this school was. I was tired of getting in my own way. Excuses and stubbornness were Mama’s forte, not mine.
“The only reason I’m not pissed at you is because this lab has an RB50 Fluorescence Microscope,” I replied with a laugh, and I realized then that it was the first time I’d truly felt excited about the future since before Mama was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer.
“Well let’s go talk to Doctor Lucas. We can get you into the sports medicine club.”
“Okay,” I replied with a wide smile before looking around the room a couple more times. “Thank you,” I whispered, too embarrassed to say it any louder and let him hear that I was thankful for his persistence.
Decker strolled over to me with a humble grin. He didn’t bask in the fact that he was right, which surprised me. Most men Mama brought home liked to brag that they knew what was best for us. They’d tell me what to do and get off on thinking they were smarter than me. But not Decker.
“You’ve been through a lot. You thought you had to do it all on your own because you’ve never had people to lean on,” he whispered. His voice held a tender quality that was both unexpected and invigorating, and oh, how he was right. It was always up to me to keep a roof over our heads and Mama’s treatments in check. I’d been taking care of myself for so long that I didn’t know any better. “But a part of growing up means seeing the bigger picture. Why just survive, when you can thrive?” The moment was too heavy. His body too close. My breathing too shallow. We were in dangerous waters, and I needed to swim my way out.
“Why does that sound like a cheesy marketing slogan?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. We were driving toward serious conversation territory, and I wasn’t ready to part with more of my honesty.
“Because it is one. I like to save my original genius for the classroom.”
We both laughed, and it felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest. Maybe I could take my future by the balls. Maybe I could be more than a waitress or Sharron’s daughter. Maybe one day, I could have a lab coat and my own stethoscope. I just hoped I could handle sitting in Decker’s classroom without drooling.
8
Blakely
My feet were throbbing. It felt like a thousand bees had stung my heel, making each step burn with pain. I was no stranger to hard work. I could keep up with the best of them with a thankful smile on my face. But Friday nights at Huck-a-poos were fucking killer. It didn’t help that my shoes were so worn that I was one rough patch of concrete away from a massive hole. But Lance had been so kind, I didn’t want to ask him for new shoes, especially since he’d just bought me a few summer dresses and my new uniform for school. I figured a few more busy nights like this, and I’d have extra to spare for a good pair of shoes.
Besides, Rose kept slipping bags of clothes in my arms after my shift. The latest collection of clothes had a couple pairs of stilettos. Maybe soon she’d get sensible and add a pair of sneakers to the pile.
“You look exhausted, B!” Monica yelled over the live band while shaking her hips. She was carrying a large tray of drinks and smirking at anyone willing to give her a second look. Rose kept me mostly on food orders and left the bartending to people twenty-one and over, which meant I missed out on drunk tips, but the pay was still good—way better than what I made as a custodian. At this rate, I’d save up more than enough over the next year to get out on my own.
“I’m fine,” I chided, hating that she was bringing attention to how tired I looked. It wasn’t my fault I wasn’t getting much sleep lately. I wasn’t sure if it was anxiety over starting at a new school, the extended hours at Huck-a-poos, or the fact that across the hall, a man that had me confused as hell was sleeping. Off limits. Off limits. Off limits!
“Well, two tall drinks of water just asked to sit in your section. If you’re too tired to finish out your shift, I’d be more than happy to take them off your hands,” she replied