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Nova pressed the button to turn on her four way hazard lights. There had been too many stories lately of people pulling into the wrong driveway only to be met with a bullet to the head by some overzealous homeowner thinking some bad guy was there to harm them. And in this neighborhood, everyone had guns. Not just a gun, but guns.
Next to her on the passenger seat sat a brown paper bag with grease spots on the bottom and sides. The SUV stunk of freshly fried fries and the hint of warm onions, which were on the burgers.
This wasn’t the plan. The path. The purpose. Nova really didn’t know anyone who had a path and had it work out.
For her, it had seemed so clear and cut. From the time she won an award for writing in first grade, that was it. Be a writer. Tell stories. Doesn’t require anything but time, effort, tons of skill, and some luck. Nova figured with a life dealt in nonsense luck, this would be the thing that would work out.
She reached for the greasy bag of food with and with her left hand she reached for her phone. Running food orders at night definitely never appeared on her radar. At least not until her rent doubled in the post pandemic era of life and her mother received a lovely notice that she was going to lose her house if she didn’t pay up, and fast.
(Nova’s mother—the forever waitress who loved to complain—took the pandemic shutdowns as a time to kick back, relax, and not worry about much. Except that life, time, bills, money, and all that still marched forward. In other words, Nova’s mother buried herself in a mountain of debt nobody should ever have at any age.)
Nova opened her squeaky door and climbed out. She approached the house with caution, trying not to point out the collection of car parts on the front lawn. Or the rusted tools. Or a tire that had been filled with dirt, with flowers that were bone dry and dead. Christmas lights loosely hung from the crooked gutter. The white wires stained green from years of neglect.
Nova never judged a person by their house. That’s how she grew up. The dirty house. The scummy house. Kids teasing her that her house was haunted by some bums who were going to steal her teeth to use as their own. The smell of cat pee and mold still lingered in her head.
Once on the porch, Nova glanced down at the welcome mat.
IF U CAN READ THIS FUCK OFF
Nova placed the bag of food down. All she needed to do now was take a quick picture, close out the delivery and get the hell out of there. However, as soon as one order ended, another would certainly pop right up.
Just as Nova readied to take the picture, the door opened. There stood a tall guy with a sleeveless white shirt and blue basketball shorts. With a gun tucked into the front of his waistband. Greasy hair that was sort of long clung to his head and parts of his face. He smiled and had tons of gold in his mouth.
“Damn, sister, do you come with the meal?”
Nova let out a nervous laugh. “Hope you enjoy.”
“I’ll enjoy it even more eating this off your lower back, sister. Tell you where I want to dip the fries too…”
Nova took a step back.
The creepy guy touched his gun. “Where you running off to? Did I say you can leave?”
“I have to go to the next order,” Nova said. “They… track me…”
A lie. But maybe it would scare the guy.
“I get it,” the guy said. “That’s cool. Gotta at least show me those tits though, huh? I’ll toss in a bigger tip for you.”
“No thanks,” Nova said.
She quickly snapped a picture of the bag of food and hurried off the porch. It was stupid putting her back to the guy. He could have easily jumped out and grabbed her. She felt safer once she was back in her vehicle and driving away from the house.
Three blocks away she pulled over to catch her breath.
She checked her phone and couldn’t believe her eyes.
“That dirt ball prick,” she whispered.
The guy went into the app and changed his tip to zero dollars. Nova shut her eyes and fought off the urge to cry. Her phone dinged with another order offer. She accepted it.
Then her phone started to ring. It was her mother calling. At this hour?
“Mom?”
“Nicky! I can’t find Nicky anywhere!”
She heard her mother’s voice slurring. A night off from work and that’s what her mother does.
