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I grab my purse from under the counter. “Is it supposed to get bad tonight?”
She nods, grabbing some plates to deliver.
And is it already Friday? My life has become such a routine that days aren’t different anymore—a monotonous blur between days and nights. The only exception is Friday nights when I play bingo with the forty-plus crowd. Everyone else my age hangs out at On the Rocks bar. I bet Ann will be there, flaunting that she has morphed from an ugly duckling into a beautiful, successful swan. I’d kind of enjoy seeing the spectacle with all the has-beens still living here. Since she left the diner, and after I got over the initial envy, I realized I was actually happy for her. However, tonight, with a storm brewing, I’d rather stay home, too.
As I walk through the gloomy night, ominous clouds threaten rain during the wettest April we’ve had in years. My mind drifts to the plans I once had when I left the Stonemeyers’ house and the idealistic notion of going to college so my mom would’ve been proud of me and then getting a career as a flight attendant.
This orphaned little girl wanted to see the world.
And not be trapped in the very town that took my parents. I hate this place. I hate the memories. Every day, I walk three extra blocks to avoid the stoplight the drunk asshole ran when he collided with my parents’ car head-on. To see the exact spot where they suffered while they hung from their seat belts in their upside-down car, bleeding from their fatal injuries, makes me want to vomit each time I pass it.
If only I had a car to escape this stifling town. Instead, I’m stuck waitressing at the local diner, making enough to scrape by, never enough to move forward. For four years, I’ve saved every extra penny I’ve made in the hope of leaving this town. It isn’t much, but soon I might have enough to buy a used car that probably has a million miles on it. Most people who work corporate jobs commute to Austin. My options in town for jobs were limited.
On my way home, I notice the gas station’s G in their large GAS sign flickering above the store. I pause, debating if I could splurge a little tonight. A pint of ice cream won’t put a huge dent in my budget, and of course, it’ll make me feel a lot better. Since I’m not going to bingo, it’ll be a wash. Decision made.
The door’s bell jingles, and Henry, the owner’s son, peeks his head around an aisle and grins. “Hey Kali. Surprised to see you here tonight.” When I say we live in a small town, I wasn’t kidding. Everyone knows what everyone does.
I point outside. “A storm and a crappy day makes Kali a boring girl. Nothing ice cream won’t help.”
“I get off in an hour. Want some company?”
Occasionally, we hang out, but lately I’m worried his feelings have changed toward me. I like us being friends, and that’s it. “Not tonight, I’ve had the worst day and want to go to bed early,” I murmur as I stroll toward the freezer section. He’s a cute guy, in a big bear kind of way. He was once the town’s prized high school linebacker, who unfortunately had to have reconstructive knee surgery during his senior year, and he decided to stay to help his parents with their business after high school. With the sweetest demeanor, it’s hard not to like Henry. But that we’ve known each other since childhood makes it awkward. He knows my entire life history, and his mom still sees me as the homeless child from fourteen years ago—the town’s charity case. I’m hoping his interest will fade and we can go back to being buddies.
He’s already waiting for me behind the counter when I plop down the pint of cherry ice cream. He scans it and puts it in a plastic bag. “That’ll be three forty-four.” I dig out my five-dollar bill, and when I lift my eyes, they land on a bright lottery ticket ad. For a brief second, I think, what if?
What are the chances? One in five million? There’s still one, right? How about it, God? Maybe do me this one solid?
“Kali?”
I shake out of my plea with God and find Henry holding his hand out for my money. Not giving it another thought, I blurt out, “I’ll take a lottery ticket, too.”
It’s only a dollar. I spend five of them every week at Bingo, and I’ve never won there, but I keep doing it. His brow shoots up. “I have a better shot at taking you on a date than you winning. You know that, right?”
I laugh. “I won’t hold my breath if you don’t hold yours.”
He snorts, and his cheeks burn red, making me chuckle. “I swear you would’ve grown out of that.” He curses under his breath once and hands me my change and lottery ticket. “It’s still cute, though.”
He wags his bushy brows. “You think I’m cute?”
“Good night, Henry.”
With only two blocks to home, I speed walk, both to prevent the ice cream from melting and to escape the looming rain shower threatening to drench me. I cross the train tracks, hoping the lightning stays distant. Heavy brush lines both sides of the street, and with my luck today, a bolt would strike a tree and land on my head. The pressure in the air gives me a headache, or maybe it’s thinking about Pearl’s words from earlier.
“It might be a bigger stone than what others face, but you’ll climb it, and when you come out on the other side, you’ll be better for it.” Am I better for it, though? When I think about the successful escapees of Blackburn, it’s hard not to succumb to the pangs of failure I feel regularly. “But remember, storms pass, and the sun will shine on you.”
How I wish the sun would shine on me tomorrow.
The fresh scent of rain from last night and the gentle, cool breeze tousles my hair as I stroll through the apartment parking lot. Today is already better. I can feel it. I draw in a deep inhale, letting Mother Nature wash away any lingering bad vibes. I kick my foot up and smile at my bleaching skills.
Blood is gone, and they live another day.
As I turn the corner, the normally empty gas station parking lot is filled to the max with commotion. A crowd gathers in front of the store, with the only two squad cars in town parked to the right. I squint my eyes to read the side of one van. Channel Eight News. Oh, my god. Henry. What if someone robbed him? Or worse, shot him because he tried to fight them off? He would do that. But then he walks out the front door of the store with excitement on his face, alongside his family. Cheers erupt, and I let out a breath.
What the heck is going on?
I peek down at my watch and groan. I can’t be late two days in a row. What am I worried about? I’ll get the scoop the second I enter the diner. Sure enough, the restaurant buzzes with excitement.
“What’s happening?” I ask Steve, the line cook today, as I tie an apron around my waist.
