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“Um, I… I’m quitting. This is my last day.”
He purses his lips for a second and then shrugs. “Fine. Leave your uniform before you go.”
“It’s just that I need more money if I’m going to be able to pay my tuition, so I have to find another job.”
Carl scoffs, rolling his eyes. “That’s what they all say, sweetheart. And usually they come crawling back. But good luck out there.”
It’s a clear dismissal, and my stomach ties itself into knots as I close the office door and head for the bathroom. I change out of my uniform and leave it folded up in the back room, since I won’t be needing it anymore.
Fuck, I hate this.
Sure, this job wasn’t great, and Carl could be shitty more often than not, but cocktail waitressing was paying the bills. It was theonlything paying the bills. Without it, I have no idea what I’m going to do.
I walk out of Sapphire earlier than I ever have before, and each step I take toward the bus stop feels heavy and terrible, like I’m trudging through molasses or quicksand that’s pulling me down.
It feels like my life is crumbling around me. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
* * *
Over the next couple days,I get very jumpy. Every time I leave my apartment, I find myself looking over my shoulder, half expecting to see Ransom or one of the other two following me.
Someone brushes up too close to me on the bus on the way home from school once, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
But it’s just a little old woman with a bag too full of groceries, and I breathe a sigh of relief, my hand sliding out from my messenger bag. Ever since Ransom showed up at the club, I’ve taken to carrying a small switchblade with me in my bag. It’s just a little thing to make me feel safer, even though I know if it came down to a fight, I’d probably be dead before I had time to even pull it out.
I start looking for a new job too, but I keep getting turned away. No one is interested in hiring me, and I know it’s because my resume isn’t great. Even though I’ve worked a lot since I was younger, it was all shady, under the table stuff that my mom got me into. Not stuff I can put on a resume when applying to work at the local seafood restaurant.
On the third day after quitting the club, I head to campus, feeling like crap.
The window of time for me to pay the school the rest of the money I owe is rapidly closing, and I can’t help but think of that as I sit through every class, trying to focus and take notes.
After my last class of the day, I have to go to a meeting April called to work on our group project. It’s a hike to get across campus, so I’m few minutes late, and when I walk into the study room she booked, she’s on me in a second.
“Where have you been?” she demands, her hands planted on her hips as she tosses her red hair over one shoulder. “We said three-thirty.Sharp. Do you know what time it is now?”
Usually I try to ignore April’s bullshit, or at least distance myself from it, but this time, I give in to the angry feelings in my chest. She’s had it out for me since the minute I showed up on this campus, when she saw me in ripped jeans and a threadbare long-sleeved tee and decided I clearly wasn’t of the same caliber as her and her friends.
“Get over it, April,” I snap. “I showed up, didn’t I? I’m ten minutes late, it’s not the end of the fucking world.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, her jaw dropping open a little. Then she laughs, her expression morphing into a smug smirk.
“Whatever,” she drawls. “It doesn’t matter anyway. After all, you won’t be here for much longer, will you? If I knew I was gonna get kicked out of school for being too poor, I’d probably slack off too.”
My cheeks heat, my stomach twisting as I glance around at the other students from our class, who are all watching our exchange with interest.
Dammit.
One of April’s crew must’ve been in the admin office the same day I was and overheard the discussion about my tuition being late. Or maybe it was someone trying to get in good with her, bringing her whatever gossip they could to try to get in with her and her crowd. Either way, she knows how close I am to being booted from Wayne State, and that knowledge makes embarrassment and despair rise up inside me in equal measure.
Because she’s right.
Unless some miracle occurs, there’s a good chance I won’t even be here next week.
Turning away from April, I take a seat at the long table in the middle of the room. The rest of our classmates sit too, and I avoid looking in April’s direction as much as possible as the meeting gets started. As soon as it’s over, I rush out of the room, striding quickly across campus toward the administration building.
I have to try to get one more extension. I need more fucking time.
The office isn’t very busy today, thankfully, and when I see the guy I spoke to last time, I approach his desk. He looks up as I near, adjusting his tie.
