As her heart slowed, she stared at the stain on the beige carpet that ironically resembled the state of Texas.
Pushing away from the door, she crossed the short distance to the kitchenette. She emptied her back pockets, then sat to count out her tips from the night. In the beat-up red spiral notebook, she recorded her income neatly and added it to her current balance of twenty-seven dollars and fifty-four cents. She checked off two things Casey would need for school and added three more.
If she was careful, if she stretched every penny, Casey would start the year with everything she needed. She was good at stretching pennies, she thought with a smile. And Casey didn’t need everything, no child did, but she needed enough and she needed the security of knowing that she would have it.
Her daughter would never lie in a cold bed at night and worry about angry, unpaid landlords or being the one kid in the class who held back the others from a special prize because she didn’t bring in that poster board or pumpkin or flower. Which is why kissing an incredibly hot man was not on her to-do list.
The last of the warm fuzzies from Jake’s kiss slipped away and the real world slid in. She shook her head and did what she always did when uncertainty crept in. She worked. She did something to get where she wanted to go. That’s the only thing that settled her fears about their future. Tonight it was studying for her college history class.
She managed a full thirty minutes before visions of Jake snuck in. Jake McKinney. Just thinking his name sent a hot shiver through her. Would she see him when she took Casey back to Evolution? Maybe not, but she probably should have mentioned that. Before they kissed would have been good. Would he have kissed her if he’d known? Did it matter? She tried to picture him coming back into the diner now, sitting in her section, their eyes meeting while she refilled his drink.
She hadn’t been kissed by a man in exactly five years and nine months. She’d been a week away from her graduation gown and a summer away from her new life. Dressed in jeans and sneakers, she’d left her tiny bedroom.
Eddie, her mom’s current boyfriend, smiled at her from the couch. “Hey, sugar. Hot date?”
“Not really. Just going out.” Eddie was nice enough, in a car-salesman, comb-over kind of way. And he made her mom happy. For now.
Her mom flittered around him, the scent of her perfume filling the small space. She had to give her mom points for effort.
“I’m gonna go. Bye, Mama.” She kissed her cheek and headed out.
Paige walked through the dark to the front entrance of her trailer park where Gary would pick her up. A mature twenty to her eighteen, Gary was a smooth talker. They’d been out twice before. He said all the right things, did some of the right things.
She ran her fingers through her hair and peered up at the dark Texas sky. One day she’d leave this town, look up at the sky from a different city, maybe even a different continent. That day was getting closer and closer.
The low rumble of Gary’s refurbished Thunderbird announced his arrival, and she slid in beside him.
“Hey, baby.” He leaned over and kissed her, the scent of cigarettes clinging to him reminded her of home, but nobody was perfect.
Especially not her.
The music in the bar had been loud, the smoke heavy. There were a few people she knew, but it was mostly Gary’s friends. She’d liked that too, being with a different, older group. She didn’t especially like to feel out of control, but she had a couple of drinks over the next few hours, just loosening up. But after that the night got kind of blurry.
Feeling a little wild and a bit numb, she agreed to go to Gary’s car. They made out in the front seat awhile, kissing and a little groping. It was her idea to move it to the backseat. Now flat on her back, she didn’t feel so good.
“Gary, I’m gonna be sick.”
“No, you’re not.”
The weight of his body on top of hers and the smell of his breath weren’t helping. He stuck his tongue in her mouth, and she concentrated hard on not being sick. Had she really had that much to drink? She hated throwing up.
She barely felt his groping hand on her breast, but she heard his moans, heard him say she was so hot. She braced her hands behind her to get some relief from the backseat door handle digging into the top of her head.
The backspins were worse. She needed to sit up. “Gary, I’m gonna throw up.”
“Shh.” She felt the tug on her jeans, heard the distant sound of a zipper.
“Wait.” She couldn’t even tell if she said it out loud over the blood pounding in her ears, everything felt far away. The sharp pain between her legs jerked her back. He was inside her, grunting, his hot beer breath at her ear.