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And who’s your type? a little voice sneers in the back of my mind. A girl you won’t even kiss? A girl you’re dying to have but can’t.
“Women bothering you again?” Jonah says, the other bartender. Well, the real bartender. I’m more of a bar-back. “Poor guy, with all the girls falling all over you. Fucker.”
He likes to razz me about it, a hint of bitterness showing through sometimes. He doesn’t like me being, as he calls it, a “chick-magnet.”
I bet that was him before I got this job beside him.
“You can have them,” I tell him, like every time.
“Choose one. Go for it. They’re pretty chicks.”
Not to me, they aren’t. Whenever I think of girls, there’s only one face in my mind—freckled, with green eyes, a full mouth, an oval framed by red curls.
I’m fucked. I knew that from the day I met Sydney. Nothing has changed.
“You really aren’t into girls? How about we get you some boys to have fun with?”
“Fuck off,” I hiss, my breathing picking up, my heart starting to race.
“Touched a nerve?” Jonah laughs, delighted, as I stalk away from the bar, trying to control myself.
Not to throw a punch in his smug face.
Not to throw up.
In the back room, I take deep breaths. Fuck you, Jonah. Fuck you, world. You won’t win. I won’t let you, I won’t.
But every day feels like a defeat, every touch is pain, every thought is hell, and no matter how fucking hard I’m fighting it, I wonder how much longer I’ll last before it crushes me to the ground.
“How’s things?” Sophie asks me as I wipe down the counter.
My new morning job is at a small movie theater, where I man the counter during matinees and also mop and clean. What can I say? I’m a jack of all trades. Whatever pays the rent. Kash can’t keep paying for all of us.
“Hey, Soph. Same old. How about you?”
“Oh I’m fine.” She grins and grabs the rag from my hand, wiping down the rest of the counter. “I did the nails of a lady so old she must have dated Noah. But now she has the most amazing nails you ever saw, courtesy of yours truly. I bet she’ll land a hunk in no time.”
I snort. “Life-changing nails?”
“Sexy nails.”
Sophie works next door in a beauty salon, doing nails and studying beauty magazines. One day she wants to open her own shop.
She’s undemanding. Friendly. She’s content to talk sometimes, and nothing more, even if everyone here thinks we’re an item.
“You look happy,” she says.
I shrug. “It’s a quiet morning.”
The truth is that life is pretty good right now. Living with Syd and Kash is cool, even though leaving school was a hard choice.
Well, not much of a choice, really, not unless I wanted dear old dad to come after me. But hey, beggars can’t be choosers, and I’d beg to stay where I am now.
And the days are good, mostly. Bright. Peaceful. If I manage to avoid thinking about the nights, I’m peachy.
“You said you work another job nights?”
“Yeah.”
