I crawled into bed, hoping to calm down enough to sleep, but my nerves were on edge. Every creak in the floor or the wind rattling against the windows had me wide awake again.
By three in the morning, I knew sleep would evade me for the rest of the night. I’d never be able to sleep in a place I no longer felt safe. I climbed out of bed and got dressed. If I wasn’t going to sleep, I could at least start packing. It would make it that much easier in the morning. Even if I didn’t find a place, I refused to come back here.
By the time the first rays of sun peeked through my bedroom windows, my entire bedroom was packed into the two suitcases I owned. The kitchen had a few dishes and such, nothing I couldn’t pack into a couple of cardboard boxes from the hardware store, but I still had a few hours before they opened.
Grabbing my laptop from my school bag, I sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. There had to be a place close, where the rent wasn’t too high. It took me a while but by the time everything opened, I had a few places to check out.
***
Apartment hunting was easier than I expected. Besides having to wipe out half of the money in my savings, which was a setback, I’d managed to find something with a decent rent in a safe neighborhood, the only issue being it was a one-bedroom place, meaning a roommate was out of the question.
This left me pounding the pavement, looking for a new job. I stopped in a few stores and filled out applications. The problem was I’d still need to keep my job in the clothing boutique to make enough money. Waitressing was the key. In a good place, tip money alone should be enough. That was when I remembered the sports bar Ray had brought me to a few months back. He’d left the waitress a pretty large tip, and that had been on a night in the middle of the week.
Even in the middle of the day, the parking lot was packed. The lighting inside was dim to accommodate the large screen TVs covering the walls and a variety of different games played. A sea of jerseys filled the room.
The one thing I’d forgotten when remembering the size of Ray’s tip was the short outfits worn by all of the female servers. One waitress bent over and I could practically see her ass cheeks hanging out, but until I was done with school and could get a job at a hospital or doctor’s office, I needed to take whatever job could pay the bills. If my ass had to be on display, at least maybe I’d get some good tips out of it.
Pulling my attention away from the waitress, I walked up to the bar and asked for the manager.
“What can I help you with?”
I turned to find a man standing behind me. He was tall, his long blond hair pulled into a ponytail at his nape.
“Yeah, I’m looking for a job.”
He looked me up and down. “Have you worked in a bar before?”
“No, but I’ve waited tables and I’m a quick learner.”
“Let me grab you an application from my office to fill out.” His eyes lingered on my chest a little too long. “But I think you’ll fit in fine, as long as you can handle the drunks and tables.”
“I can.” It should have creeped me out, the way he was looking at me, and if I hadn’t been desperate for a better paying job to finish school, I might have been outright pissed off at the way he wanted me to use my body. But I took a deep breath and remembered that in a few years this would all be a memory. I’d graduate and get paid to do what I loved. Until then, I needed to earn.
I followed him down a back hall to a small office. It held a desk with receipts, books, and paperwork everywhere. In front of the desk sat two chairs. The guy reached his hand out to me. “By the way, my name’s Jason.”
I took his hand. “Tess. Thanks for giving me a chance.”
He smirked. “Well, you do fit the part. Here’s the application. You can use my desk while I get you a uniform. When can you start?”
“As soon as possible. I work in a clothing boutique downtown, but I don’t work many hours there. If I can make enough here, I’ll leave there.”
“You’ll make enough.”
There was something in his eyes, but I didn’t know the man so I couldn’t tell what it might mean, even though it gave me an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. But the important thing here was money. If I couldn’t stand one guy ogling me, how on earth would I cope when the bar was packed with drunk people. I brushed it off, gave him my sizes, and filled out the paperwork.
By the time I left, I was all set to start in two days. At least they didn’t have me starting on the weekend. It had been a while since I’d worked in a restaurant—since I left home, actually. It had been my first real job and I’d earned enough money there to keep me off of the streets. Eventually, I moved on. I wanted a job that would help me save for college. None of that mattered now.