meaning she’ll try anything with anyone, but I’m not.
I hate men, especially ones who wear power and control like a badge. Men who think, just because they have a stick swinging between their legs, that means they are bored with a sword; therefore, they can cut everyone around them apart. “The alpha male.” Pfft.
The door to the room opens, and I pretend to be asleep.
She quietly shuts the door then tiptoes around the room. After she puts whatever she has with her away, I feel her hovering over me. Oddly, it disgusts me more than Patrick Steel did when he was hovering.
“I know you’re awake, Savvy. You’re the only person I know who moves nonstop when they’re sleeping. I just want to apologize and explain.”
“And I want you to eat rotten cock and die.”
She gasps.
“Now leave me the fuck alone so I can sleep.”
“Savvy,” she says, her tone indicating that Chloe’s waterworks are beginning.
I sit up and turn to face her. “I don’t care if you cry. I don’t care if you need to explain yourself with some pathetic lie. I am done talking to you. And you don’t get to talk to me or at me. So, Chloe, shut the hell up and leave me alone.”
She sniffs. “I’m not living the rest of my junior year like this here, too.”
I pull my pillow out from under my head and cover it.
“I didn’t accept you as a roommate; I asked for you. I found out about the discount by accident. He thought that’s why I was asking. He knew about my family’s financial issues. And yes, Savvy, my family is fucked up. I wasn’t lying about it. I don’t want to go home.”
Having had enough, I push myself up and hop off the bed. “Cry me a fucking river, Chloe. Poor you. At least you still have a mom.”
I attempt to walk past her, but she blocks me.
“You do not want to get in my way,” I sneer.
“We need each other,” she pleads.
“Move!”
“We do, Savvy, and you know it!” she scream-cries.
“Get. The. F—”
She throws up her hands and steps back. “Fine. But just don’t leave. I promise I’ll make this right, okay?”
“I don’t care what you do, just don’t talk to me.” I walk around her and toward the bathroom.
“For how long?” she calls to me.
You have got to be kidding me, I groan to myself as I head in to take a shower.
Lying in bed, horizontally, with my legs straight up, resting on the wall, reading from my History of World Religions textbook and listening to a playlist Chloe has streaming, all music I happen to love, and she hates my music. It’s been on repeat since I decided to let it be known I was away. Clearly, she’s kissing up. Obviously, she’s worried about the discount and whatever extra she makes for basically babysitting.
I only have an hour before I get to go to work. Yes, get to. I only work on weekends, during breaks, and one day a week, but it’s an excuse to get the hell out of here. Walls, money, backstabbing bitches stifle my spirit.
When the next song starts, I feel my throat tighten, a natural reaction to the song that reminds me of Mom, “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac. This time, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop whatever happens next, so I set my book down and hurry to the bathroom.
I shut the door, lean against it, slide down until my ass is on the cold tile, and then just breathe.
The first tear falls. At the same time, there’s a knock on the door.
“Savvy, are you okay?”
“I said, don’t talk to me.”
“Well, I need to know a timeframe.”
Is she fucking serious right now?
“Two days? Two weeks?”
Two lifetimes, I think as I hug my knees.
I actually enjoy closing much more than opening. The one to nine p.m. weekend shifts are the best. I’m alone during the last two hours. It’s dead, and I’m glad. Very rarely is it busy enough that I have to call Marcy and have her come back. She only lives three minutes away, so if by some freak happening that it’s too busy I can’t handle it, she’s here before anyone gets agitated.
And even though I need the money, Marcy’s granddaughter is looking to pick up an extra shift while home from college, so I gave her a morning shift tomorrow. Knowing I’m not opening, I don’t necessarily have to have everything ready like I normally do when I close