“Yeah.”
“That must be fun.”
“It was,” I winced.
“Was?” His brows knit. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story,” I groaned.
“It sounds to me like you’re in dire straits.”
“That’s an understatement,” I rolled my eyes. It was all pouring out now and I couldn’t stop myself. I blamed it on Nikolos’ sympathetic ear. Stupid ears. I’d vowed to deal with this myself and not put it on someone else.
“Have you ever considered looking for work in an art studio?”
“Oh,” I sighed, “I’ve totally looked for art jobs. Besides the museum, which was just being a cashier, there are none. No one hires artists that I could find.”
“I would.”
I frowned. “Huh?”
“I could use an assistant in my studio. Mixing paint by hand takes forever. Same with stretching canvases and building frames. It’s all time consuming work. It would be nice to have someone do it for me while I oversaw the process. Someone I can train, and someone I can trust.”
I gave him a funny look. “Like who?”
“Like you,” he smiled.
I shook my head, “Oh, I couldn’t do that.”
“I thought you said you needed to find a job. I’m hiring.”
“I can’t take your money, Mr. Manos.”
“Call me Nikolos.”
“You’re my boyfriend’s dad,” I scoffed, “I can’t call you by your first name.”
“Sure you can. And if you work for me, it’ll be part of the job requirement.”
A spark of hope twinkled in my chest. I really did need a job. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious.”
My mouth gaped open. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you always works,” he grinned.
“Thank you, Mr. Manos!” I leaned over the table and hugged him, almost knocking over his lemonade glass.
He caught it and smiled, “Careful!”
“Thank you so much!” I sat back down. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”
He smiled. “Aren’t you going to ask what it pays?”
“Oh! Yeah, duh.”
“How much is your tuition payment?” he asked.
“What? No, I couldn’t.” I shook my head vigorously.
“How much?” he insisted.
I sighed. “It’s over five thousand.”
“How about I make your payment for you, and you can work it off.”
“I could never do that!”
“Why not?”
“I can’t take your money,” I pleaded.
“Who said anything about taking? You’re going to work it off. There’s always things to do around the studio, believe me. You’re going to become an expert at cleaning brushes.”
“I don’t know,” I said hesitantly.
“Look, Samantha. Artists have apprentices. Apprentices do all the grunt work while watching the artist work. Not only will you get paid, you’ll be learning something. It’s one of those work study jobs. Because seriously, how much were you learning about art by ringing up people at the cash register at the museum?”
He had a point.
“Let’s say I pay you twenty an hour. You can work off the five thousand that way. It won’t take too long, I’m sure.”
“How many hours do you want me to work a week?”
“As many as you want.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
I did the numbers in my head. If I worked part time, say twenty hours a week, it would only take about three months to cover my tuition bill. Oh wait. That only covered the one past due. I’d figure out the third one due a month from now later.
“Do we have a deal?” he asked, holding his hand across the table.
I shook it. “Yes!”
What a pleasant surprise!
Now all I had to worry about was getting expelled from SDU for attacking Tiffany and stealing her credit card.
Screw Tiffany!
I had a job!
Chapter 21
SAMANTHA
“I had a new idea for our comic strip,” Romeo said as we walked across campus toward the Student Center and The Wombat staff meeting at Toasted Roast. Although the weather had become quite warm for early spring, Romeo wore his elaborate burgundy steampunk coat with the black cuffs and collar, and his pointy, silver tipped black leather shoes. His monocle dangled in rhythm with his stride.
“What was your idea?” I asked.
“Tampon Tammy! She shoots giant tampons from her stinky skunk trunk while fighting the forces of evil.”
“You don’t mean Tammy Lemons, that bitchy girl at the last staff meeting? The one with the hipster glasses?”
“I totally mean her,” Romeo said conspiratorially.
“Oh, Romeo, we can’t do that. She’ll hate us more than she already does.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he sighed. “But if she’s a bitch today at the meeting, I’m totally going to propose the idea to everyone.”
“Please don’t,” I begged.
“Please don’t what?” Justin Tomlinson said, falling into step with us.
“Hey, Justin,” I smiled nervously. I hoped he hadn’t heard Romeo’s idea.
“I was just telling Sam—” Romeo blurted.
I cut him off, “How much fun we’ve been having working on ideas for The Wombat.”
Justin frowned, “How does that follow from ‘Please don’t’?”
“Uhhh…” I stammered.
“Please don’t tell Justin how awesome he is for letting us sit in with you guys,” Romeo said, saving me.
Justin smiled and nodded as we walked down the stairs running beside the stepped fountain that led down to the Student Center quad. “Thanks. You guys are both pretty awesome yourselves. Most everybody loves what you guys are coming up with.”
“Most everybody?” Romeo asked.
I shot Romeo a “shut the fuck up” glare. I knew he was thinking of Tammy.
“Well, I just meant that…” Justin sounded put on the spot.
“We know what you meant,” I smiled.
The three of us walked up to the two tables already occupied by Keith, Micah, Alyssa, and Tammy.
“Hey guys,” Justin said, lowering his book bag onto the table top as we all sat down.
“Well, if it isn’t Romiet and Julio,” Tammy Lemons sniveled.
Great. Maybe Romeo had been right. Was Tammy saying I was mannish by calling me Julio?
Romeo arched an eyebrow at me, then turned to Justin, “Justin, I have a great idea for a new comic strip. Want to hear about it?”
Gulp.
“Let’s hear it,” Keith smiled.
“Well,” Romeo smiled a Cheshire grin, “it’s about OW!!”
I had kicked Romeo’s shin under the table.
“Ow?” Micah asked. “What’s that?”
“Owl! I meant Owl!” Romeo said.
“An owl?” Alyssa asked doubtfully.
“Yes!” Romeo yelled. “It’s, uh, about Obie, the OB/GYN Owl! He’s a real hoot for the coot!”
“Hoot for the coot?” Micah snickered.
“And instead of figuring out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, he figures out how many licks it takes to make Tootsie, as played by Dustin Hoffman in the movie of the same name, get off! Get it? Tootsie Pop?”
“Dude, how high are you?” underbeard Keith asked with an amazed grin on his face.
“I want to smoke whatever he’s been smoking,” emo Micah smiled.
“I have to admit,” Justin grinned at Romeo, “it has potential.”
“Potential to suck,” Tammy sneered.
Wow, Tammy was sourballs.
“I have another idea,” Romeo said, glaring at Tammy.
“Let’s hear it,” Micah said.
“It’s called Tah—HEY!”
I had kicked him under the table again.
“Tah-HEY?” Keith asked. “I can’t wait to hear where he goes with this one.”