Excerpt from Gemma

VERY IMPORTANT: This book is not appropriate for anyone under the age of 15.

"I got you a job," he says.

"A job?" I keep my voice causal, keep the eagerness out, just in case I heard him wrong. Could be his idea of a joke or somethin.

"You got me a job?" I say, and I'm sorta nervous, but, to be honest, this is kinda excitin too. I wouldn't mind a job, make a little money. The kids at school would be jealous. Don't know anybody my age that's got a job. Usually you gotta be fifteen, sixteen.  Which is kinda a dumb rule, cause I'm a real hard worker. Shouldn't matter the age, they'd get their money's worth outta me.

"Yeah..." he says. " I got you a job." He looks at me. "And you'll want to do well at this job, right?"

And I say, "Yeah. Yeah!" I smile big so he'll know I mean it. Don't know why he's bein so nice all of a sudden. But a job would be cool. Really cool.

"Don't want to mess up, right? He says, and I shake my head so he'll know I'm sincere, he keeps talkin.  "Cause if you mess up, I'm gonna be real pissed. And you don't want to get me pissed,

isn't that right?"

"Uh... huh..." And I nod my head. I don't know why, but my heart's poundin and my mouth is real dry. I mean, I'm glad to have a job, but I'm kind of scared, too.  Buddy's not much fun when you mess up. "What ... what do I gotta do?" I ask.

But he doesn't answer me. Not really, just laughs, not a nice laugh, not a friendly one, and says, "Sugar, you just do what you do best." And he's still laughin about that one as he jerks the steerin wheel hard, cross two lanes of traffic, and there we are, pullin into a Denny's parkin lot. And I think, "Oh, Denny's, maybe I'm gonna get to be a waitress."

I'd like that. That would be nice.  Maybe I'd get a uniform and everything!

* * *

Hazen is sitting in Denny's restaurant. Got himself a booth in the corner, back against the wall, good vantage point of the door.  Hands sweaty, the dregs of his coffee gone cold, got that tie-die thing going with the sugar, the cream. He swirls it slowly, both hands wrapped

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