“Just work the register,” said Kiko as he mopped up a puddle of orange dye. It was as if Chad had never dyed eggs in his life; the entire table was a mess and at least one child was crying.
Kiko had been so hopeful today would be better than the last. Egg-O-Lantern dyeing was generally low-key, with a decent if unimpressive turnout. He normally put in Sunday hours alone, but he needed another person when he held activities like this, and Chad had said he wanted the hours. He was feeling the pinch of being perpetually broke now that he was in college.
“Yeah, whatever,” muttered Chad as he moved off to the register. Kiko straightened the two cups Chad had knocked over and moved to refill them with orange dye. The child who had been crying calmed down after his mother coxed him to scribble
