Page 2 of 518 Hope Ave
I exhale and take out my phone, immediately pulling open the calculator app. My mind is running at a million miles an hour, and I can't even begin to mentally calculate the pain of the costs that Ms. Hartsworth, I mean,Quinn,mentioned.
Eight-hundred dollars… Almost eight hundred fucking dollars…I think as I tap out calculations on my phone, working out what I need to make it through to the end of the month and how much overtime I’ll need to make it work.
The final value makes my heart sink into my stomach.
"Fuck," I mutter as I stuff my phone into my back pocket and jerk my car door open, the rusty squeak causing a domino effect of pigeons flying away.If one shits on me I’ll actually lose it.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel hard before I insert the key in the ignition, and pray for the engine to turn over and then drive myself home. The dread in my chest fails to leave, but I know what I have to do here. I've been saving up for a new washing machine for what feels likeages, but with all this, I’ll be forced to make a choice between the washer, Cora's annual summer camp at Wild Ridge Mountain, or the Mathletes camp for Lucas. One has to go, so I guess we’ll be waiting a little longer for that washer.
Pulling into the driveway, I head inside, my shoulders slumping in defeat as I head into the laundry room and pile clothes into our struggling washer. Year after year, it hasn't gotten any easier. Pay for this, cost increase for that. At this rate, I may even have to start working a third job.
"You’ve gotta keep your shit together, old girl," I say as I set a pile of bricks on top of the machine so that it doesn't walk across the room when it goes through its spin cycle. I hit start then move into the kitchen, take some sausage meat out of the freezer, and then wash the few dishes from breakfast. Then I check the pantry, make a grocery list, and wonder what I can cut out or stretch a little further. At this rate, I’m gonna need to start baking our own bread.
Bleat…bleat…bleat.The alarm on my cell goes off, and I drop the pencil on the notepad.
"Fuck," I cuss, checking the time before I run to my room and grab a clean uniform from my drawer. I quickly strip off my t-shirt and pull the uniform on so I can get ready for yet another shift at the diner. On the way out, I lock the front door to the house and quickly shuffle to the car, ignoring the rumbling that has started in my belly. I'm skating on thin ice with Caroline as it is, and she said that if I'm late just one more time, they'll cut my shifts. No more excuses. I mean, I still have my job at the Hardware Store, but I can't get the same hours there as I do at the diner. Plus, I'm not allowed to get tips, and the tills don't even have a tip jar. Ineedthe shifts at the diner just to help keep us alive. I can’t fuck this up.
I stick the car into reverse, getting out of the driveway and making my way to the Virgin Street Diner as quickly—and legally—as I'm allowed to. A veil of overwhelm threatens to grip me by the throat, and my mind starts to wander through all the shit that I've gone through andam goingthrough.When will it end? Will it ever get easier?
Things could have been worse…
Thankfully I could pay off the house with the insurance money we got after our parents died in that car crash four years ago. My heart still aches at the memory of the visit from the CFPD, the absolute devastation on the face of the poor officer who had to tell three kids that their parents had passed away after being involved in a hit-and-run. Lucas and Cora couldn't fully comprehend what the officer was saying, but I understood every word.
You will never see your parents again…
I miss them every day, but it’s times like today where Ireallymiss them. I’m not equipped to raise two kids on my own. I’m barely an adult myself.
The moment we ran out of insurance money, I applied for a job at the Hardware Store, begging and pleading with Reuben, the owner, for a job that he reluctantly gave, telling me I had to learn as we worked.
And I did learn. I quickly learned that one minimum wage job wasn't enough to support a family of three when our living costs started eating into my college fund. So when I saw that the diner was hiring, I immediately put in an application and started working the second job a month later. And that’s where I am now. Flat broke, no college fund, working two minimum wage jobs that are barely enough to manage, tips and all.
I’m never getting out of this town. Not that I hate it here. Cherry Falls is a great place to grow up. But I had dreams that were supposed to take me away from here, help me see the world…
I've always wanted to go into graphic design, and the high school counselor agreed that I should after he saw my work. But with the way things are going right now, college isn't an option for me until Lucas and Cora are old enough to go themselves. Their college funds are safe, I've vowed not to lay a finger on a single cent ever since the guardianship of their accounts was signed over to me. Mine, however, is completely depleted.
No one else I grew up with has worries like I do. Everyone has some sort of family to fall back on, someone to go to when things are too much. I’m only twenty-two, and I have no one…I have nothing.
I can't push my burdens onto Lucas and Cora. I never take my frustrations out on them either, no matter how stressed out I may be.
As I get out of the car and run into the diner, the loneliness that follows me around like a pestering rain cloud comes back, and its rainfall spreads across my heart once more. I'm lost. And no matter how much Iwishthings were different, how much I feel like it's not fair, that's the hand that life has decided to deal me. I can't do anything but keep pushing forward.
3
Quinn
"OK, Ms. Hartsworth. Thank you for telling me," one of the parents says over the phone. "I'll be there within the hour."
"Thank you so much for understanding," I reply before hanging up. I let out a sigh, my shoulders slouching. It's never fun when a kid gets into trouble, but I can imagine how a parent must feel after getting a call like that. It would be humiliating.
Pinching a tender spot on my shoulder, I look up to see Ezra walking through the doors to the office and toward me. My eyes take note of him, his slightly longish black hair that complements his brown eyes. A pair of lips a natural deep red that girls can only dream of owning a lipstick to the same effect. Ezra's definitely grown up over the years. I remember that he was this timid, shy guy, hiding behind glasses and grown-out bangs. I think we're only five years apart? I was his senior when he was a freshman, but Cherry Falls isn't the biggest of towns. Everyone practically knows everything about everyone else.
My heart flutters when he smiles at me, which I immediately swallow down. There’s no denying that I find Ezra Taylor incredibly attractive. But he's a student guardian which is highly unprofessional, plus, I’m older than him, and I doubt he’d be into a curvy thing like me. I’m single for a reason, I guess. But I’m not one to change how I look for the sake of trying to land a man. No way. When my prince walks into my life, he’s going to look at me as I am and think,yummy.
“Hey, Quinn,” he says, the dimple in his left cheek popping and causing my ovaries to flip and flop. He's definitely had a glow-up since he was a freshman, a wallflower staying away from the chaos of the school halls. But the stress etched across his face splashes a cool bucket of water over my reaction to his looks. He seems so tired, making him look much older than he actually is. He tries to hide it from the world, especially from his younger siblings, but it is written on his face as clear as day to me. I just want to hug him and tell him everything is going to be OK.
“Hi, Ezra. Something I can help you with today?”
He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his faux-leather jacket. "I'm picking up the kids, so I thought I'd stop by and give you some money.”
