Fortunately, he’s a man who’s easily distracted. “The Rams. They beat ’em last time, so it’s a grudge match.”
“Go and put it on, and I’ll bring you your food.”
Christ. Mom is out all night. How can I stay here?
He doesn’t budge. He just stands and chews his cheek. “When’s your next paycheck coming in?” he says.
What?What’s he talking about? “I’ve just been paid.”
“You are fucking kidding me,” he growls, and my eyebrows rise.
“What, why? What’s the problem?”
Red is building in his neck around the edge of his T-shirt. He straightens and pulls up his pants.
“Your mom and I owe some money to a few people, that’s all. We need your pay.”
Mymomand him? That’s a lie. My mom has never been in debt. She drummed it into me, “Don’t borrow money!” over and over again. She gave me long lectures about how, when you’re struggling to make ends meet, you couldn’t ever afford to go into the red, no matter how rough your life was, how many people offered you a loan, or how easy it seemed to get one. Although she didn’t say what had happened, I got the feeling she’d had a bad experience and was never going to repeat it. We’ve lived on plain rice and pasta while she’s been waiting for a paycheck. She’s often ill, tired, and struggling. I wish I could do more to help. If this asshole has got her into debt, I’ll decapitate him.
My eyes scan over his red face and jittery hands. He’s pretty keyed up. Do wereallyowe some money? My stomach churns.
He sucks a deep breath through his teeth. “I haven’t had so much work in the last month. I’ve been helping your mom. There are bills to pay. You need to pay your way.”
It’s like a slap across the face, and my nails curl into my palms. Yeah, I’vealways paid my way, jackass.Unlike you.Helping my mom, my ass. He finds work sporadically, and when he does it’s all under the table. He drinks away anything he earns in the bar down the street. But I’m not going to start an argument with him. I don’t like his mood, and I’m stuck here for the time being.
“You ask at that fancy job of yours,” he carries on. “Tell them some people in this world don’t have the cash to splash around on tech nonsense and have to put food in their stomachs and a roof over their heads. Tell them you need your paycheck this week.”
“This week!”
“Yeah, girl. Gotta get these guys paid.”
He moves off into the living room, and I stare after him. What guys?
Fuck. Is my mom aware of this? But I’ve got a bigger problem than money: I’ve got to get out of here tonight. There’s no lock on my door. He could do anything. But where the hell would I go? I have no friends from school. They called me Slow Sadie: the stupid girl in the remedial classes. Aunt CeCe would have been an option, except my mom is at her place, and I’d have to explain that Jake touched my ass. Perhaps that is the right call, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that conversation and all its ramifications tonight.
The oven pings, and I take the food out and put it on a tray. Jake grunts at me when I hand it to him—he’s distracted, thank God—so I choke down my creamy pasta sitting at the old pine table in the kitchen. Could today really get any worse? I throw my tray in the trash and head to my room. Pulling a backpack out from under my bed, I start throwing stuff into it, eyeing all my fantasy books on my shelves: Tolkien, Stephen Donaldson,The Hunger Games, Discworld. My heart clenches. A few will have to tide me over. Maybe I could find a cheap hostel for one night and then look for an apartment? Would Williams Security give me an advance on my paycheck? I’d have enough for a deposit then. I opened a credit card when I started working downtown, because Roy, my project manager, told me I’d need a credit score. Hopefully that would be good enough now, but there might be ways around it, too. I could move out of here immediately and permanently. But, fuck, the last thing I want to do is rock the boat at work by asking for money; people just don’t do that.
Once I’m all packed up, I leave the bag under my bed and pop my head around the living room door.
“We’re out of milk. I’m going to head down to the grocery store.”
He nods, absorbed in the game, so I sneak back to my room, grab my backpack, and then I’m out in the corridor, trotting down the stairs.
Suddenly, his voice calls down the stairwell.
“Sadie!”
My heart leaps into my mouth. “Yeah, Jake?”
“Get me some smokes, too.”
“Okay!” I yell as I stand hovering on a step two stories down—the door slams.Calm down.He’s not going to race down here after you, is he? He moves at the pace of a slug. Out on the path between the buildings, I breathe in huge gulps of air as I adjust my bag on my back. I’ve got clothes and cash, and my stomach is full: Life could be a lot worse. I hustle down the quiet dark streets toward the subway, peering past mesh fences and railings into the shadows as the trees whisper above my head and the back of my neck tingles like I’m in someone’s crosshairs. When I reach the station, joy of joys, it’s only a five-minute wait for a train downtown.Thank fuck.
But where the hell are you going, Sadie?
I pull up places to stay on my phone, but they all cost an arm and a leg—over a hundred dollars for a place tonight! A hostel in Jersey City catches my eye—forty-three dollars for the night—and I zoom in on it. It’s an hour and a half away, two trains and a bus, but it’s not like I’ve got any options, and my evening is free. On impulse, I click through to the website and book it before it disappears. Turns out I’m traveling the length of Manhattan this evening. I have no idea how I’m getting into the office tomorrow, but I can worry about that on the way.
Hey Mom, I’ve gone to stay with a friend from work tonight, forgot to mention it to Jake when I left, in case he asks.
