Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
“And offend Simone? Not on your life. She’s been here for years, and I’m still a relative newbie.” I rock back on my heels. “Relegated to the plebs, I’m afraid, but if you guys need anything and you can’t find Simone, feel free to come grab me.”
Let me tell you, it feels absolutely horrid walking away from Logan then. It’s like I can feel his attention on my back as I walk away, and there’s an invisible line I tug against with each step.
Things I’d rather do instead of leaving him:
1. Clean the rubbish bin down in the kitchens
2. Wash the mound of dirty clothes I’ve been ignoring all week
3. Go a week without having any sweets
Well…maybe not #3.
But a job is a job, and Logan isn’t going to pay my bills. I rush back to my tables, checking that everyone’s doing all right and refilling drinks for the next half hour before I finally get to take my break. I’m so, so tempted to run back up to VIP and squeeze into that booth beside Logan, but since that’s absolutely mad, I take my mobile out through the kitchen and to the back alley behind the bar. It sounds sketchy, but there are always people out here on break. Even now, there are two busboys smoking a fag a ways down. I wave and they nod back before I dial my mum’s number.
It’s late back home, but she’s always been a night owl. She’s a sucker for those infomercials that drone on at all hours of the night: baking tins that magically clean themselves, head massagers. Every time I talk to her, she’s buying something new that will ABSOLUTELY CHANGE HER LIFE.
The call connects, but for a few seconds, all I hear is the telly.
“Mum, you there?”
“Yes! Candace, hang on. Bloody remote’s gone down between the sofa cushions and I can’t get it.”
The telly blares louder, she huffs in anger, and then finally, the noise cuts off and she sighs in relief.
“There. Now, I can hear you. How are you, darling?”
“Good. Yeah, on break at the bar at the moment.”
“Busy night?”
“Not crazy, actually. Thank god. I might actually make it out of here at a decent hour. It was a bit mad a few weeks ago because of some football game. American football, I mean.”
“Oh, yes. I heard about it. A club from New York won, didn’t they? The Super Bowl?”
“Team, Mum, not club. They don’t call them that over here. And yes, the team from New York won, which is why the bar was absolutely crammed full. I didn’t get out till near three in the morning.”
“And you had to go into school the next day?”
I rub my eyes just thinking about it.
“Yeah, but I mean, I survived, didn’t I? And you got the money I sent back?”
I made a killing that night. It was well worth the lack of sleep.
“Yes, though I don’t know why you insist on doing that. I’ve told you we’re fine.”
My parents are not fine. My mum is an eternal optimist. Their house could be up in flames, burned to bits, and she’d say, Oh, not to worry. Let me just grab a bucket and fill it with the hose. I’ll have this put out in a jiffy. The truth is, my parents haven’t been fine since my dad had a bad fall last year, broke his leg, and had to quit his work at the shipyard. Mum’s cleaning job can’t cover all the bills, and I feel so guilty staying over here instead of rushing home to help them more. Part of the reason I didn’t is because Mum insisted I stay. “We know how much you love it there. Don’t come home on account of us. I’m taking care of Dad just fine.”
“I’ll try to send a bit more at the end of the month. It’ll depend on how well my shifts go this week. Speaking of, I’d better get back. I’ve got tons of tables and don’t want to keep any of them waiting.”
“Oh, right. Do be good and don’t worry about sending anything back for us. Dad’s physio is going well, and he swears he’ll be able to apply for a job soon enough.”
I don’t bother arguing. I’ll send the money home because it’s the only way I can stay in America without being eaten alive by guilt. Also, I know they really need it. They barely scraped by before with Dad employed. I know my mum’s insomnia doesn’t just stem from her love of cheap gadgets, but because sometimes it’s hard to sleep with all the stress she’s got to carry for the family. It’s why I have all the jobs, why I don’t have any glitzy dresses like the girls Logan was with. Can’t afford it. For now, I’ve got my District uniform, and that’s all right. It serves me well enough.