Page 46 of The Dis-Graced
Being destitute has always been my biggest fear. Having grown up in poverty, it’s not something I wish to return to.
Stephanie:Gracey, calm the fuck down! You’re not going to be homeless. First, you need to apologize and BEG for your job back. Explain what happened and promise it won’t happen again.
Grace:But—
Stephanie:No, buts! This is nonnegotiable.
I know she’s right, even though I haven’t technically been fired yet. I have no other option but to beg for Drake’s forgiveness, because if I don’t, I’ll be out of work, with nowhere to stay, and no job prospects.
Grace:I guess it’s what I have to do, but the guy acted like a real ass.
Stephanie:That’s right. Go now, beg for forgiveness, no matter how big of a jerk he is. Maybe think about turning on your charms. You got this!
I click disconnect, knowing what I need to do but unable to bring myself to do it.
“Grace?” ALAN says from my phone.
I had forgotten he was connected to my cellphone, and now I’m embarrassed my new…friend…or whatever he is, was listening in.
“Not now, ALAN!!” I throw down my phone.
I instantly regret my actions. I’m scared and lonely, without friends and even my brother. I desperately need someone to talk to, and if ALAN is all I have, so be it. I pick up the phone, putting it to my ear.
“ALAN?”
“Yes, Grace?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just…upset.”
“I am aware of that, which is why I wanted to tell you this: Drake isn’t mad at you.”
My brow furrows in confusion. “I’m pretty sure he damn near hates me.”
“That would be an incorrect assumption. He’s upset, more so with himself and his brother. You were merely an ‘innocent bystander’ in their interaction.”
“I-I—”
“Drake is seated at the kitchen island. You should go to him.”
Be brave. No matter how harsh his words were, he’s going through some shit too. There’s room for you both to forgive.
I go to the bathroom to touch up my makeup, knowing ALAN is providing sound advice, but stop myself.
I’m sorry for what I’ve done, and my tears show this. Furthermore, I’m not trying to seduce Drake, even though that would be, in a word, incredible. Maybe I should let him see me as I am.
I creep through the apartment, finding him exactly where ALAN said I would.
“Hey,” I whisper softer than I had aimed for.
He glances over his slumped shoulder. “Hey.” His foot kicks out the chair next to his, and I seat myself beside him.
“I’m sorry,” we say in unison, our eyes meeting.
“I had no idea—” I start, but he places a finger over my lips.
“I said something I shouldn’t have said to you, a lot of things, actually. I want you to know that I’m sorry. There’s no good excuse as to why I said those things, just that I did.”
“I understand,” I say. “If I were you, I’d be worried about my association with me too.”
