Page 46 of On Your Life

Reaper

Chapter 25

Kira

My head swims from spinning on the metal stool in Maxie’s room. The thing squeaks against the floor with every rotation, but apparently that isn’t enough to convince me to stop.

It reminds me of hanging out with friends in their college dorms, back when the biggest problem in my life was figuring out whose turn it was to buy cheap beer.

I used to visit Hannah sometimes when she had a break between classes. I never understood the appeal of college. Spending a shit ton of money for some supposedly life changing “experience” just to graduate and make mediocre money has always seemed like a trap dressed up in a pretty brochure.

I made decent money at the bar while she was still barely scraping by at her corporate job. That was all the validation I needed.

Every time doubt started creeping in about my career choices, I could remind myself that I was making more money than someone with a degree and a five-year plan. Maybe my life wasn’t conventional, but at least it was mine.

Yeah, working at the bar was easy. Well, mostly. It could be brutal when things got busy. Especially during the holidays when everyone seemed to stop in on their way to some vacation destination.

I’d hated every second of those shifts—the sticky floors, screaming crowds, aching feet, and endless parade of drunk assholes—until the end of the night. Then I’d count the cash. Suddenly, the exhaustion didn’t seem quite so bad.

“When do you start your new job?” Maxie asks from her bunk, like she could read the direction of my thoughts.

She sets her book down and looks over at me, waiting.

“Tonight.” I swallow. “I’m a little nervous I might fuck it up somehow, but really, how hard could it be?”

Maxie sits up and marks her place before returning the book to the neatly stacked pile on the desk.

“Trust me, if Suzie can do it, you can do it,” she reassures me. “Plus, you can be out as long as you need until morning. She would take hours to do everything because she would nap on a couch in one of the offices.”

Now that I can get behind. Maybe I can get some kind of routine down. Find a comfortable place to sleep for a few hours if Fox is working. This could change everything for me and make this place feel slightly less suffocating.

“I’ll definitely be taking notes from Suzie.”

My eyes drift toward the clock in the common area and I see that it’s four p.m. Fuck. I need to make a call before they cut the phones off for the night.

“I’ll be back, Maxie. I just need to make a call.” The words tumble out between hurried steps as I head toward the phones.

The days seem to rush together here. One bleeds into the next until I can’t remember the last person I talked to or what we even talked about.

Everything has become monotonous—count, meals, count, then lights out. All while trying to make it through the next hour without losing my shit. I’m fully in survival mode at this point and wish so badly to snap out of it.

My fingers tap out my inmate number with precision. I don’t even need to squint at the faded keys anymore. My fingers know exactly where they need to land. The line trills for a moment before she answers.

“Hello?”

“Mom! It’s me, Kira.” I force as much happiness into my voice as I can.

I know she hates that I'm here. I know she worries constantly.

“Honey, you don’t have to tell me who’s calling. I hear that automated message every time I answer,” she says, the sadness in her words hits me harder than I expect.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that.”

“How are things going? Are you eating and sleeping okay?” she asks.

The truth would cause her to spiral. Like actually no, a guard with a massive superiority complex is making my life a living hell. I actually spent my first night as a popsicle and the second butt naked and handcuffed to a shower drain for hours. Also don’t worry that he plowed me in solitary after I drugged him, it wasn’t that bad and honestly could have been worse.

“Things are good,” I lie. That will have to do for now.