Free Shrimp by Rachel Cohn Page B

double--make that triple--negatives.
    "Good, because I didn't say that either." Whatever I didn't say at this particular juncture, a little baked and a lot confused, I was just trying to get inside his pants. Big difference.
    "Then we're agreed. Let's just be friends for now. I've got enough to deal with having my parents back in the house and all this schoolwork I have to make up, and Java is thinking of opening a store in the East Bay, which means I'll be working a lot of hours, and there's the surfing and time for my art and..."
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    No need to beat this subject to death. "I got it," I snapped.
    "Don't be like that," Shrimp said. "There's just too much weirdness right now. Can't you feel it?"
    I knew he was right, but part of me couldn't help but feel scorned, too. I mean, aren't guys supposed to be all about grabbing whatever piece of booty becomes available to them, no matter the consequences?
    Shrimp opened the freezer and pulled out the 7-Eleven burrito for me, like it was a peace offering, but I said, "No, thank you." I called Fernando to come pick me up early. I knew Fernando would take me to Krispy Kreme and be silent and brooding and not ask why my eyes were bloodshot--because I was stoned or because I was heartbroken?
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    *** Chapter 9
    The irony of my senior year being all about Shrimp is that the guy I can't seem to get away from is Alexei the Horrible. Guess who was in the car when Fernando came to pick me up?
    "Hiya, Princess," Alexei said when I hopped into the backseat of the Mercedes sedan. Just the sight of him was enough to ruin my Humboldt buzz. "I guess you forgot all about how to use MUNI, our city's beloved public transportation system." The sedan smelled like the pine tree air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror mixed with sweat and Alexei's atrocious CK cologne.
    "Not really," Fernando said. "I insisted. You seen how many H addicts and crackheads live in this neighborhood? She's not taking MUNI home from Ocean Beach at night on my watch. Loco" Since Fernando had stood up for me, I didn't point out that Ocean Beach can look depressing but it's also the home of "Just Friends" Shrimp, whose sole presence could brighten any neighborhood's fundamental depressing vibe. But much as I love to think of Ocean Beach as Cyd Charisse-Shrimp paradise, Fernando did have a point. Land 0' Beach Bunnies and chirpy-sunny-happy people Ocean Beach is not, what with being overrun by fog and cold and, yeah, seedy hourly motels, grimy bars, and a small but thriving population of hard-core druggies to go along with its glorious Pacific Ocean surf.
    ''Alexei," I said, "would it be possible for you to get
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    your own life going and stop worrying about mine? Why are you in the car, anyway?" I reached into my Sailor Moon backpack for my audio player. The Dead Kennedys couldn't drown out Alexei quickly enough.
    Pray for me to make it through a whole semester working with Alexei. My first day on work-study I couldn't even tell him it is actually possible that a punk-Goth chick can be personable and even, dare I say, beloved, to customers, or that I can help with fixing the espresso machine when it's clogged, before he snapped at me, "I am not going to spend my semester off baby-sitting the Little Hellion. I don't know what Sid was thinking, placing you in this environment. I can't imagine you have any useful skills." And I just tore into him. Did he know I was Employee of the Month two consecutive months when I had worked at Java the Hut? Did Alexei know how many customers asked for me personally at Java the Hut and The Village Idiots? Was it not a fact that I repeatedly worked double shifts, unasked, at both establishments when flaky employees didn't show up because they thought they were too good for minimum wage? Ask me how full the tip jar was when I was on duty--just ask me, Alexei. Then Sid-dad had popped his bald head into the restaurant, along with a group of fellow investors, right as I was about to explain to