It’s About Love

I sit up and shake my head. “Can we just go?”

As we drive down the hill, we pass Leia, umbrella under her arm as she talks on her phone. I turn away from the window.

“So come on then?” Tommy lights a cigarette as we pull up at the island behind a black BMW.

“It’s fine,” I say.

“Fine? It better be more than just fine, Luke. It took me nearly half an hour, man. What bus you get?”

I crack open my window. “The 87 and the 50.”

“Two buses? Shit, they better be teaching you some important stuff.” Tommy whacks my thigh. “Girls though, yeah?”

And I picture Leia, her fingers pointing at me like a gun. “Dunno. Not really noticed.”

“Yeah, right, dark horse Luke Henry? Them posh girls love a bit of rough, eh? Just don’t forget to sort me out once you’re plugged in, yeah?” He raises his finger like a politician. “Share and share alike, Lukey.”

“You look like your old man, Thomas.”

“Like you don’t?” He takes a long drag and looks down at himself. “Some of us have to work in the real world, mate. We can’t all be nerds.”

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INT. CAR – DAY

Close-up of TOMMY’s mouth as he pulls on a cigarette. YOUNG MAN next to him and scenery outside blurry in the background.

Tommy turns the engine off and the pair of us sit, staring up at the back of the supermarket. Next to the fire door, a row of industrial-sized bins are lined up and there’s a greyness in the air that I don’t want to say is just this side of town. You just said it. Whatever it is, it feels familiar and I can feel my body starting to relax.

“What did Zia say?” I ask.

Tommy flicks his cigarette out the window. “To wait out back and he’d dip out. What time is it?”

I look at my phone. “Half four. You should get one of them air fresheners, man, them little trees.”

“What you saying? You saying my car stinks?”

“Like an ashtray.”

“You wanna walk?”

My phone beeps. It’s a text from Dad.

How wis fist wk big man? Dodx

I picture him lying on his back under some battered old car, taking ten minutes to type the message, his thick thumb hitting four buttons at once.

Good thanks. See you tomorrow

Tommy tuts. “Where is he, man?”

I look up at the concrete building. “He’s probably being watched. What did he say the manager guy’s name was again?”

“Dunno. I’m starving though.”

Then the fire door pops open and Zia pokes his head out, like a meerkat sentry. He looks both ways, then nods at us. He’s shaved his beard back to rough stubble and he’s wearing a hair net. Tommy laughs. “He looks like my mum after a shower.”

“Yeah, ’cept your mum’s beard’s thicker.”

He tries to dig my thigh, but I grab his fist and squeeze.

“All right, all right, get off, Luke!”

I hold him a second longer, then let him go and open my door.

“Yes, boys!” whispers Zia. The whites of his eyes sparkle next to his skin. Fists bump, then he says, “Wait here,” and he’s gone. The fire door clicks closed and me and Tommy are standing with our backs against the wall.

Tommy points up at the security camera facing the car park. I nod. The door opens again and Zia hands me a small, torn cardboard box. I can see Babybels, a ripped pack of Jammy Dodgers and a can of Relentless. I look at Zia.

“What’s this?”

Zia frowns. “Dinner.”

Tommy looks into the box. “Dinner for who? A crack head?”

“If you don’t want it, don’t eat it, man. I have to be careful what I take, don’t I? We have to put the damaged stock out the back and if I tear expensive stuff, Pete the Prick flips out.”

Tommy takes out a Babybel. “Couldn’t you just get some crisps or something?”

Zia pulls the box back out of my hands. “Look, if you wanna give orders, go Chicken Cottage, yeah? I’m not a waiter. You want this or not?”

I put my hands on the box. “Course we do. Thanks, man. What time you finish?”

Zia lets go of the box and sighs. “Ten. We gotta stack up the shelves for the staff working tomorrow.” He scratches his velcro stubble. Tommy pulls open a Babybel and the three of us just stand there. One supermarket employee, one builder’s apprentice and me. A year ago we’d all be in school uniform.

Zia clicks his fingers. “Yo, check this out. I thought up a new bit. Upgrades, yeah? Like with phones, but for your friends and family.”

Tommy looks at me and rolls his eyes. Zia carries on. “So I’d be like, OK, I’ve got the standard Tommy friend, yeah? But I wanna upgrade, cos the new one has got better features and that, like he never asks to borrow money, and he doesn’t say dumb stuff and get us into trouble.”

Tommy pushes Zia. “Shut up, man. Why am I the one who gets upgraded? You say dumb stuff all the time.”

I smile. “That’s not bad, man. You think that up today?”

Zia nods. “Nothing else to do while I’m stacking sugar.”

“Yeah, well I’ve heard it somewhere before,” says Tommy.

Zia frowns. “Shut up, that’s mine. It needs work, but it could be good.”