"Trying to get fired so I won't have to quit"- Handguns

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I rummage through my kitchen cabinets for tea packets and notice shirtless guy in the same spot on the couch again. That's odd. Effy never brings home the same guy twice.

"Mornin'," Effy sleepily mumbles behind me. "Would you make me a cup too, love?"

"Sure," I say, retrieving another mug. "So your date went well last night?"

She smiles broadly, her face lit up with childlike excitement. "He's so dreamy," she says in a hushed voice.

It's not like he'll hear her anyways. On the TV, Tom slams into a rake trying to catch Jerry and shirtless guy rolls over in laughter.

"Yeah," I say, handing her a steaming mug of tea. "He's really something."

"And how about you?" Effy asks. "How did your night at home go?"

"Actually, I went out."

Her tea-stirring comes to an abrupt stop. "Did you now? With who?"

"A boy," I say, trying to hold a casual tone.

"Is it that boy you met when you came and saw me the other night?" she asks.

"Maybe," I say, pinching wedges of lemon over my mug and avoiding her eyes.

She squeals and hops up and down, her stumpy ponytail swinging in all directions.

"I'm so happy for you, Jules! He's quite fit."

"He's just a friend," I say calmly. "That's all."

She smirks. "You say that now."

I roll my eyes and take a seat on the unoccupied sofa. Effy curls up beside shirtless guy and fluffs up his already-poofy hair.

"Good morning, darling," she coos.

"Mornin', babe," he says with a peck on her forehead.

"This is my friend, Jules" she says, looking my way. "Jules, this is Ansel."

"Pleasure," we both say, shaking hands.

Ansel turns back to Effy. "How did you sleep last night?" he asks.

"Very well, after that marvelous love-making," she giggles.

"Aaaand I'm done," I say as I get up and bolt out of the room as fast as I can.

I escape to my own room and shut the door behind me, shuddering at that gag-inducing conversation. Since I don't have class, today's work shift is long and starts in about an hour. I take another sip of tea before placing it on my desk.

I turn on my record player. Handguns' Angst album feels like a suitable soundtrack to get ready to so I gently place the needle on the fifth song and start to change.

"Trying to get fired so I won't have to quit. Don't wanna spend my nights working the graveyard shift," I zealously sing along while I button up my shirt. "I'm so sick and tired, yeah, I'm over it! I'm calling this early retirement."

I'm too busy obnoxiously singing to realize my phone is ringing until it vibrates off the edge of my desk. I turn down the volume on my record player and pick up the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jules," a deep and rugged voice answers.

"Harry? What's up?"

"What do you say you go to the beach with me?"

"The beach?" I say, perplexed. "It's October."

"Which means it's empty and we'll get the whole place to ourselves!" he cheerfully says. I can practically hear his adorable dimpled smile through the phone.

"Harry..."

"We don't have to go in the water."

"No, Harry. I have to work today. Like, in an hour."

"But it's the weekend," he argues.

"Maybe it's your weekend, but my weekends are Fridays. I work or study the rest of the days."

"Call in sick," he says.

"What? I can't call in sick. I'm not sick."

He lets out an exaggerated groan. "What will we do with you, Jules?"

I'm a little annoyed at this point, although I'm not sure why. I don't have anything to prove to this boy, but the words escape from my mouth before I realize what I'm saying.

"Fine, I'll call in sick. But if you're not here in half an hour I'm going to work."

"Got it," he says, before quickly hanging up.

I've never called in sick before. Even when I am sick, I never miss a day of work or school.

My thumb hovers over my boss' phone number as I think of an illness to fake. Food poisoning? Flu? No I've got it. I go with the generic, good old, common cold. Luckily he's not at his desk (probably too busy chewing out my coworkers) so I leave him a brief message, complete with coughs and sniffles that I hope sound believable.

Now that the hard part is over, I move on to the next task: finding an outfit for the beach. I glance out the window for ideas. This boy is crazy, demanding we go to the beach when it looks like a storm is brewing overhead. It's too late to duck out of this one, so I twist up the volume knob and finish getting ready.

"It's gonna be a long October, and I don't have reason to believe," I nod along, singing. "In much of anythiiiing."

I change into sufficient layers, keep my makeup simple in case it does rain, and rake my long hair into a side braid.

"Jules, your sweetheart is here to see you!" Effy yells as she rapidly knocks on my door.

I swing open the door with a scowl. "He's not my sweetheart," I say.

"Wait, don't you have work today?" she asks while following me down the hall.

I shrug. "I'm sick."

Effy's eyes grow wide with delight and she has a grin to match. "Yes! You're finally living a little!" she cheers.

I chuckle. "Bye, Effy. Nice meeting you, Ansel."

I shut the door as I leave and see Harry waiting patiently. He runs a hand through his chestnut curls and gently smiles.

"Hi," he says.

"Hello," I respond, silently hoping he didn't hear the conversation inside.

"I'm glad to see you haven't gone to work," he says.

"Me too, Harry," I happily sigh. "Me too."

Notes