One
REESE
My eyes springopen as I jerk awake. My fingers tingle from the sudden alertness.
Is she crying?
I push my hair out of my face and try to figure out where I am. My heart pounds as I search the darkness, but I quickly realize that I’m inside my car and not at the apartment. My phone pings, and I sigh with exhaustion. Pins and needles race to my fingertips as I scroll past numerous Uber requests.
“Goddamnit,” I whisper with defeat.
The amount of money I just missed out on because of an impromptu nap makes me nauseated. I’m not making millions or anything, but the tips I get from driving around drunk college students or rowdy Blue Devils fans is a lot for someone like me.
I blow another strand of hair out of my face, as my shoulders slump. I might as well have been throwing dollar bills out the window with each snore.
Ugh.
The clock reads just a few minutes after midnight, which makes total sense as to why I jerked awake.
Charleigh, though eight months old, still wakes up occasionally throughout the night, and it’s usually around this time that she starts to cry, demanding my warm arms.
I pull open my texts and click on Zoe’s name.
Me
Are you still awake?
Of course my sister is awake. She’s a freshman in college.
Not to mention, she’s my babysitter on the nights that I’m working.
Zoe
If I wasn’t already, I would be now from Char.
I smile.
Me
Like clockwork. Give her a kiss for me. I’m going to try to make a few extra bucks, then I’ll be home.
Few extra bucks…make up for my nap.Unnecessary information.
Zoe
Be careful. There’s an extra baseball bat in the trunk if you need to knock someone’s knees in. Xx
I spin and stare at the backseat of my car.
I’m half tempted to check if she’s being serious, but I know she is.
Zoe may be my younger sister, but she’s as tough as nails. We both are, thanks to the way we grew up, but she’s much morethe type toact now, ask questions later,and I am the complete opposite of that.
A ride request pops on my screen, and I greedily accept it. I pray it’s some drunk girl who’s always eager to become best friends. They always tip me well, even if it’s the last few dollars in their bank account.
I zero in on the address of the pick-up spot. My foot taps on the brake like it weighs three hundred pounds. If it were any other night, I probably wouldn’t take the bait. However, I have to make up for lost time and money, so I can’t be picky.
The farther away I get from downtown Chicago, the closer I get to the wealthier part of the city. The streets are clean, free from potholes that could swallow my entire car in one gulp. There are no homeless loiterers wandering about, and I swear if I were to roll the window down, the air would smell cleaner too.
