle the spare from its hiding place, get it onto the car, and put the flat tire away. Since my hands were black, I used my wrist to wipe the sweat off my forehead.
    Kat laughed. “Silly boy! Now you got black all over your face!”  She produced a tissue and started wiping my face.
    I ducked backwards. “That’s okay.”  But I was too late. Zoey walked up just in time to see us standing close together, Kat touching my face.
    “Oh, hi Zoey!” Kat said. “Travis is my knight in shining armor!” 
    “She wanted me to change a flat tire for her,” I