Page 1 of Indebted

Chapter 1

Debt. With the amount piled on my shoulders, I should’ve had a better figure after carrying it around for so many years.

Or at the very least, an ass made out of steel.

Every time I thought I chipped away at it, more came to fill the hole.

But it was mine. Earned. Like the degree I was this close to getting. Like the paycheck I would cash after this shitty catering gig.

I had a plan. Major in computer science, graduate with top marks, secure a stable, well-paying job, and pay off what remained of my student loans that my financial aid didn’t cover. My good grades got me some coverage, not as much as I’d like, but I’d been making it work. I would make it on my own without anyone’s help. I’d been doing fine on my own.

Or so I’d thought.

The notification on my phone this morning still burned a hole in my pocket.

The financial office.

Your benefactor has missed a payment.

…the fuck?

My…what? I never signed up for someone to take care of me. I owned my debt. It was mine and mine alone. I would be indebted to no one.

The sudden glitch in my tuition payments kept a tight fist of anxiety around my heart. I’d already balanced all my books for the year. The payments were to be made like clockwork. I couldn’t afford interest, or to pay the brunt of my tuition. An LA blue and gold education didn’t come cheap. This wasn’t part of the plan. Payments weren’t supposed to be missed. They couldn’t be missed. Because if they were missed, then I couldn’t eat.

And I really liked to eat. How was my cookies and cream ice cream addiction supposed to fund itself?

“You’re still pissed about that benefactor thing, aren’t you?”

Silverware jumped from my hands. I caught it before it tumbled to the ground or worse, crashed into anything breakable. “Jeezus.” I glared over my shoulder.

My best friend, Zoe, flashed a grin.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked her, my head swiveling, certain my boss would not approve of me talking to one of the gala guests. “Aren’t you like, an hour early or something?”

Had I been off in my head for that long?

Zoe shrugged one delicate shoulder, her beautiful bronze skin exposed thanks to the toga type dress she wore. Jealousy bite me on the ass. Not because Zoe looked flawless, but because her clothes looked like they wouldn’t have her dying of heat stroke. I, on the other hand, had to wear closed toe shoes, socks, full length pants, and a long sleeve button up, complete with tie.

And the kicker?

All black.

Let’s not forget the August SoCal sun was an unforgiving bitch.

I was already sweating in my catering outfit.

“I’m sleuthing,” Zoe responded to my question, picking up a fork and squinting at it.

“Give me that.” I snatched it out of her hands. “What do you mean, sleuthing?”

“Your mysterious benefactor? I found out they’re part of the same philanthrope group as my stepmom.” As with any time she mentioned her stepmom, Zoe’s face scrunched up as if she’d bitten into something sour. “You know, that esteemed, alumni group?”

My stomach sank.

I liked it better when my benefactor was some faceless foreign entity in my head, like an oil rich prince who suffered from a brain aneurism and decided to donate all his money to a Southern California University, providing a free ride for all who attended.

The idea that I was beholden to someone here, at this gala where I worked for the sycophantic, stuck ups of the world, made my mouth taste like ash. Today’s fake give-a-shit cause was funding a startup clinic for low income residence in East LA. A worthy cause, if the motivation behind it had been genuine. From my experience, these gigs were all about boosting PR. And the man behind this little shindig was the owner of the large estate we were at, some plastic surgeon according to the gossip in the catering van who came from a well-known family of surgeons. I only listened with half an ear on our ride out here. I’d been too busy trying to contact the financial office. I hadn’t been able to get through. Unlike a certain someone at my side.