I cock my head and wait for her to continue. "We've tried. Sara tried to sit her down and talk sense into her, but she just left. She's never around and her phone's constantly off." She shrugs before she walks over to the sales girl to ask her about tuxes.
Jessica: "Phase two tomorrow should push her over the edge, Spence." She tells me evenly before she takes the dress in her hands and heads over to the dressing rooms. Once she disappears behind the curtain, Sara and Kelly finally show themselves.
Sara: "Aw, Spence, that dress is perfect!" She squeals as she clasps her hands together in excitement. I take in her ruffled attire and tousled hair. "We may have to hem it a little, but that's the one!" Great, I always wanted to be a whore bridesmaid.
It is after eleven when we get back to Marshall Daniel's; Ashley driving home separately in her car with Gage, while Jess drove Gage's jeep. Ashley was only allowed to take her car as long as someone was with her; I still wanted her babysat just in case.
Once we park I hop out of the car to try and find Ashley; at the very least to see how she looks. I was worried when she left the store, she seemed really upset. But she's nowhere to be found. Gage meets up with us and shrugs when I ask her where Ashley is.
Gage: "She took off in a hurry." She tells me, frowning. I'm about to start canvassing the campus in search for her when my cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I remove it to see that I have a text from an unknown number. It reads:
Carlin, get your ass to the tool shed, we've got work to do.
And it's from Janitor freaking Amie!
It's freaking eleven-thirty at night! And how the hell did she get my freaking number?!
Spencer: "Hey guys, I'll meet you in the room later, I have to take care of something." They all shoot me curious looks but I turn and leave before the questions can start. I haven't told any of them that I'm working with Janitor Amie for several reasons. One, none of them would understand the manual labor thing. Secondly, they really don't mind treating me and wouldn't get that I want to start having money of my own. And lastly, they're all pretty terrified of Janitor Amie and would advice me against spending so much time with the woman.
But I like Janitor Amie. The five hours I spent working side by side with her today had been relaxing. We barely spoke, but went about our work in perfect harmony. Occasionally she would grunt that I was doing a good job and I could tell she was doing it more to be nice then to actually inform me that my skills at picking up trash is exceptional.
Spencer: "What's up, Janitor Amie?" I ask as I stroll up to the tool shed. She retracts her head from inside it to turn to look at me.
Janitor Amie: "We need to head up to the school's roof." She explains and I gulp as she hands me some cleaning supplies and then wordlessly starts the journey. Just between you and me, heights aren't really my thing.
Once we're up there I understand why we're needed. There are countless cigarette butts, papers, and empty bottles of different types of alcohol strewed about the flat surface. Janitor Amie goes right to work; I however, gulp again and try to steady my breathing as I begin to collect the trash near the entrance of the roof.
Fifteen minutes later, though, I realize that I'll have to venture out away from the door over to the ledge to continue cleaning. And despite the fact that I'm petrified, I can't help but appreciate the view. The roof overlooks the rugby field, where our P.E.
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