She smiles sweetly at me, making me wonder how much Joe’s already said about me. “Hey, James,” she says. “I’m Marie, remember? We had Irvine for American Lit.”
“I remember.” I can’t see anyone past the swinging doors that lead into the kitchen. Would it be too forward to ask where Deon is? Or even where Joe’s dad might be? I can’t imagine he left a guy like Joe in charge of the place by himself. “What’d you get for your final?” I ask, just to fill the sudden stillness around us.
Marie shrugs. “Ninety-six,” she says. “You?”
I snort derisively. She looks like the smart type. “Eighty-eight.”
She smiles again. “That’s great. So you work here now?”
Jeez. And I didn’t want anyone to know. Me in a deli. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“You do,” Joe confirms, nodding. “Dad hired him yesterday, to help u
