“He’s been very down about it, not handling it very well.”
“So, rent and bills. Got it.” Fuck. That’s at least three grand. I’ve only been working for two months. I don’t even have thatmuch in my bank. “I don’t have enough. My job is part-time, and I only work a few hours a week. I’ve got like, maybe two grand in the bank.”
“Oh, that would be perfect! Between that and my check, we would have just enough!”
That’s everything I have. All of it. All my money.
I could tell her no, that it’s not my problem. And I should. “Mom. I don’t know,” I say warily.
“Please,” she begs me. “If we’re late with rent, he’s going to get so mad.”
And I know what happens when he gets angry. Like he has any fucking reason to get upset when he’s the one putting them in that position.
“I’ll transfer it over,” I say with a sigh of defeat.
No matter how much I hate my mom for not leaving my dad, for not getting us out of that situation, for not putting me first, I still love her. She’s still my mom.
And the idea of my dad taking his anger out on her makes me sick.
“Thank you, baby, thank you so much. I’ll pay you back.”
No, she won’t. She never has.
“Whatever,” I mutter, hanging up on her. I open my bank app, and with a twisted feeling in my stomach, I transfer every penny over to her.
At least it’s to her and not my dad, and I know it will go toward bills. If my father got his hands on it, it would be gone by the end of the day.
Realizing I’m now fucking broke, the option for new clothes for our date is gone.
Feeling like a failure, I take a seat on a nearby bench, my face in my hands, as shame and embarrassment take over me.
Fuck him. Fuck her. Fuck them both.
I hate them. I can’t wait to get the hell out of this town and start over. To never have to worry about money again.
I sit for a little while, debating whether I should just go home or not.
“Screw it,” I mutter to myself. “It wouldn't hurt to check.”
Getting to my feet, I start in the direction of the donation bins. It’s nearly Christmas. It’s the time of year when all the rich people clean out their closets to make space for new clothes in the new year.
I’m bound to find something nice to wear, right?
If I go now, I can find something, bring it home, and wash it before anyone has a clue what I’m doing, or where the clothes came from.
I wonder if Bennett would still love me if he knew just how sad my life really was.
Chapter 20
Bennett
Where is he going?
I watch as Easton walks down the street, heading towards downtown.
He woke me up when he was looking through his dresser. I thought he was just going for a shower, but when he didn’t come back, I assumed he was downstairs making something to eat. But when I got up, got dressed, and then went downstairs, he wasn’t there.
When I sent him a text, and he didn’t answer, I might have gotten a little worried. Was it wrong of me to check out his location on Snapchat? Maybe.
