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I was thinking I could leave by myself because I had my car, but I don’t have my keys.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I sigh, irritated with myself for forgetting such an important fucking thing.
What am I supposed to do now? I have nothing. I don’t even have pocket change. How will I make it to my next paycheck? How will I buy myself food? I was going to use my credit card to pay for a hotel tonight, but I don’t have one of those, either.
Is there anything I don’t fuck up?
Well, there’s one extremely important thing I have to ask for and now I’m grateful Jonathan decided to fuck me in the shower because I won’t feel like such an asshole asking him to pay for it.
Clearing my throat and avoiding his gaze as I set his plate down in front of him, I say, “Um, I hate to ask, but I didn’t bring my purse last night. It was in the bathroom and I meant to grab it, but I… I forgot. Your dad had me drop my car off here last night after I got off work, but my keys are in my purse. Um, do you think you could give me a ride to the pharmacy?”
I feel his gaze flicker to me, but I stab my scrambled eggs to avoid meeting it. “For what?”
My face heats. My palms feel sticky. “I need to get Plan B just to be safe.” My stomach drops saying it and I flash him a faintly guilty look. “You didn’t use a condom in the shower.”
He watches me for a moment, but then he nods and scoops up some eggs. “Sure.”
“Thank you,” I say, before adding awkwardly, “I don’t have any money. My wallet was in my purse, too.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I should thank him, but I feel too stressed.
Is this my life now? At the mercy of the men I let fuck me? I’ve never felt more like my mother, and it’s revolting.
My stomach seems to hurt more with every bite of food I put into it, but Jonathan seems to remember something that dissolves my ability to even stomach food after a moment. “Your car’s not here, by the way.”
“What?”
“Your mom came and got it in the middle of the night.”
Of course she did.
Hopelessness threatens to swallow me up. For a moment, I feel like I’m in the middle of a vast void, and my life will never not be as empty as it is right now.
I have no money and no car. I have a shitty part-time job I won’t get a paycheck from for almost two more weeks. How am I supposed to take care of myself?
Life isn’t supposed to be this hard.
I don’t even want to be here anymore.
I get up and dump my eggs in the garbage, then I head upstairs to quickly catalog my things and see what items I actually have to my name.
The iPad is old. I guess I can sell it, but I won’t get much. I can sell my headphones. They’re basically new and a limited edition model, so maybe I could get a couple hundred dollars from them. My laptop is old and shitty, but I can’t sell it. It wouldn’t be worth much, and it’s probably worth a lot more to me since I don’t even have a phone anymore.
I have to remember to cancel my service. I’m sure as hell not going back to the apartment to get it.
I can’t really be without a phone. Maybe I can get one of those prepaid garbage phones drug dealers use. Maybe I shouldbecomea drug dealer. Surely then I can make some money.
The door creaks as Jonathan opens it.
“What are you doing?” he asks, seeing me sitting in a pile of all my things.
“Contemplating a life of crime.”
He nods like that checks out. “Well, if you need contacts, I know some people. You ready to go to the store?”
