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You’re broken, Beck. Beyond saving. No one will ever want you.
I took the pill bottle from my pocket and shook out another one. It was dangerous to take too many. I might get too used to them and crave the numbness.
Inside my dad’s office, Colette laughed, the tinkling sound scraping over my nerves.
I took the pill and crunched it between my teeth, enjoying the burning bitterness.
Bring on the numbness. I couldn’t stand anything else.
Eve
NOW
Heat bakedthrough the Chickadee Diner windows, and a few fans turned lazily overhead. The place didn’t have central AC, considering how few months it was needed in Maine. So, I was sweating through my uniform and fantasizing about being at the beach, where the rest of my graduating class were. Hell, I’d settle for a nice pool like the one at Cliff Point. Only a month ago, the high school hockey team had won the state championships, and we’d celebrated at the Anderson mansion. Beckett tolerated my presence, but our relationship hadn’t improved since our first meeting years before. We were just good at hiding how much we loathed each other.
“I don’t know…Intro to Economics sounds so much more interesting than Quantitative Research Methods in Business.” I leaned over the back of the shiny vinyl booth my best friend was sitting in.
Lily had an HHU course catalog open before her and was highlighting things she found of interest. She already had all herclasses figured out, of course, being the most organized person I knew. Now she had moved on to planning my schedule.
Lily tapped her highlighter against the page. “Hmm, agreed, but then we’d need to move Marketing 101 to Friday, which sucks as a day to have a heavy class load.” She considered it for a moment and then looked up at me. “What about your extracurriculars? What about cheerleading? Are you going to try out again?”
I wiped down the back of the booth to look busy when my boss glanced in my direction. “Would it even be a new school year if I didn’t try out for cheerleading and fail miserably? It’s tradition at this point.”
Lily scoffed. “You’re a better dancer than any of them?—”
“Biased, but I appreciate it.” I grinned at her.
“Youarea better dancer than any of them. Selena just didn’t like you.”
Well, she wasn’t wrong. The last time I’d tried out, Selena had implied that it would have been too hard for me to keep up with the financial demands of being a cheerleader, and not only that, but I’d struggle to make it to games, seeing how often I worked after school.
“But don’t you have like a hundred part-time jobs?”I could still remember the annoying wrinkle in her nose when she’d asked me that insulting question. Like working countless part-time jobs was just a time-consuming hobby and not a necessity.
“Hey, she didn’t like you either,” I reminded Lily, who just laughed.
“Well, at college, you’ll have a clean slate. Selena’s a nobody there. Just dance like you do, and you’ll get on the squad, finally.”
Being a cheerleader had been a long-time dream, instilled at a young age by watching way too many teen movies and after-school TV shows. For the child of an immigrant single mother who’d lived her life right on the poverty line, becoming a cheerleader at a middle-class school like Hade Harbor High would have meant being accepted in a way that had never really happened for me. Like Selena had ruthlessly pointed out, time and again, I’d have been too poor to keep up with the demands of the squad in high school. In Hade Harbor, even the cheerleading team was expected to drop serious money on spoiling their players. I had no idea if college would be the same, but I was determined to try out regardless. Some dreams die hard, and I wouldn’t be happy until I’d officially been rejected from the squad. That way, I’d have no regrets.
“Eve, table four needs topping up!” my manager Gary called.
I dutifully turned toward table four. It was the beginning of summer after my senior year of high school, and I was due to spend nearly every single day of it right here, working my ass off in the Chickadee Diner. I was already over it. I needed college to start and fall to come. I needed to have one damn day where I didn’t pour endless cups of coffee for crappy tips and go home smelling like fried onions. While other kids were at the beach or packing to travel abroad, I was working full-time and shoving the money into savings. Still, a job was a job, and I enjoyed seeing my meager savings build up. I’d need it for college, as neither me nor my brother would take our mom’s hard-earned cash.
I approached the table, dread pooling in my gut. I knew these guys. They were regulars and called me by my name. They thought that made me their girlfriend, or at least someone they could flirt with, or worse, slap the ass of. I stopped a good distance off from the table.
“Refills?”
“Finally. Top me up, darlin’.” Ray, the youngest of the bunch, smiled at me. He was the potential ass grabber. A real Romeo.
I kept his hands in sight as I poured a refill of the black rocket fuel they served in the diner.
“Gracias,” Ray said, grinning at me when I pulled way.
“De nada,” I murmured in reply, and wondered for a second if he was trying to win me over or just being a jerk. It was always hard to tell.
I was born and bred right here in Maine, but my mom was from Colombia. I didn’t look like most of the other residents in Hade Harbor, that was for sure. Asher and I had inherited my mom’s bronzed complexion, thick dark hair, and Colombian features. According to Lily, that made us the most attractive folks in town, and as I considered Ray with his receding hairline, greasy T-shirt, and red, blotchy skin, and compared him to Ash, I was inclined to agree.
I topped off the rest of the cups and turned away. I’d only taken one step before Ray’s hand landed hard on my behind. Gary, the manager and owner, insisted on the same old waitressing uniform that had been standard in the joint for twenty years. He had no interest in modernizing the short button-up dress. He claimed he liked the retro style and resisted all attempts to get the female employees some leggings or shorts to go underit. It was like the #MeToo movement had never reached the backroom of the Chickadee Diner.
