Gumdrop Angel (Five Nights at Freddy's Read online

  Angel couldn’t explain why, but she waited in the chair for at least a minute. Then, concerned that she was abdicating her entire sense of an independent self, Angel started to stand. Why had she let the guy drag her out here in the first place?

  The cute employee reappeared. He was carrying several paper towels and a spray bottle of what looked like water. He sat down on the seat next to hers.

  Wow, he was cute! Just a little taller than Angel, the guy was broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped, and clearly fit. With dark hair and dark eyes and strong features, he had the kind of looks that pretty much any girl with eyes would find attractive.

  “I’m Dominic,” the cute guy said. He had a wonderful voice, deep and resonant.

  Angel involuntarily lowered herself back into the chair. “Angel,” she said.

  “Yes, you are.”

  Angel rolled her eyes.

  Dominic grinned. “You’ve heard that one before. Of course you have.”

  Angel smiled. She couldn’t help it. He was irresistible. “But you made it sound better than anyone else has.”

  Dominic laughed. “Now, there’s a good line. I should take lessons from you.”

  Angel laughed. “No, that’s a terrible idea. I just sort of blurt out whatever I’m thinking. That’s not always the best thing.”

  “I disagree. Honesty is highly underrated.”

  A group of giggling little girls burst out of the dining room, ran down the hallway, and poured into the ladies’ room like a swarm of frilly pink-clad bees. Angel was glad now she wasn’t in the ladies’ room.

  She turned back to Dominic and figured she might as well see where this encounter went. “Thank you for saving me.”

  “Did I? I was just doing my job. I’m an assistant manager here, and one of my duties is to make sure the customers are happy. I saw a pretty girl smeared with pizza sauce, and I figured she’d be happier if it was cleaned up.” He raised the spray bottle and the paper towels.

  Dominic reached out and touched Angel’s pizza-sauce-crusted hair. “Not that you don’t totally rock this Italian-food-in-the-hair look.”

  Angel laughed.

  Dominic leaned toward her.

  Angel held her breath.

  “Do you mind?” Dominic said. “I don’t think pizza sauce is a good conditioner, and as a hair color, well, this particular shade of red doesn’t match the rest of your hair.”

  Angel said nothing. She was trying to remember what she last ate. She hadn’t eaten any of the pizza her mom and Myron ordered. But she did have some chocolate candy. Well, that shouldn’t have given her bad breath.

  Dominic was dabbing at her hair and the skin of her jaw and neck with paper towels he’d sprayed with whatever was in the plastic bottle. Whatever it was smelled flowery, and it was warm. It felt soothing against the skin of her jaw and her ear, and he was being so gentle.

  Who was this guy? It seemed like he came from an entirely different planet than the guys at her school. They were oafs by comparison. None of the guys she knew at her school would know how to clean pizza sauce out of hair.

  “Okay. That’s better,” Dominic said. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Then he looked down at her jeans. He held out more wet towels. “Think you can handle the rest? I don’t want to be disrespectful.”

  Angel laughed and took the towels. “I appreciate that.” She worked at the stain on her jeans. The deep red faded a little but didn’t disappear. She hoped it would come out in the wash.

  “So, I assume you’re here with your family?” Dominic said, once Angel was cleaned up.

  “Yeah. Sort of. My stepsister is the birthday girl.”

  “Ah. So, I did save you. Does she make you clean the fireplace and scrub the floor, too, Cinderella?”

  “She would if she was old enough to care about that stuff. For now, her daddy, my stepdad, is the one on my case.”

  “Ah. Yeah, that can suck.”

  “Yes, it can.”

  “I haven’t seen you before. What school do you go to?”

  “I’m graduating from Merrimount in a month. You?”

  “Same … graduating in a month. But from Graves Academy.”

  “Ooh. Snazzy.” Graves Academy was a private school for brainiacs. Angel was impressed in spite of herself.

  “Yeah, right?” Dominic gestured at his Freddy’s vest and name tag. “I know I make this Freddy’s thing look good, but you should see me in my school uniform. It would knock your socks off.”

  Angel looked down at her sandal-clad feet. So did Dominic.

  “See?” Dominic said. “Even thinking about me in my uniform knocked your socks off.”

  Angel laughed even as she groaned.

  Dominic smiled. “So, how did you end up wearing our pizza instead of eating it? Please tell me a server didn’t get this sloppy.”

  “No. Not a server. Ophelia.”

  Dominic raised an eyebrow. “Hamlet’s hapless lover?”

  “Yeah, right. See? I was just thinking about that. Why would you name a child Ophelia?”

  “I guess it’s a pretty name, but it has some heavy connotations. And Ophelia is … ?”

  “My stepsister.”

  “Ah, the wicked stepsister. ‘Out, out damned spot.’ ”

  Angel laughed. “I think you’re suffering from Shakespearean confusion.”

  “ ‘Something wicked this way comes,’ ” Dominic said.

  Angel laughed harder. “Better sentiment, but you’re still in the wrong play.”

  “Ah well. ‘This above all, to thine own self be true.’ ”

  “Ding. Ding. Ding. Give the man a prize,” Angel said. “He made his way back to Hamlet.”

  They both laughed, and then they both spoke at once. Angel said, “Thank you for …” just as Dominic said, “Listen, how about … ?”

  They both stopped and grinned.

  Before either could finish a sentence, a woman’s voice called out, “Dominic.”

  Angel and Dominic turned toward the voice.

  Another Freddy’s employee, a thirtysomething woman, stood just outside the dining room. “There you are,” she said.

  The woman was tall and athletic-looking, with brown hair caught up in a ponytail. She wore a Freddy’s uniform, and she looked perfectly calm in spite of the chaos swirling around her.

  Dominic stood. “Hey, Nancy. I’m coming.”

  “Meet me in the kitchen,” Nancy said.

  Dominic turned and held out his hand. Angel took it. She was happy to have the chance to hold his hand again.

  “I’m sorry to abandon you to all this”—he waved his arms out—“and your evil stepsister, too, but duty calls.”

  “No problem.”

  He smiled at her. “Before my boss so rudely interrupted, I was about to ask if you might like to go out tomorrow night. There’s an indie band playing at the Rocket House. Would you be game?”

  “Sure, I’d like that.”

  “Great. If you give me your number, I can pick you up. If you don’t want to give me your number, you could meet me there.”

  Angel rattled off her home phone number.

  Dominic laughed. “Okay, then.” He repeated the number back to her, and she nodded.

  “You won’t forget it?” she asked when he didn’t write it down. She wanted to kick herself because she sounded like a nag.

  He didn’t seem to mind. “I have a great memory. I won’t forget it. Or you.”

  Angel blushed.

  Dominic reached into the pocket of his uniform vest. “And here. Here’s my Freddy’s card. You can always call me.”

  Angel took the card and stuck it in her jeans pocket.

  “But you won’t have to call me,” Dominic said. “I’ll beat you to it. I’m going to be working here late tonight. Lots of cleanup to do and then prep for another party tomorrow. I’ll call you later this evening to set up the time,” Dominic said.

  Angel nodded.

  “Are you heading back in?” D
ominic asked her.

  She shrugged, then nodded. “I guess I have to.”

  Dominic laughed and offered his arm. “Then may I escort you to the pandemonium, milady?”

  Angel laughed and took his arm. “You may, Prince Charming.”

  Dominic chuckled and led her back into the dining room. He squeezed her hand briefly before letting her go in the doorway. “Until later,” he said.

  She nodded.

  * * *

  “Where have you been?” Myron demanded when Angel got back to her family’s table.

  The band was getting ready for a sing-along.

  Angel glared at him. “I had to go clean up the pizza sauce your klutzy daughter decided to smear all over me.”

  Angel’s mom leaned in. “The snarky attitude isn’t necessary. Ophelia is only five years old, Angel.”

  “Yeah, I know. And yet, she’s the head of the household. How does that make sense?”

  Myron shook his head.

  The sing-along started, and Angel noticed Dominic, who was now singing, too, moving gracefully from table to table. His voice could be heard above the din of all the kids’ voices. He had a really nice voice!

  As she watched him singing with a trio of rambunctious boys, Angel wondered if Dominic wanted to be a performer. That was what she was going to be. Angel was going to be an actress, singer, and dancer. She was equally talented at all three. Truly. All the teachers in the drama and music department at her high school had told her she was talented enough to make it in the entertainment industry. They were the ones who’d encouraged her to apply to the performing arts school. She probably wouldn’t have had the confidence to do it without their urging.

  “Audiences are just going to eat you up, Angel,” her favorite drama teacher had said when she’d given Angel the application. “You’re going to be special, unlike any other.”

  When she’d applied to school, Angel had no idea how she was going to pay for it because Myron said he wasn’t paying for “some art school that can’t prepare you for the real world.” She was thrilled that she qualified for loans.

  Angel watched Dominic dance a sort of modified rumba with a few little kids. Their faces shined with joy. It was strange—earlier today this same scene would’ve had Angel rolling her eyes, but watching how good Dominic was with the kids … it made her see this place in a whole different light.

  Her mother poked Angel’s arm. “Why aren’t you singing? You love to sing.”

  Angel shrugged. Her mom had a point. Why not sing?

  So she sang.

  “Not so loud,” her mother said immediately.

  Angel stopped singing and crossed her arms. She tried to return to Dominic watching, but a group of kids were now dancing on chairs, and they blocked her line of sight.

  Another eternity later, the singing stopped and finally the announcer made a big production of bringing Ophelia up on the stage to blow out candles on the gargantuan cake. Of course, Ophelia couldn’t even manage her five candles. The animatronics helped her. Angel vaguely wondered how that worked. They must have had little blowers in their mouths.

  After Ophelia received claps, whistles, and a standing ovation for blowing out two of her five candles, servers began cutting and passing out cake while the animatronics continued performing. Angel slouched in her chair watching the animatronics dance. She wished she could re-choreograph their routine.

  As soon as the cake had been doled out, microphone feedback pierced through the commotion, and the announcer called out, “And now for the grand finale of today’s festivities. May we have the birthday girl back onstage, please?”

  Ophelia grinned and ran up to the stage. Everyone cheered again.

  Angel looked around the room until she spotted Dominic. He was talking to his boss at the edge of the dining room, but he saw her glancing his way. He winked at her.

  Angel smiled. Maybe things were looking up. It was, after all, only a month to graduation, and then she was going to stay with a friend in another state while they attended a summer-long acting workshop. Angel got a scholarship for it, and she’d been saving up for travel and food expenses, which was all she needed since her friend wasn’t going to charge her rent. Then after that, performing arts school! Pretty soon, she’d be living her own life, making her own choices, and she wouldn’t have to take any more orders from Myron or play second fiddle to Ophelia.

  “And now for the pièce de résistance,” the announcer shouted. “Lower away!”

  The band played a loud fanfare, and something started coming down from the ceiling. Angel figured they were about to see a Freddy-shaped piñata or something. Piñatas seemed to be popular at kids’ birthday parties these days.

  Only half watching the thing get lowered down, Angel blinked and looked more carefully when she saw that the object wasn’t a piñata. At least, it wasn’t a piñata that looked like any she’d seen before.

  Sinking slowly down into the room, a sort of soft-looking statue was undulating and quivering its way closer and closer to the stage. The statue was vaguely girl-shaped, and it wasn’t made of papier-mâché.

  It seemed to be made of … was that candy?

  Angel leaned forward and squinted. Yeah. It looked like gummy candy. It was like a big gummy statue. Okay. That was different.

  Interested now, even as she was equally repelled, Angel watched the gummy statue throw out its arms, kick its legs, and gyrate its body. Clearly some form of animatronic like Freddy and his band members, the gummy statue was in constant motion. It flung itself this way and that.

  Weird. Gross. And maybe a little cool.

  “Kids,” the announcer called out, “for your eating enjoyment, we present to you the Birthday Gummy!”

  The kids cheered.

  The announcer looked at Ophelia. “You, my lovely young lady, as the birthday girl, have the privilege of taking the first bite of our yummy gummy. You will start with the yummy gummy’s toes. And you get the responsibility of having the last bite, the yummy gummy’s gumdrop nose.”

  Ophelia laughed and clapped her hands. She started toward the gummy statue.

  The announcer held up a hand. “Before you start, dear birthday girl, let me repeat to you all. Only the birthday girl can take the gumdrop nose. That is for Ophelia and only for Ophelia. Does everyone understand?”

  The kids all chorused, “Yes!”

  “Excellent,” the announcer said.

  “Now you may begin, Ophelia, and then, kids, come on up and join her. You will all need to take bites to devour this yummy gummy! Ready, set, go!”

  Ophelia ran over to the gummy statue and bit off its big toe. Even though it was made of candy, watching Ophelia eat the toe made Angel feel a little sick. She thought it was strange that the gummy statue kept moving even as the other kids filled the stage and began chewing their way up the statue’s legs. Angel would have thought they would have turned off the animatronics before the thing got eaten.

  Bored again now that the gummy was being consumed by scrabbling children, Angel sat back and tapped her foot. For a few minutes, she watched the kids eat the candy, but then she started feeling queasy. The scene reminded her of the horrible nature shows Myron liked to watch, the ones where the lions ran down a zebra and chowed down. Angel hated those shows.

  “It’s just nature, Angel,” Myron would say to her when she objected. “Quit being so squeamish.”

  Nature or not, she didn’t like seeing living things eaten. She didn’t even like seeing the lobsters in the tanks at restaurants.

  The gummy statue was just a little too lifelike to enjoy seeing it devoured by a hoard of little kid mouths. So by the time the kids were halfway up the legs, she had reached into her purse and come up with a nail file. She started touching up her nails.

  Another several years passed, and the announcer shouted, “You’re doing great, kids! Remember, the gumdrop nose is for Ophelia, and only Ophelia.”

  Angel glanced up to see the kids were at the neck. O
nly the statue’s head was left. It had been lowered closer to the stage so the kids could reach it. Angel watched a pudgy kid tear off the head’s ear with his little white teeth. Her stomach flip-flopped. She looked back down at her nails.

  She didn’t look up again until the announcer shouted, “Everyone, stop!”

  The kids froze.

  The head was almost gone.

  “Ophelia, our birthday girl, come get your gumdrop nose,” the announcer called.

  Angel looked up once more. She saw Ophelia sitting at the edge of the stage looking like she might be sick. The announcer, unperturbed, danced over, pulled her to her feet, and escorted her to the remains of the gummy statue.

  “Take your gumdrop nose,” the announcer said.

  Ophelia looked at the announcer, then reached out and plucked the nose from the nearly consumed head. She tugged on the announcer’s leg, and he bent over. She whispered something to him, and he stood, “Our birthday girl is going to take her gumdrop nose home to savor at a later time. Let’s give her a big round of applause.”

  For what, Angel wondered, saving a gumdrop for later?

  Please.

  Angel shook her head and waited for the century that had been Ophelia’s birthday party to come to an end.

  * * *

  They finally left Freddy’s at around 6:00 p.m. Considering they’d left the house before noon, Angel decided it had to have been one of the longest birthday parties on record.

  The sun was still in the sky, reminding Angel how close they were to June and graduation, her ticket to freedom. The thought helped loosen some of her taut muscles.

  Angel got into the back seat of Myron’s “top-of-the-line” minivan and strapped herself in while Myron helped Ophelia into her car seat. Ophelia said she was feeling “bloopy” because she ate too much of the gummy statue. She still hadn’t eaten the gumdrop nose, though; it had been wrapped carefully in plastic for her.

  Ophelia stank of sweat and garlic. Angel shrunk against her door and turned to look out the window. She pressed her nose against the warm glass and tried to breathe the sun’s expansive rays through the glass instead of Ophelia’s stench.