Page 15 of Ink

I think a small part of me was hoping what happened yesterday was a fluke. That he would apologize for what he said and actually mean it. The one he gave yesterday was a poor excuse for an apology and I think it only happened because he knows I heard what he said. If he didn’t think that, there wouldn’t have been one at all.

I’ll never admit to him that his comment flayed me wide open. The sad thing is that he’s right. No one has ever wanted to put effort into me. I’ve spent my whole life in the shadows, only speaking when others spoke to me. You could be the strongest person in the world, but after a while, it would eventually eat away at you until you feel hollow inside. It’s hard to care about yourself when not even one person cares about you.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” A voice sneaks up on me, making me jump.

The pen I was holding goes flying as I jump back and my hand covers my racing heart.

“Holy shoot!” I exclaim, coming face to face with Gage, who is trying his hardest not to laugh but failing miserably.

“Holy shoot?” he asks between faking coughing to cover his laugh. “I’m not going to tell your mom on you, Sutton. You can say shit. We’re all adults here.” My cheeks are on fire as he laughs so hard he doubles over.

Quickly bending over, I pick up the pen I threw, setting it back on the desk next to the notepad I’m borrowing that I found in one of the desk drawers. I try to laugh along with him, but it sounds awkward and forced, even to my ears. I’m surprised my fidget ring doesn’t spin right off my finger.

“Ahh fuck. I needed that laugh, Sutton. Thanks.” Gage smiles as his laughter stops.

I give him a small smile, determined to not let the anxiety of what just happened win. My brain will analyze every little detail until I want a giant black hole to swallow me up because I obviously can never show my face to these people again.

“So, you goin’ to tell me what you’re lookin’ at?” Gage asks as he tries to look over my shoulder.

Shoot.

“Um, just some places for rent,” I respond, ripping the sheet that I wrote a few places for rent on, folding it carelessly to shove into my back pocket. The last thing I want is for any of them to know I’m basically homeless and living out of a motel. “I’m sorry I was doing this on company time. It won’t happen again.”

“Company time?” Gage starts laughing all over again. “Fuck, girl. You sure know how to make me laugh. We don’t give a shit about that here. If you have down time, you’re free to do what you want with it.”

My small smile I had given him earlier has turned into a wonky straight line. I’m trying to keep the mood light, but I’m really not understanding what’s so funny. The last thing I need is for him to give Ink another thing to yell at me about, or better yet, fire me.

“You movin’?” he asks.

I open my mouth to respond, but another deep voice beats me to it.

“Who’s movin’?”

Both of us turn to see Ink prowling down the hallway, eyes darting between Gage and I. I didn’t notice how close Gage had gotten to me until I looked down to see what Ink had his gaze now locked on. Our hands were centimeters apart. One slight movement and they would be touching.

Clearing my throat, I take one step to the side, creating a little more space between Gage and I. I need enough room for my invisible comfort shield.

“I am,” I answer.

“Why?” Ink asks, stepping into my space, popping the bubble I built back up two seconds ago.

Why?

Why does it matter to you?

“I’m just ready for a change.” There. That was a good answer. I’m assuming that’s why most people move, right?

“Change? What kind of change could a girl like you possibly need?”

Gage makes a noise of disbelief.

A girl like you.

There it is again. His questions sound rhetorical, so I don’t bother answering.

“You’re what, twenty years old? Did daddy stop paying for your place?” He mocks. “Decided to take a job at my shop to get back at him. Is that it?”

“Ink, ease up, man,” Gage cuts in.