Kat

Tom wasn’t lying. It was a Friday night and here they were, 11:30 and no one had come in since the Pizza Stack closed. 

Daisy had left after telling Kat what a good job she’d done. She’d tried to be careful with all the orders, making sure all the slips were correct and the orders put together. She helped with the pizza construction, whammed at least a dozen pies into the oven herself and made sure to take them out before they burned. A couple got crispier than intended, but Daisy was a patient teacher, and the potheads who picked those ones up didn’t seem to care. They were munching before they’d even left the store. 

But the truth was, as nice as everyone was being, she wasn’t helping. She knew she was slowing them down, and she’d have to do better. If her last gig was any indication, she wasn’t detail-oriented, and she had a long way to go in customer service.  

Their patience won’t last forever. 

“Any questions?” Tom asked. 

“None yet, but the shift really just got started.” 

“And yet, that’s basically it,” Tom said, leaning against the front counter. “The rest of the night is just waiting for the sun to come up.” 

The job was forty hours a week, ten-hour shifts, four days on, four days off. 8pm to 6am. But the idea that that majority of that time would be dead air… Kat found that hard to believe. 

“Then…why are we here?” 

“We’re firewatch,” Tom answered. “We make sure someone is here if anything goes wrong and we help the odd lost traveler or trucker who needs a snack. Otherwise, it’s just watching a bunch of trucks up and fuel up for the coming day.” 

“So, what do I do?” Kat asked. It would be a lot of time to fill. Even her homework wouldn’t cover it. 

“You clean, you restock, make a pizza if you’re hungry. We get them for half price,” Tom winked at the end and Kat nearly blushed. “Your aunt is a pretty great boss.” 

Kat shrugged.  

“Could have been Bradley’s decision.” 

Tom rolled his eyes. 

“Doubtful. He’s pretty stingy with us. Though he often takes a pizza home for himself, if he thinks no one is looking.” 

“Well, he does work long hours. Must be hard to cook for him family—” 

“No family, no kids. And he usually grabs a large.” 

“Maye he’s a foodie?” 

“Nah, he just starves himself if no one is looking. Doesn’t like people to see it, but the man is ravenous.”  

Tom made some snorting and snuffling noises but Kat looked away. It was a bit too mean-spirited for her. 

“Food stuff is hard, so cultural, but some people don’t get it,” she breathed in deeply, ignoring the urge to run her hand over her side…passively counting her ribs.  

“I probably won’t eat the pizza,” she said, trying to change the subject.  

Tom smiled nervously at her. Had she already put her foot in her mouth? 

“They’re pretty good. I sometimes grab a small on and fold it over into a nice pizza sandwich.” 

Kat smiled, happy things were back on track.  

“Like a calzone?” 

“Yeah,” Tom said, his eyes darkening. “Though I only one of the staff ever called them that.” 

Oh no, what did she say now? 

Tom shook his head and the pleasantries returned to his face. 

“Sorry, us woods fold usual call them benders or fold overs. Either way, the only other option is junk food or the hotdogs,” he said glancing towards the machine. “Don’t eat those.” 

“Why?” 

Tom cringed.  

“Because the few times I’ve had them, man, I swear I can’t even tell what meat they’re supposed to be.” 

Kat couldn’t stand processed meat, even when she fell off the veggie wagon.  

“I’ll take your word for it. Sounds like the pizzas are the only edible thing here.” 

“Yeah, so far, so good there. Probably just because they’re fresh. If Bradley had his way, they’d show up frozen and be just as much of a shift show as the dogs and slush.” 

Kat wondered at the reason. It seemed like a stretch to blame it all on Bradley. He’d seemed really nice the few times they’d met. 

“Maybe someone is messing with them?” 

Tom laughed. 

“What, like they are throwing salsa into the tumbler with the ice? Swapping out our hotdogs with jerky when we aren’t looking?” 

“Well, from what I hear not all the night staff is as sane as you.” 

She knew she’d gone too far as soon as she said it. It was like the room grew dimmer, fading away as her stomach sunk. 

“You mean Rodney?” Tom said, barely masking the annoyance she could see in his eyes. “You know he’s not the guy they say he is?” 

Kat held up a hand apologetically. 

“I just assumed, since he was fired and all. I heard he was negligent and—” 

“He wasn’t fired,” Tom said with a sigh. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself and instead simply sighed a second time. “You’re new, so try not get caught up in the rumor mill, okay?” 

Kat could feel her cheeks burning. 

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to…I always do this.” 

Too much, Kat. You’re saying too much again. 

“I just don’t want to make a bad impression. I always make a bad first impression.” 

Tom smiled, probably out of sympathy. Like it was the only positive response she could illicit. 

“You just don’t know him, that’s all,” he said, looking wistful. “He made a bad impression… not that you do. You’re great.”  

Another sympathetic smile.  

“I think he was trying to do it.” Tom continued, eyes cast down, returning to that same dark place as before. “Holding up the worst version of himself like armor. But that wasn’t him, it was just what people made him.”  

He sighed for a third time; this one was honest. Tired.  

“Sometimes people become the version they want to be, sometimes it’s the one they need to be…more often they become the one people mold them into. That was the version of Rodney people saw – the one they wanted to see. He was trying to be what they wanted…like the rest of us.” 

Maybe it was the light, but Tom didn’t simply look tired. It was an expression she often saw in the mirror. The face of someone used to seeing ghosts. 

“Well, he still has time,” Kat said, hoping Tom would understand. “He doesn’t have to be the person everyone made. Someday, hopefully, he can be the person who makes him happy.” 

Tom’s lip quivered. Had she over done it again? 

“Yeah, I hope so too.”  

Tom gave the stubble on his cheek a quick scratch. “But hey, we have what, five or so hours to kill? What do you do in your free time?” 

“You mean when I’m not over-sharing or prying?” 

“Yeah,” Tom chuckled, “Outside of your other job.” 

“Well, outside of making people uncomfortable, I’m enrolled in online courses.” 

Tom’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh nice! How are you liking those? What are you taking?” 

“Loving them. I can stay put and pick at the classes on my own schedule. There is way less pressure. Oh, and I’m taking a mix of psychology and sociology mainly.” 

“Planning on being a therapist?” 

She did, as far away as it seemed. But she felt silly saying it out loud.  

How could someone as fucked up as her help anyone else? 

“Yeah,” she said, “Something like that. “It feels miles away though.” 

“How far in are you?” 

“Two years now, or at least I should be.” 

He scratched his face again. 

“That makes you, what, 21?” 

“19,” Kat corrected, horrified. “I hope you’re bad at math… I don’t look in my twenties, do I?” 

“No,” Tom stuttered. “You look my age. 18, I mean. How are you two years in?” 

“I’m young for my cohort,” she said plainly, the line rehearsed and repeated. “Also, I’m taking a condensed schedule. I should be two years in now, but…” 

“But what?” 

“It’s not going well. I’m having a hard time keeping up.” 

A look crossed over his face. Was it more sterile sympathy or worse? 

“Most people don’t keep up with extra courses. It’s okay to go at a normal pace.” 

“It isn’t when you have a millionaire as an example…” 

“Oh. Is she hard to please?” Tom asked, his tone cautious. 

Kat shook her head. 

“Worse. She coddles me. It’s like she doesn’t expect anything of me at all… like I’m just made of china, ready to crumble any day now,” she tried to smile at him. “But, then again, I’m spilling my tea for a stranger. Maybe I need bubble wrapping after all.” 

The way he looked at her. Maybe she’d imagined the sympathy? Maybe he was genuinely enjoying her company? 

Had the room gotten brighter? 

“Hey, who’s the one who got weird about a folded pizza?” 

Kat’s cheeks hurt a bit. How much had she been smiling? 

“Calzone,” she said, gently slapping his arm. “But, I guess you’re right. Or maybe we just both suck?” 

“I mean,” Tom said rubbing his shoulder, making his shirt bunch up around his shoulder. “We are here, late at night…alone.” 

Oh, umm. I guess we are…” 

“Oh, shit,” Tom stammered. “I mean we’re two losers… hanging out in gas station on a Friday night.” 

“Right! Big time. Losers.” 

 She had to get pull herself together.  

“Two lame peas in a pod that smells like gasoline.” 

“Exactly,” he said, leaning against the counter. “It has been nice, though. For the record, I’m usually sweeping for the second time about now. I guess you’ll be stuck in a textbook though.” 

“I’m sure I’ll be bored too. It’s too bad we’ll be working opposite shifts.” 

“Yeah… want my number?” He asked, with the same careful tone he’d used to question Sophie. “I mean, so we can text. That way if you get spooked you’ll have someone to talk to.” 

“Or if Lucy job scares you and you need to talk about something that isn’t horror.” Kat said, earnestly smiling and finally out of her own head. 

“Yeah, probably more likely,” Tom pulled out his phone. 

Kat did the same but paused. 

“It’s really going to be okay, isn’t it?” 

Tom nodded, his bright brown eyes like brilliant amber.  

“You’re going to do great.” 

They exchanged their cell numbers and sent hello texts to each other. 

Was it her imagination, or did he seem a little nervous? Or maybe that’s just how she felt when they locked eyes. 

“Okay,” he said after a long pause. “Time for me to show you how I spend my night.” 

“Clean, restock, repeat?” 

“Yeah, I know how to show a girl a good time.”  

He lost confidence about halfway through, but it made her giggle anyway. 

It had been a long time, but was that contentment she felt? 

Previous | Next

---

Want more? Sign up the ARC Directive to get early access to chapters, unlock exclusive horrors, and step deeper into the dark — only on Patreon.