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“You think I hired you so you can fucking show up whenever you want?” His voice rose even more agitatedly, and his hand gestures became more erratic. “I called you last night to remind you that you were going to be on morning duty and to be extra early because I had a feeling, with the convention in town, we were going to be swamped. And what do you do? You show up an hour late.”
Guilt was leaden in my stomach. I couldn’t look him in the eye, deciding instead to get ready to work. I dumped my backpack behind the counter and snagged an apron, tying it as I spoke. “I know, Erwin. I’m so sorry. Listen, I—”
“Let me guess.” He deftly picked up the tray that appeared at the counter and walked over to place it on the table behind him before returning. “You went off the rails last night and were so hung over this morning that you could barely move. Is that it?”
I flinched at the sneer in his tone, even though it wasn’t an unfair assumption of him to make. Erwin had called me last night when I was still in the bar with Brenda, right before I’d gone home. The music was loud, and I’d had to step outside to hear him. I knew he assumed I’d had a wild night out, and that was why I was late, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“No, Erwin, I swear,” I told him earnestly. “I wasn’t partying last night. Let me explain….”
“Oh please, don’t lie to me.” He got another tray and started moving toward another table. This time, I followed him. “If you’re going to fuck up, at least have the decency to own up to it. That’s one of the few things I respected about you.”
Ouch. I stopped in my steps. But I told myself I deserved it. Erwin was one of the least judgmental people in this town and had never once used my reputation against me. But I also knew Erwin took his business very seriously and had a low tolerance for anyone who threatened to screw it up.
He placed the plate in front of the customers around the large table and gave them a customary smile before walking back to glare at me.
“Look at yourself,” he said in a low tone. “You look like shit. I bet you only got like two hours of sleep last night, right?”
I nodded because his guess was right, but not for the reason he thought. The truth was that I got no sleep because I simply couldn’t sleep. I stayed awake most of the nights, looking at the ceiling. I tried every single breathing exercise I knew of. I tried to meditate, to clear my head, to fucking count sheep. I tried everything short of masturbating over my new neighbor again, but still. Nothing worked.
Meditating only made me realize how much shit I had to think about. Like how screwed up my life was. Like my mother’s abandonment and my dad’s death.
Everything seemed to come back to me in the quiet of the night.
Last night, there was no escaping them with distractions, conversations, or sex. There was nothing else to focus on. It was just me and my heavy thoughts.
And my thoughts…that was where my demons resided.
At around midnight, I felt like I was close to a panic attack. I tried the breathing exercises then, but they made me feel like my heart was beating faster than normal. I couldn’t tell for sure if I was really panicking or if thinking about panicking was making me panic. Either way, I was driving myself crazy.
I got out of bed and started pacing, waiting for the nausea to subside. I glanced at my phone and thought about calling Mateo again, telling myself I could just do it for tonight and never again. But I stayed strong. I reminded myself of why we broke up in the first place, and I refused to involve him in my mess again. Besides, Mateo may not have been the perfect boyfriend or anything, but he deserved better than me using him like that. It wouldn’t be fair.
Which left me back at square one.
After the panic receded, I tried once more to fall asleep. I even attempted to get Roscoe in bed with me, but he jumped out after about a minute, far more comfortable with the floor.
So, instead, I caved and took a sleeping pill. I finally fell asleep right around 5 a.m., sleeping through all my alarms.
But then I couldn’t explain all this to Erwin. Not that he wouldn’t care, but he would probably not even believe me. It would simply look like I was trying to find an excuse for my tardiness when everything else about my appearance confirmed that I was simply an irresponsible party girl who didn’t give a fuck about anything but partying.
So I simply ducked my head in shame and said, “I’m sorry, Erwin. I really am.”
His expression softened just a little, but the anger remained on his features. Or at least frustration. He ran his hand over his head before speaking again.
“Look,” he said. “Piece of advice. I know you’re young, and you think all this doesn’t matter, but take it from someone who nearly destroyed his liver at 15. It fucking does. I know all this drinking and partying might seem fun right now, but that shit is going to fucking wreck you in the long run. You mark my words.”
I nodded, not even bothering to correct him and tell him that I don’t drink. Never have, never will. My father’s alcoholism turned me off from ever wanting to drink. Besides, I was already fucked up enough. I didn’t want to add a reliance on alcohol to my long list of problems.
Erwin sighed again and glanced around. “The only reason why I’m not firing you on the spot is that we can’t afford to be down one staff member right now. Today is going to be insane. But you pull any bullshit like this again, and your ass is gone. Capiche?”
I nodded again, relief and shame intermingling. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Yeah, whatever. Get to work. Start with table five right behind you.” And with that, he was off.
I was about to remind him that he didn’t tell me which section I had today, but I figured table five meant I was taking the middle part of the restaurant. I took a deep breath, spun around to get started, and nearly dropped my notebook.Hewas sitting there.
My damn neighbor.
In my section.
