I wasn’t wrong the night I met her. Thereisa story there, hidden in the depths of the almond brown of her weary eyes. It’s where her question stems from. At least, that’s what instinct tells me.
Whatever Violet has been through has made her question life. I wish I had a better answer than, “Selfishness.”
My answer might reflect my experiences more, but it’s what it comes down to. Most people work out of their own selfish needs. It's why people get let down, why heartbreak happens. They’re too busy worrying about themselves to consider another person.
A sound between a scoff and a laugh leaves her. “You’re right. It does come down to that.” Her gaze moves down my face. For a second, I think they settle on my lips, but they keep traveling south until she asks, “What happened to your neck?”
“What?”
“Your neck. There’s a bandage on it. What happened?”
A sharp twinge of pain sparks beneath the band-aid I used to cover Finn’s assault. At the memory of the glowing tip of his cigarette melting my skin.
“I work in a shipping warehouse,” I tell her, swallowing through the discomfort of the lie. “A piece of cardboard scratched me.”
The lamest lie in the world, but it’ll have to do. I’m not about to share with her what really happened, nor am I ready to let Sebastian in on the fact that I’m caught up in a bad situation with people his mother would drop dead over if she knew. I don’t want word getting back to Aunt Bess.
Not because I’m scared of her. She’s one of the most caring people you’ll ever meet. I just don’t want to disappoint her. I don’t want her to look at me like I’ve seen her look at my mom.
I may have Janie Moore’s DNA, but I’m nothing like her.
I never will be.
ELEVEN
COLSON
Finn:*sends multimedia message*
Colson:Get the fuck away from our house.
Finn:Or what?
Finn:Gonna leave that comfortable skyscraper you’re living in and run us off the street?
Colson:I’m not you. I don’t run people off the goddamn road.
Finn: Aw, still salty about that, are we?
“I have to let you go.”
I pretend like my boss is playing a prank on me because while I may not hear from him often, usually only when there are extra shifts about to be posted, I know he values how hard of a worker I am.
“Funny, but that’s not cool to joke about, Jay.”
His voice is tight when he repeats himself. “You’re not the only person Harrison Shipping is letting go. The new bosses are hard asses. Even your numbers don’t reflect what they want to see.”
Weeks ago, Jay brought up the potential of new owners purchasing the warehouse to the entire shift, but I didn’t think it was something I needed to worry about. I show up to work every day, and I produce. I bust my ass to make sure the day’s packages on my line are handled, sometimes more.
Liquid dread travels through my body at an alarmingly fast rate. I might pass out. If I do, I guess the positive, is that I won’t have to think about being newly unemployed for a minute.
“I need this job, Jay.” My position at H.S. might not lead to a career or retirement plan, but it’s putting money in my pocket while I figure out this shit with Finn and what I want to do with my life.
“I know. I vouched for you, Colson. I’m lucky they’re not replacing management. Morgan is thirty-two weeks pregnant. That kind of news would put her into labor.”
Son of a bitch.
I can’t expect him to move mountains for me. He has his own family to feed, and I’m not about to put that at risk by asking him to vouch for me further.
