It only took me a couple of minutes to figure out how it worked, and it saved me from complete starvation. It was also the most delicious thing I’d ever eaten. But if I didn’t get some real food, real fast, I was gonna keel over.
Looking around the street from the edge of the bus station, I wonder where I can get a good salad. I also need to find somewhere to sleep. A bright sign down the road readsdiner, and I make my way there, trying not to drag my feet from exhaustion as I hike my bag up on my hip.
When I step inside, I realize it’s pretty busy—people chattering, utensils dinging on plates, the grill sizzling—and it’s a bit of an assault on my senses. What doesn’t escape my notice is that there are women here who aren’t wearing dresses. I’d been noticing that ever since I first stepped foot in the bus terminal, and when a woman greets me and takes me to a booth, telling me her name is Martha and that she’s going to be my server, I bite my tongue, wondering what else Robert has told me is a lie.
Womencanwork. Theycanwear pants. It’s all I can do not to stare. As I drink my water and eat my salad, I try not to make it obvious I’m watching everyone. The women are all dressed differently, and even have different hairstyles. One woman's hair is shorter than Robert’s.
“Martha, is there a hotel nearby?” I ask when she brings me the bill. I pull out a fifty, and after hearing other people say,"Keep the change," I tell her the same.
Her eyes go wide as she stares at the money. “Are you sure, honey? My smile ain’t that good.”
I guess a thirty-dollar tip is too much, but I nod, pretending that wasn’t the first bill I’ve ever paid. “Of course, you clearly work hard here.”
She pockets the money and takes my empty plate. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing? You’re looking for a place to stay? If you want cheap, there’s a motel down the block that way,” she tilts her head to the right. “But if you’re looking for something a little safer, there’s a Holiday Inn, two blocks in the other direction.”
“Thanks, Martha. Have a lovely evening,” I tell her, pulling my bag strap over my head as I move to stand up.
“You, too, honey.”
Safety is important to me right now, especially so I can get a good sleep. I just hope I have enough money after that accidentally large tip. It doesn’t take me too long to walk there, and I’m grateful for the well-lit parking lot and welcoming lobby.
Unfortunately, I didn’t realize you’d need an ID to rent a room. The receptionist was kind, at least, and suggested I try the motel, probably the same one Martha had suggested, back in the opposite direction.
It feels like I’ve been walking forever by the time I finally get to the dingy motel and can secure myself a room without any ID. I shove a broken chair under the door for extra security before changing and jumping into the firm bed.
It’s only then that I realize I never readthe three other letters I got today, so I pull them out of my bag and read them. They bring tears to my eyes, knowing they are out there and that these are the last letters I’ll ever have from them.
The next morning, as I make my way across the parking lot, a guy around my age jumps out from behind a car, startling me.
“Stay back!” I yell, holding my palms out toward him as fear shoots through me.
He throws his hands up in surrender and takes a step back, calming my racing heart just a tiny bit. “Shit, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you. I just heard you mention you had no ID when you checked in last night.”
He looks around, as if to make sure nobody’s listening, before he steps closer and leans in to speak quietly. “If you’re looking for a fake ID, go to the Gravel and Grit and ask for Tony. It’s a bar on the outskirts of town. It’s closed until Friday, though.”
“Oh, um, thank you,” I tell him, taking a step back.
“No worries.” He spins and runs off so quickly; I’m not even sure where he went.
A fake ID, huh? That could be useful. I could stay at a place much nicer than this dump, and eventually use it for other things. Like, getting a job.
Deciding it’s a great idea, I stop at the lobby, securing the room for another few nights before I go out venturing for breakfast.
As I wander the streets of Colorado Springs, I wonder what my plan is. I never really thought much past cooking, cleaning, and being the perfect little sister. But now… now I could do anything, go anywhere. Maybe I could even go to Canada and experience a real winter, making snow angels… all by myself.
I shake my head, trying to get that somber thought out of my mind, and decide that, once I get my ID, my whole life is gonna change for the better.
CHAPTER SIX
SLY
“If you don’t move, I’m gonna rip your arm off and shove it up your ass,” Pete says, palms resting on the table as he grins down at the new guy who dared to sit at our spot. It’s not a kind grin, it’s the sort that promises chaos.
The young guy immediately jumps up, his face stricken with terror as he runs off like a puppy with his tail between his legs.
He didn’t even take his food with him. I sigh as I stare at his tray. What a waste.
“Dibs!” Dex yells, taking the next seat over, grabbing the extra tray, and pouring the kids' food on his plate.
