Zenon's Game Chapter 35

When 5pm rolled around, Heidi sauntered over to the front door and jumped into Matt's car. He hadn't even come out of the car to say hello.

I stayed on the couch, watching TV show reruns. I waved goodbye to my mother, who also had evening plans. She was going out for drinks. Moredrinks.

I wasn't expecting anyone at home for a while, so I was surprised when the doorbell rang. I shook the cookie crumbs off my pajamas and got up. I had passed out on the couch and there were red lines on my face from where I'd pressed into the cushions. 

I opened the door without checking who was there.

"Did you forget somethi-"

Oh.

My.

God.

"Zenon?!"

There he was; the 'too hot for a daytime fantasy' neighbor. The 'I contribute to global warming I'm so hot' boy next door.

"You do know that it's daytime right?" he stared me up and down, "You look like a mess."

I held the door and ignored his judgment. This wasn't my first time dealing with Zenon Albert. "You have my number. You could've texted."

"I could've." He shrugged and walked in, uninvited.

He stood in my living room for the first time. He was curious what our house looked like. The TV was blaring old OC reruns. There were Chinese foo dog statues on either side of the entrance. A bowl of fake crystal were on the coffee table. He didn't comment on anything, he just took it all in.

I started to feel self-conscious. I looked like a mess and he was standing here, in my house, because he wanted to see me. He did want to see me, right?

"You're not here for Heidi, are you?"

"Who?"

Heidi was pretty, but she was not part of Zenon's social circle. In fact, it was Heidi's life mission to get in. Thinking of Heidi in the movie theater right now, I knew she'd kill to be back here with Zenon. And I know who she'd kill. Me.

"Um..." I started nervously, "Why are you here?"

He dropped onto the couch, getting way too comfortable in my house. I tried not to focus on how the olive fabric of the couch complemented his skin tone or how tempting it was to sit where he'd extended his arm. 

I was still annoyed at him for what happened at school.

"I don't know if you can roll your mind back to the day you totaled my computer," he picked up the remote and instinctively switched to ESPN, "but that car is not one I'm forgetting any time soon. I saw it parked in the driveway and figured it was yours. Who knew we were neighbors?"

"Yeah, who knew?" I rolled my eyes. I've known for 13 years.

"Damn, Candace, is this yours?" he leaned forward, staring at the cookie crumbs, wrappers and melted tub of ice cream on the coffee table.

I was embarrassed and rushed to take it away, but his hand picked up the birthday cake flavored ice cream. "This isn't even vanilla. What are you doing with your life?"

"Vanilla?!" I judged so hard. "You don't need to match your ice cream to your personality."

He laughed, that familiar genuine laugh. I'd forgotten how good it sounded.

"Do you want some?" I offered him a clean spoon, tempting him to the dark side.

He put the lid on it. "No."

Zenon didn't come by to say hi. I had to remind myself that he never does - not when he has an entire fan club of hot girls and sporty friends. 

He had a request. Another demand that, if completed, would take my debt on his laptop down. I should've known Zenon wasn't into being friends with me.

He only talks to models... As the girl in the lunch line had said.

"How much is this favor worth?"

"$40," he answered, as we arrived at a Professional Sports Physical Therapy and Rehab Center. 

"The opportunity cost of my time is more valuable than that," I argued, staring at the sign. Why were we at rehab?

"I'll buy you dinner on the way back."

I got excited, "McDon-"

"Something with vegetables," he said bluntly, shooting me down.

I think he'd been scarred by the cookies/ice cream/candy situation on my coffee table.

"Lame."

He didn't care. He walked through the clinic, past signs that pointed to 'fitness and nutrition consulting' and 'performance enhancement sports training.' That last one looked a bit dicey. He walked towards the department that said 'physical therapy.'

"Why are we here?  Are you injured?" I asked, trying to hide my concern.

"Wait here please and face the window until I come to you."

"What?!" I asked, but he was already gone.

I faced the window and checked my phone to see if I'd gotten any acceptance letters for part-time jobs. I'd applied to everything in the neighborhood and only received rejections so far. Finally, I got lucky. 

Email title: Accepted. I immediately clicked on that. It was for a clothing store in a strip mall nearby. Minimum wage but good after-school hours.

"Hey," Zenon's deep voice brought me out of my own mind.

"I got a job!" I exclaimed, almost knocking over the clipboard he held in his hand.

"Where?"

I was surprised he asked. 

"At Lola Roe."

I went quiet when I saw another Accepted email. It was for a pizzeria in the same mall. Longer hours but promise of higher pay through tips. Ooh I was conflicted. Which one do I choose?