The Arrangement Anthology 1(3)
“You can’t live. Yeah, I get it.” She says, putting away her make-up.
“I don’t know what to do. I have a huge test on Monday and I haven’t even cracked open the book yet. Then, when the car got jacked—damn—all that I could think was that I’m going to fail the test on Monday without my book. I ran down Deer Park Avenue like a lunatic, chasing a stolen textbook.”
The bed next to me dips and I realize Mel is sitting there. “You need a new job, honey.”
“I know, but it’s the same everywhere. Nobody pays enough. I work until I drop dead at night, and I’m still eating Ramen noodles. I can’t stand it anymore.”
She pats my arm, pulling it away from my face. Her golden eyes meet mine. “Listen, I have to check in at work, take care of some paperwork for tomorrow, and do a few things. My boss is going to be there. You should come and meet her.”
I look up at her, “What? And work at a hotel?”
Mel smiles at me funnily, and nods. “Yeah, I mean, why not? It’s a good job, it pays great, and the hours are perfect. I work way less than you and make way more.”
“That was blunt.”
She stands and smoothes her dress, “You need blunt these days, Avery. You’re a mess, your car is a death trap, and you’re totally alone. A big pay check will fix some of that.”
I don’t want to go. My body aches. I’m over tired, and going out again sounds like suckage. At the same time, she’s right. Money would fix some of my problems. “Since we’re being blunt, how much are we talking about?”
“More than enough for you and all your bills. What you earn in a month, I make every weekend.” She stares at me with those tiger eyes and I dart upright on the bed.
“Are you serious?” I think Mel’s toying with me, but she nods. “What the hell do you do?”
Mel laughs and shakes her head. “Just come. Talk to my boss. If you’re a good fit, she’ll give you a job. It’s what you want, right?”
I push myself up, muttering, “You suck. Fine, I’ll come. But I was planning on spending some quality time with Amber tonight.”
Melony scoffs and says, “Yeah, right.”
CHAPTER 3
Melony drives a sporty black coupe that puts my car to shame. It stops and goes. The windows move up and down. The heater works. OMFG, the heater! I could die. I slump back into the leather when the heated seat warms up. “I could live in this car.”
“Holy hell, we need to get you off the poor train. Did you hear what you just said?” She looks over at me briefly, before returning her gaze to the road.
I nod and totally don’t care. The leather is warm and I have my head tipped back and my eyes closed. “You try living with Amber for a semester and we’ll see what crazy crap comes out of your mouth.”
“Did she lock you out again?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “She’s probably having sex with her creepy boyfriend on my couch.” I need more Lysol. I cringe thinking about it. How I ended up with such a rank roommate is beyond me. It’s like the university asked me all those questions on the roommate application thingie to see if I could manage using a pencil okay. I thought I proved that I could use a pencil when I took my SATs. Guess not.
Melony’s little car darts through traffic. We stop at a light and she looks at me. “That guy gives me the creeps.”
“Me too. It’s like her guy radar only picks out soon-to-be-felons. Listen, my nerves are so frayed, I can’t talk about Amber anymore. My frickin’ eye is twitching.” And it is. The lower right lid is going nuts, blinking for no reason. I press my finger to it, trying not to smear my make-up.
“Fine by me. So,” she changes the subject, “are you seeing anyone?”
I laugh in response, and then realize she’s really asking, “Uhm, no. With what time? If I’m not at class, I’m at work. If I’m not at work, I’m at class. I don’t even have time to sleep. Am I dating?” I say mockingly and laugh, shaking my head. My dark hair falls over my shoulders.
“Back off, Cujo. I was just asking, trying to get a feel for things.”
“What things? Things that’ll never happen this side of hell.”
“Sounding a little bitter there, Avery.”
I smile weakly at her. She’s just trying to help. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Today had to be the worst day of my life. Besides the douche that stole the car, I had the worst customer. He screamed at me forever and then went to my boss. I’m a fucking hostess. Like I have anything to do with his meal?” I press my fingers to my head and lean my elbow on the door. My job is to seat people at a steakhouse. That’s it. I have nothing to do with anything else, but this guy wouldn’t back off. He seemed to think his night was ruined because of me. By the time he got hold of the manager, somehow everything was my fault. My boss made me look like it was my fault and that sums up my night at work. Absentmindedly, I twist a lock of my hair between my fingers. “It was just one of those days and I’m sick of having them.”