Fuck him and his stupid face. And his stupid… monstrous cock that I crave to dominate and ride.
I splash some cold water on my face, trying to shock some life back into my system.
Seriously, who the fuck am I fooling?
The girl staring back at me looks nothing like a future nurse. She looks beaten down, worn out. But underneath the exhaustion, there’s a spark of something. Determination, maybe. Or just pure fucking naivety.
Grabbing my toothbrush, I scrub the taste of stale cigarettes and cheap whiskey from my mouth. I spit out the toothpaste, the minty taste doing little to mask the bitterness.
With a final glance at my reflection, I flick off the flickering light and step out of the cramped bathroom. The short hallway to my room feels a mile long, my legs heavy as I trudge the few steps to my door.
My room isn’t much, just a closet-sized space with a mattress on the floor and a rickety dresser, but it’s mine. I grab my waitress uniform from the back of the door. It’s wrinkled as hell, but it’ll have to do. I shimmy into the polyester nightmare, grimacing at how it clings to all the wrong places.
My purse sits on the floor, bulging with last night’s take. I dig through it, pulling out a wad of crumpled bills.Seven hundred and thirty-two dollars and fifty-three cents. Not bad for a night’s work, even if it did cost me my dignity and leave me wound up tighter than a spring.
“Thank fuck,” I mutter, flattening out the bills. It’s a lot of cash, more than I usually make in a night. But I can’t keep it here. My old man’s got a nose like a bloodhound when it comes to money, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’s helped himself to our cash.
I fold the bills carefully and tuck them into the inner pocket of my jeans. It’s not the most secure spot, but it’s better than leaving it here. I’ll have to find a safe place to stash it at work.
As I’m zipping up my pants, I hear the creak of a door opening outside.
My heart lightens a bit. The kids are up.
I push open the bathroom door, wincing as it scrapes against the frame. The living room’s dark, save for the flickering bulb in the kitchen that’s on its last legs. And there’s John, my dad, passed out on the sagging couch like always, an empty bottle clutched in his hand like it’s his goddamn teddy bear.
The sight of him there, dead to the world while his kids get ready for school, sends a familiar surge of rage through me. I clench my fists, willing myself not to scream or throw something.
“Morning, Wren.” Lenny’s voice breaks through my anger. He’s standing in the doorway of the room he shares with Em, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Hey, squirt,” I force a smile, ruffling his hair as he passes. “Sleep okay?”
He shrugs, heading for the kitchen. “Same as always.”
I follow him, watching as he pours some stale cereal into a chipped bowl. The box is almost empty. Gotta remember to pick up more after work.
“Where’s Em?” I ask, glancing back at their room. It’s crammed with mismatched furniture we’ve scavenged over the years, barely enough space for the two of them. But Em’s outgrowing it fast, and I know we’ll need to figure something outsoon. The thought of it makes my chest tight. Another problem I don’t know how to solve.
“Still getting ready,” Lenny mumbles through a mouthful of cereal.
As if on cue, Em emerges, looking about as thrilled to be awake as I feel. “Morning,” she grunts, stumbling toward the fridge. She yanks it open, squinting at the meager contents before pulling out a carton of orange juice.
“Hey,” I say, then remember. “Oh, Lenny. I got some good news for you.”
His head snaps up, milk dribbling down his chin. “What is it?” he asks, curiosity piqued.
I smile at his eagerness.
“I made some extra cash last night. How about we hit up Westfield Mall this weekend and get you that laptop you’ve been needing?”
His eyes go wide. “Are you serious? Like, for real?”
I nod, feeling a warmth in my chest at the way his face lights up. “Yeah, for real. I’ll take Saturday off, and we’ll make a day of it. Sound good?”
“Holy shit, Wren!” he exclaims, then quickly glances at our dad. But the old man doesn’t even stir.
He nods enthusiastically, shoveling cereal into his mouth like he can’t wait to get started.
Em leans against the counter, sipping her juice. “That’s awesome, Wren. Thanks.”
