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Men like that, don’t look at girls like me... Yet he did. Most likely it was because he felt sorry for me. Poor little waitress girl cut her finger. I let out a long sigh.
Yep. I’m pathetic for even fantasizing about him. I mean, nothing would ever happen between us. I am a waitress, and he is some big-wig rich person that gets invited to the mayor’s fundraisers. He will go home tonight in his fancy car, to his fancy house, and not even give me a second thought.
But a girl can dream, right?
EVEN THOUGH AUSTIN promised me he would do better, it’s been two weeks without any change. His school called me again today. He has skipped school four days in the past two weeks, and if he misses too many more days, they will not allow him to graduate next month. Between pulling double shifts at the diner all week, I haven’t been home myself to even notice whether he had been going or not. I guess, I just trusted him after our talk a few weeks ago that he would start to do the right thing. Well, I was wrong.
Mr. Harris sent me a text message yesterday to tell me Austin didn’t show up for work again, and so his brother has to, unfortunately, let him go. I can’t believe my brother is being so selfish. I work so hard to provide for us, and he is old enough now to contribute. Yet he just keeps letting me down.
I have no control over him anymore, and it scares me to no end.
Speak of the devil, and the devil appears. Austin walks through the front door of our apartment with a big grin on his face.
“I would not be smiling if I were you.” I put my hands on my hips, frowning my lips. “Where the hell were you today because you were sure as hell not at school or work? Which, by the way, you have been fired from, and if you miss any more school, you can kiss your graduation goodbye too.”.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out a wad of cash. “I don’t need to graduate, and I got a new job.”
“What’s this?” I pick up the money and count five hundred dollars.
“I got paid today,” he answers smugly. “I told you I would help more and...” He waves his hand at the money in my hand. “Well, I did.”
“Where did you really get all this money from, Austin?”
“I earned it.”
“How? How did you make this much money?” I throw the bills down on the kitchen counter and regard him with infuriation. “Austin, what did you do? Oh my God! Did you steal it? What the heck is wrong with you?”
Austin cuts in, “I just did a few errands for a friend, is all. Indie, look at all this.” He picks up the wad of cash and fans it out in his hand. “You can pay next week's rent in advance with this and still have some left over. You should buy yourself a new jacket or something. Treat yourself, you deserve it.” He places the money back on the table.
I pick it up and try to hand it back to him. “Austin, I don't want this money if it came from something illegal.”
“You're being ridiculous. Just take the money, boogers. I know you need it.” He shoves my hand away.
I throw it at him, utterly appalled. “Don’t you boogers me!” I raise my voice. “I don’t want your thug money. I didn't bring you up like this. I can’t believe you!”
“I can’t believe you!” Austin yells back at me. “You asked me to help, and so I’m helping. But now you throw it back in my face. What does it matter where the money came from, or how I got it, Indie? I got it. You need it. So, take the fucking money and be grateful.”
“It matters to me where it came from!” I yell back at him. “And where the hell do you get off cussing at me like that? Who even are you? I don’t even recognize you anymore.” My blood pressure is about to explode. I am so close to tying him up to his bedpost and never letting him out of his room. EVER! Shaking my head, I take in a deep breath and try to calm myself down.
“You need to give it back, Austin. Take it back from wherever you got it from. I won’t use this money, not even to wipe my ass on it. I mean it. You take it back now!”
“Take it back?” Austin mocks a laugh. “I can’t take it back, Indie. The job is done. They will laugh at me.”
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I try to think of another solution. “Well, then no more. No more jobs or errands for whoever these people you so-called work for are.”
“Jesus, Indie, wake up!” He throws his hands in the air with frustration. “That’s not how it works. You can’t just do one job for these people and then say, ‘Oh, thanks for the money, but I’m out now.’ It doesn’t work like that.”
“Then we’ll pack up and move. We could go to California; you love the warm weather. A new town, a new apartment. A fresh start.”
“I am not going anywhere. I finally feel like I’m part of a family, Indie. They don’t treat me like I need to be taken care of every goddamn second of every goddamn day. They’re my friends. For the first time in my life, I actually feel like I matter, and that I can do something to help us.”
“They’re not your friends, Austin. They are using you.” I try to reason with him but can see I am failing miserably. “Who even are these people? Have you got yourself into a gang? God, please don’t tell me you're in a gang. What the hell have you gone and done?”
Austin clenches his fists and takes a step toward me. “What have I done?” He repeats my question. “I’ve done what you couldn’t! I’m providing us a better life, so we don’t have to eat these fucking dollar box noodles every night.” He picks up a box of noodles from the kitchen counter and throws them at the wall. Then he takes another step towards me, practically standing over me, staring right at my face. My heart is racing; he is actually scaring me.
“Step back, Austin.” I glare up at him and stand straighter. “You're crossing the line. I’m your sister, not your enemy.”
“You should be grateful. You asked for my help, so here it is.” He picks the money up from behind him on the bench and throws it in my face.
