The tomato splattered across my face—ow. Maybe it was an omen.

It didn’t hurt much, but it was slimy and gross. Wiping off the goo, I spotted the culprit: a little kid, about six years old. His mom seemed oblivious, busy inspecting the squash and talking on her cellphone: “I know! I can’t believe it...”

I stopped stacking boxes of dates and wiped my face on my apron, getting tomato gunk on the store logo with the dopey winking apple. I guess winking meant that the apple was “fresh,” as in fresh produce.

That’s when I saw Sumaya.

Oh, great. Not only did I get whacked with a tomato, but of course it had to happen right in front of the girl I’d had a major crush on since freshman year. What was she doing in a supermarket? She was too perfect to shop like ordinary mortals. I considered fleeing, but she had already spotted me.

I swallowed. “Hey, Sumaya.”

“Bader. Oh, hey.”

I could see her notice my store apron. As if I wasn’t already embarrassed enough about spending the summer working at the supermarket! Especially since everybody else I knew seemed to be involved in some kind of fancy summer program that would enrich their characters and look great on their college applications. Arjun was at some musical prodigy camp. Faisal was doing something in a government office, which made him even more annoying. Nawaf was probably home playing videogames but he didn’t count. What was I going to put on my college application? The important life lessons I learned stacking dates?

She squinted. “What’s that on your face?”

I had missed some tomato. At least now I wouldn't have to worry about college or my future because I was going to die of embarrassment any second. I rapidly dabbed at my face with a corner of my apron.

“Oh, nothing. I’m working here as part of an internship. With the parent company. In the finance division. Mergers and stuff. But they want everybody to understand the business from the ground up. Like, get our hands dirty.”

“An internship.” She nodded slowly. “Sounds great.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty intense. Kind of high-level.” Her basket was full of carrots and cucumbers. “That looks pretty healthy.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess. I mean, it seems like everybody always brings junk food to parties. You know? I thought I’d bring something different.”

“You’re going to a party?”

“Yeah, at Yasmin’s. You didn't hear about it?”

“I probably forgot.”

“You should come!” She flashed me that same smile that killed me back in ninth grade. It was a smile that seemed to say, “You’re special. Come to this party so we can hang out and get to know each other better.” Okay, maybe I was reading kind of a lot into it. But that’s what it seemed to be saying.

The PA system boomed. It was garbled like always, but I made out my name. “Bader, report to managerial. Bader to managerial.”

“Probably another merger,” I explained. “Maybe I’ll see you at the party!”

“Cool!” She gave me that smile again. Excited, I headed for Khaled’s “office,” which in reality was just a metal desk by the loading dock.

Khaled was only a few years older than me but he took his job very seriously. He was frowning over a clipboard, and I recognized the weekly shift schedule. He had scribbled on it in red marker. “Ramzi just called in sick. I’m going to need you to stay late.”

My stomach dropped. “I have a date,” I explained. This might not have been precisely accurate from a strictly technical standpoint, but whatever.

Khaled sighed. “Bader. What am I always telling you?”

I thought for a moment. “Turn the cans so the expiration dates don’t show?”

Khaled continued patiently. “Sometimes we have to make sacrifices in the present, for the sake of… what?”

“The future,” I said glumly.

“That’s right. I want you to have a future that you can be proud of. I believe in your ability to get there. But right now, I need you to step up. Can you do that?”

Of course I caved, because me. Then I realized I didn’t have Sumaya’s number, and we weren’t even friends on Facebook. I ducked outside and called Nawaf. “Dude, what?” was how he answered. I could barely hear him over the explosions and sound effects.

I ran down the situation, and begged him to go to the party and tell Sumaya that I was running late so she wouldn't think I stood her up. Nawaf was mad because he had finally leveled up to 16 playing Sonic Destroyer and didn’t want to stop. Also he hated parties and people in general. But he finally grunted, which usually meant “yes.”

Later, after we finished mopping, taking out the trash, restocking and clearing the dock for early load-in, I tossed my apron and ran home as fast as I could. I took a quick shower and waited forever for the bus since naturally my brother wouldn't take me in his car even though it was just sitting there. When I finally got to the party, it was almost 11:00 pm.

One of the first people I saw was Ramzi, drinking from a red plastic cup. I blinked. “I thought you were sick,” I said.

“Nah, I just didn’t feel like working closing shift.”

Then I saw Nawaf, and rushed over to him. “Did you tell her?” I asked him.

“Sumaya?” he replied. “She didn’t seem to know what I was talking about. There she is.”

I turned back around to see Sumaya getting into a car with Faisal. He climbed into the driver’s seat and they drove away. “It’s hard to keep a white car clean,” Nawaf remarked helpfully. I decided that I too hated parties and people.

“Nawaf,” I said. “Do you think much about the future?”

“The what?” Nawaf said.

I couldn't argue.