Chapter 4
“Nah. This week I’m off Wednesday and Thursday. Don’t you know we Budweiser delivery truck drivers work while the world plays and vice versa?” Jake lays back and shields his eyes from the sun with a forearm. Gregory notices the tattooed band of stars that circle his forearm, almost hiding, but not concealing the muscles that, even there, tighten and bunch.
Gregory smiles and lies back, too, closing his eyes against the sun’s relentless glare. “And teachers don’t lift a finger all summer long.” He pauses. “It’s common knowledge we get paid too much.” He laughs, and then feels self-conscious because Jake doesn’t join him. Maybe his salary, meager as it is, is more than Jake makes.