Drain You Read Online Free

the front lawn and listened to my Discman, waiting for Morgan and his budget Dodge Shadow. I tried to draw some band logos on the sides of my sneakers. I wrote “MADE YOU LOOK” on the back of my left hand in purple marker. On my right ankle I drew a fake rose tattoo, then licked my finger and tried to rub it off just as I noticed Morgan pulling to a stop in front of my house.
    “You can’t wear that to work,” he said as I jumped into the front seat next to him.
    I gave him a fake frown.
    “And don’t pretend to listen to music,” he said, pulling my headphones off my ears.
    “Morgan, I’ll do anything you want if you just…chill.”
    “Really? Okay, then tell me everything that happened the other night with Naomi.”
    I slipped down in the seat and picked at my nails, imitating boredom. “Done, dude. Nothing to tell. She kind of spazzed out on me for a minute and then walked home.” I shrugged.
    “Right.” He paused. “And there’s one more thing,” Morgan said, glancing over at me, “that I want you to do.”
    I squinted at the sun, bracing myself. “What?”
    “Will you just please wear a name tag?”
    “Sure. Anything you want.” I turned away and watched as the palm trees, dry brush, and scattered mailboxes became the video store parking lot, too quickly.
     
    We’d been watching What’s Eating Gilbert Grape for what felt like two and a half hours when it finally struck me to ask, “Where…is…everybody?” I swept my arm from left to right and back again across the store,illustrating the total absence of customers, of kids, of anybody. “It’s Friday night. I’m, like, beyond confused at the lack of interest in our entertainment emporium.”
    Morgan was eating Apple Jacks out of the box, numbly, and it all reeked of bad work ethic.
    “Um, Earth to Morgan Crandall.” I tapped the back of his head. “Aliens have landed, taken over the bodies of our customers, directed those bodies to who knows what Blockbusters in the city, and left us here to die of boredom.”
    “I’m not bored,” he said. “Maybe everyone driving by saw your outfit through the window and figured we were closed for an employee beach trip.” Though he’d landed a zinger, Morgan didn’t gloat. He stayed glued to the TV screen.
    “Ha. Ha,” I said.
    I slumped down to the floor and stared at the untouched racks of new releases. It was only halfway into our shift, but I already felt an overwhelming sense of déjà vu starting to wash over me. That sense that one day soon I’d have to give up and give in to the current, to the Morgan-and-me undertow. I mean, he wasn’t without certain…attributes. But he was shameless, and he’d spent the better part of the night trying to position himself at eye level with my bikini top.
    It must have been another two hours of Gilbertdragging his feet before the store’s doorbell finally rang. Usually on weekend nights I had to hole up in the break room for half my shift in order to avoid every high school weirdo, eighth-grade crush, and ex-best friend in Topanga Canyon. But the visitor was Libby, so I ran to greet her with the glee of an unleashed pug.
    “Quinn, this is a really strong look for you,” Libby said. She pulled on one of my bikini strings. “You’re wearing a name tag on a bathing suit. Crandall must’ve wigged out.”
    “You are both just so scared of fashion.”
    “Whatever. He loves it. He’s kind of a blond Depp, you know?” Her eyes went from the TV to Morgan and back to the actor on the screen. “Just date him already, he’d die from happiness.”
    “Yeah, brilliant idea, Libby.”
    Libbits Block had been my closest friend since the fourth grade, when she invited me to watch her dad’s famous rock band play from the backstage wings at the Palladium. We ran around the greenroom stealing all the Cranberry Juice Cocktail the band had requested on their rider and then chugged until our lips were swollen and ringed with red. At midnight, once the