10. Stevie
ten
stevie
I’M NOT GONNA make rent this month.
The amount in my bank account is laughable. I’m going to need to empty it all out to pay rent and it still won’t be enough. I don’t dare look at my credit card balance. I won’t even be able to make the minimum on that.
I want to cry.
I’ve been donating plasma to try and make ends meet.
The whole process takes about an hour and doesn’t really hurt except when they put the needle in.
You don’t feel weak or lightheaded afterwards because they only take your plasma and give you back your red blood cells.
Plus, you’re helping immune-compromised people.
It’s a good thing to do, even though I’m only doing it for the money.
None of the places I’ve applied to for work have gotten back to me and I feel completely hopeless.
Becca has been so supportive, but I don’t want to rely on her kindness.
I have no idea if she’ll be able to cover the difference in rent.
I hate to even ask her, but I only have a week until rent’s due. I have to figure something out.
I could probably ask my mom for a loan, except it makes me feel like such a failure to still be relying on her. Why can’t I make it on my own? I’m a full-fledged adult. I’ve worked since I was 14 years old. I should be able to take care of myself.
With a sigh, I log out of my bank app and put my phone away.
I’m so frustrated by my financial circumstances I just want to scream and scream and scream.
There doesn’t seem to be any hope. Jobs are hard to come by.
Everything costs an arm and a leg. Rent goes up every year.
I feel trapped by it all. Like I’m treading water, and there’s only so long you can tread water before you tire… and drown.
I’m sitting all alone at The Roast, at a table by the window.
My English textbook is open on the table, my notebook next to it.
I’m supposed to be studying, but all I can think about is how much money I don’t have.
The jewelry I make and sell online is my passion, but marketing it on social media lately hasn’t been successful, and I don’t have the money for ads.
My crystal, handmade pieces are trendy right now, but if I can’t make them reach the right audience, it just doesn’t matter.
Everything sucks and my mood is in the toilet.
I’m looking out the window and brooding when someone stops by my table. I look up to see Melanie. “Hey!” she says. “Mind if I sit here? There’s no other tables.”
“Oh my god, of course I don’t mind.” I move my stuff back into my backpack. It’s not like I was going to start studying anyway.
“I hope I’m not bothering you,” she says as she sits down.
“Not at all.”
“How have you been?” She takes a sip of her latte. I didn’t even buy myself a coffee because of all my money anxiety. I can’t keep adding to my credit card balance.
“Pretty good,” I lie. “How about you?”
She shrugs. “Can’t complain. I might even have a new boyfriend. I’ve been on three dates with this guy from my Intro to Psychology class and things are going pretty good.”
I sit up straighter in my seat. “I love that for you.”
“Thanks. I love it for me too.” She giggles.
“What’s he like?” I ask. “Tell me everything.” Some gossip will get my mind off how broke I am.
Mel’s always been fun to talk to. She was forever telling me crazy stories back when we worked together at the diner.
I haven’t thought about those days in what feels like ages, even though it’s only been a few weeks since the incident with Joe. Time seems to have flown by since then.
“He’s great,” Mel gushes. “A total gentleman, but also fun and easy to talk to. We text each other all day long. And he hasn’t even tried to kiss me yet.”
I nod, thinking back to how far I’ve gotten with Hunter in just a few weeks.
Heat pools in my belly at the thought of our last encounter in the men’s restroom at Madness.
That club is aptly named, because that had truly been madness on my part.
I would’ve never, ever done that with any other man, but something about Hunter brings out a wild side I never knew I had.
It’s exciting.
“How about you?” Mel asks. “Are you dating anyone? Did you ever find Hunter Cruise and thank him like you wanted?”
I fidget in my seat and look away, hoping she doesn’t catch my discomfort. I don’t think I could call what Hunter and I are doing dating, per se. More like doing crazy things in inappropriate places.
“I’m not dating anyone, and yes, I did find Hunter and thank him.” I smile in what I hope is an innocent way.
Mel’s eyes are huge. “What did he say when you thanked him?”
I shrug, glancing away again. “Oh, just that it was nothing and I didn’t need to thank him.”
“Wow. Really?”
I nod. “Mhmm.”
“That’s sweet.” Melanie taps her phone screen with the tip of her finger. “Shit. It’s almost time for my next class. I’m so glad we bumped into each other. Let’s catch up again, soon, okay?”
“Okay, have a great time in class.”
She rolls her eyes. “Impossible. It’s math.” She laughs and waves goodbye.
Twenty minutes later, I’m finally about to leave when Hunter walks into the coffee shop.
He’s alone, a heavy-looking duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
He doesn’t see me, and I take the opportunity to look my fill, even as I realize every girl in the vicinity is doing the same thing. He’s just that gorgeous.
And he looks absolutely delectable in gray sweatpants and a gray thermal, the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, dusted with dark hair.
I never thought forearms could be sexy, but his are.
My nipples tingle and I feel warmth and wetness in my underwear.
Jesus. How can just looking at him bring such a reaction? Am I under a spell?
He faces straight ahead as he waits in line, even though I’m sitting only a few feet away from him.
Staring at him when he doesn’t know he’s being watched makes me feel naughty, and I love it.
His hands are in his pockets and he’s looking up at the coffee menu displayed on the wall.
I’m about to go up to him when a pretty blonde steps in front of him and starts talking to him animatedly.
I have no right to feel jealousy – Hunter’s not my boyfriend – but jealousy quickly unfurls in my chest. I look away, too irritated to keep watching them.
I grab my pen and notebook out of my backpack and scribble loops on a blank page over and over again.
Ugh. I don’t want to feel jealous. I hate the feeling. It’s corrosive.
I look out the window again.
For a moment, I wonder what it’d be like to be a hot guy, popular and rich, with no financial worries ever, and pretty girls throwing themselves at you all day. The power has to be intoxicating.
Feeling sorry for myself is not going to help. I grab my laptop and open it up, determined to apply to more jobs. Determined to take control of my life.
A minute later, someone puts a coffee cup in front of me and slides into the seat Melanie vacated half an hour ago. I don’t even have to look up to know that it’s Hunter. I shut my laptop.
“Hey there, princess.” He grins. “Miss me?
I’m pretty sure every girl in the coffee shop is staring at me, possibly feeling the same jealousy I was feeling earlier. Weird. I straighten my posture.
“Not at all.” When his fingers aren’t in my pussy and he’s not licking my nipples, I feel a lot bolder around him.
“Ouch.” He presses a fist to his heart. “That hurts. Or it would hurt, if I didn’t know you were lying.” He smirks.
“You’re so cocky.”
“Yeah, you would know, the way you were feeling me up last weekend.”
I glare at him. “Shut up. You were the one feeling me up!”
“Yeah, and you fucking loved it. You were begging me to fuck you and take your virginity in the fucking bathroom stall.”
I flush, knowing he’s right. I cringe to recall how desperately I’d begged him. But in that moment, I’d wanted nothing more. I stuff my things into my backpack again. I really need to leave before he gets me any more flustered.
“What the fuck is that?” Hunter says suddenly.
I follow his gaze to the inside of my elbow, where I have a big bruise from my last plasma donation, when the nurse couldn’t find my vein. “It’s just a bruise.”
“A nasty fucking bruise. Did you donate blood?”
I shake my head. “Plasma.”
“Why?”
I shrug. “It helps immune-compromised people.”
“Is that your good deed of the month?”
I bite my lip. “Actually, I’m doing it for the money. The fact that it helps people is just a bonus.” I feel ashamed to admit it. It makes me sound greedy.
Hunter narrows his eyes at me. “You’re doing it for money?”
“Yes, I know, it’s so shameful.”
“I didn’t say it was shameful.”
I look at him curiously.
“I’m just wondering why you need money badly enough to donate plasma,” he explains.
“I can’t find a job. I’ve applied to dozens of places and haven’t gotten a call back from a single one.”
Hunter rubs a knuckle against his bottom lip. “Is that right?”
I nod. “I’m so frustrated because I’m not gonna make rent this month and I don’t want to put it all on my roommate Becca.
It’s not fair to her.” It feels so good to unburden myself to someone that the words come out before I can stop them.
I bite down on my lip, feeling even more ashamed than admitting that I’m only donating plasma for money.
“Anyway,” I say, unable to look him in the eye. “I need to get going to my next class.” I grab my backpack and get up hastily.
“Wait.” Hunter’s tone drags my eyes back to him. “Did I say you could leave?”
My heart thumps. “I don’t need your permission to leave.”
“Wrong, princess.” He wraps his fingers around my wrist and tugs me back down to my seat. “You need my permission to do everything.”
I should be outraged, but his words send heat racing through me. I’m so far gone.
“I’ll be late to class,” I protest half-heartedly.