“I didn’t realize you’d still be awake, it’s two o’clock in the morning. Did anything happen with Jamie?”
“Yes, his room caught on fire, and while we were running outside to escape, a copperhead bit him on the ankle. Also, he has mono. I just thought it best not to call and tell you any of that.”
I rolled my eyes skyward, praying to the ceiling constellations for patience. This woman was lucky I owed her, or I would’ve sat right on her face. “So why are you still up? Music muse?”
“Something like that.” She toyed with the pen, pressing the end button in a rhythmic tune. “I slept for a little bit but woke up hungry. I came out here for some Oreos and an idea for a song hit me. So here we are.”
“If you give a Layla a cookie.”
“Ugh, you’re such a mom.”
I plopped down on the floor, letting my head fall back to rest against her thigh and exhaled heavily, I was so ready to pass out. “Really, though, did he behave?”
“Yeah, of course. We had a great time. He missed you though. He beat some time record on Rainbow Road and turned to tell you before remembering you weren’t home.”
My heart fell, straight through my feet, the floor, the ground, the goddamn planet itself. Layla could’ve shot me, and it wouldn’t have torn a gaping hole in my chest as savagely as those words did.
It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, of me disappointing him. He learned to hide it more now that he was older, but I knew he wished I was home on the weekends.
No matter what I did, what choices I made, I always lost. If I only worked one job, we’d be homeless. If I worked two jobs, we’d be back sharing a one-bedroom apartment. If I worked three jobs, I could finally provide my child with a home, but at the cost of our time together.
Sometimes I wondered if the person who first said money can’t buy happiness ever knew what it was like to be poor. To struggle. Did he or she ever have to take a calculator to the store just to find a way to afford a month of groceries?
Inspirational quotes weren’t made for those of us living near the bottom. They were made for people at the top to feel better about their privileges. To tease us bottom dwellers that if we tried harder, reached farther, or if we just learned to appreciate what we currently have and not what we could have, we could be just as happy and content as them.
It was bullshit wrapped in fancy words and a flowery background to overpower the stench. The world wasn’t made for us losers to win. The best we could do was simply finish the game unscathed.
Chapter Seven
I’d lost my mind. I stood in front of my mirror, staring down at my body. A gray button down tucked into black slacks, and a giant, gaudy security badge stared back at me. I’d even been given a flashlight and pepper spray to attach to my belt. Freaking pepper spray.
The only thing that made me feel the slightest bit better was even though I may have been stupid enough to accept this job, Jim Grayson was even more stupid for asking me. Nothing against female guards, women could rock any damn thing they set their mind to. I just wasn’t one of those women.
Throwing a sweater over my uniform, I snatched the scuffed, black shoes I’d worn the night before and stumbled out of my room. Saturday morning was the only day during the week I got to sleep in, but due to this training shift, I’d only been able to steal four measly hours. Taking this shift had me questioning all my life choices.
Thankfully, there’d been zero moaning sounds through my bedroom wall, so I’d at least been able to crash in my own room. They’d either already finished their business by the time I fell face first onto my mattress, or they were especially good at keeping quiet. Even still, I was feeling grumpy.
I made a pit stop at Jamie’s door, cracking it open and peering inside, “Psst, Jamie.” I rapped my knuckles lightly on the wood, “Morning, rise and shine.” Sheets rustled, and I could make out the lump of his body twisting on the bed. He mumbled an incoherent sentence.