Page 118
ArKane
Vera
“How much?” I asked, drunkenly swaying to the bass under the dim, flickering bathroom lights.
“Twelve, thirteen, fourteen hundred. Hell yeah!” Monica exclaimed, counting the bills again.
“You know. This would be so much easier if you would just apologize to your mom,” I said, trying to be the voice of reason as I checked my lashes in the mirror.
She snorted. “Fat chance. You know how she gets. She gets in her little moods and decides to cut my allowance. Then she has some sort of enlightenment a few weeks later and she acts like we’re best friends, and boom. I have my allowance again, plus back pay. She’s gonna be mad in 40 years when she’s at Shady Pines.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from smiling. Monica and her mother had an… unusual bond. Her mother had her at 14, and at 35 and 21, they fought like sisters instead of mother and daughter. I could’ve gone on a spirited tirade about treating her mother right because she would miss her if she were gone, but I decided to conserve my emotional energy.
“I’m seeing your mother tomorrow. Do you want me to pass a message on to her?”
“Tell her to stop being a drama queen and unblock me.”
The smile I’d attempted to suppress broke through. “Do you know how toxic you have to be that your own mother blocks you?”
“It’s me who should have blocked her. She flipped out when I told her that I was applying for an internship in Beijing.”
“Beijing is far,” I commented.
“It is, but I haven’t been studying Mandarin for five years for shits and fucking giggles.”
I bumped Monica with my hip, earning a terrifying side-eye from her. “Your mom’s just acting out because she doesn’t want her precious little baby halfway across the world.”
“Mhm,” she replied, unconvinced. “You good to go again?”
“Hell no. My arms feel like they’re about to fall off. Fuck. At this point, I’ll just give you the money.”
“Alright. Alright. You did good tonight,” she said, handing me a wad of bills.
“Three hundred? That’s it?”
“That’s three hundred more than you came here with.”
I stuffed the money into my fanny pack. “You’d make a horrible pimp,” I declared, leaving the bathroom.
Monica and I squeezed through the crowd shoulder-first, and somebody nearly elbowed me in the face trying to dance like they were fighting demons. The warehouse smelled like sweat, perfume, body odor, and alcohol—a deadly combination that was quickly making me change my mind about staying longer just to play Hide and Go Get It with Hart.
Monica tucked the stack of cash deeper into her bra and yelled, “I’m starving! I’m not responsible for my behavior if I don’t get nachos within the hour.”
“Heard!”
I scanned the crowd for my man, but unfortunately for me, I made direct eye contact with Luke. Beside him stood a petite brunette with long, wispy hair who was practically folded into his side. He started toward us, dragging the poor girl behind him.
Monica chuckled. “Keep it cute, Vera.”
“Always,” I said tiredly.
“Vera. Monica. Meet my girl, Hailey,” he yelled over the bass, gesturing proudly to the brunette.
I smiled at her politely. “Nice to meet you, Hailey! That dress looks awesome on you!”
For a moment, Hailey was taken off guard. “Thanks! You too!”
Luke’s face soured like he’d bitten into a lemon. He had banked on me being jealous and bitter, but he was doing exactly what I wanted him to do: Move the fuck on.
