Rem took a few minutes to straighten his stock in preparation for closing. Suddenly, there she was, right in front of him, the girl in the swirly skirt. He waited a couple of minutes, then approached her with a friendly smile. “Looking for something special for tomorrow?”
She didn’t even glance at him. So much for his fatal charm.
“I need a T-shirt for my thirteen-year-old brother,” the girl said, pulling an orange shirt out from the bottom of a pile Rem had just straightened. She glared at the shirt, sneered, then stuffed it back into the wrong display. “Don’t you have, like, anything decent here?”
“Uh, what size does your brother wear?”
“Medium, of course! He’s just thirteen!” she answered, her dark eyes flashing. “Don’t they give you people any training at all?”
Rem told himself to stay calm and professional. Maybe Angel had had a bad day. “What are his interests—sports, computer games, skateboarding?”
The girl looked at him like he was crazy. “What does that matter?”
“Because then I might be able to find something that would work for you.”
She rolled her eyes upward as though trying to locate patience. “He’s into soccer. He lives and breathes soccer.”
“Let’s see what we have.” He walked the girl around to the other side of the cart and presented a shirt for her inspection.
TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW
TO BE CONTINUED
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