Three

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   When Charlie and James come over there's seldom a happy ending. The two of them are friends of Gabriel. They're just like him in every way, going about mimicking his drunken phase. I find both men disgusting considering the way they openly trail their eyes down the length of my body. Of course, neither of them has ever tried anything.

   Hopefully, it stays that way.

All three men seem to consume great pleasure in making my life a living hell. Gabriel has granted them the authority to put their hands on me when I don't do whatever they say when they say to do it. I mostly do things like fixing them food or going down to the liquor store and stealing a couple of beers when they can't afford to. I hate stealing. The owner of the liquor store is quite old. It is unfair to steal from someone. It makes it worse when they're defenseless. They bestow such dangerous tasks on me because they don't have the guts to do it themselves.

When I walk in Gabriel and James are engaged in a competitive round of some kind of card game. I bet they're so drunk they don't even remember what game they're playing or the rules to it. Ugh. I'm still waiting on the day Gabriel decides to sober up for good and finally decide to be a father again. I don't remember much but I miss the days when I was proud to call Gabriel my dad. We never had much money but we sure knew how to make the best of it and our time together. I meant something to him once upon a time.

I greet the two males who slumped over the table. Charlie is in the bathroom. Neither man acknowledge my presence so I slither away to my room. My room may be empty aside from my bed and a tiny dresser but it's a safe place and I don't have too many of those nowadays. Sad but true. I'd give anything to have a normal life. I want to fit in with the other kids at my school as badly as I want to breathe.

A couple of days have passed and nothing's changed. Not that I expected anything to. My life is complete and uttermost crap and always has been and always will be complete and uttermost crap. I hate my life so much. It frustrates me to my core that such a lifestyle was placed heavily upon me.

Today is Friday and all of the normal kids are out hanging with their friends while I'm stuck working a low-paying job. Burger King is going to be filled with hungry teenagers in less than an hour. The world seems to come alive on Fridays. I wish I knew what it felt like to hang out with friends on a Friday night, maybe even go on a date.

My face molds into a scowl as I think about that. I'll probably never go on a date. Guys don't usually want to jump my bones when they see me. More like wanting to throw up. Okay, maybe a little dramatic but you get the picture.

I feel a small tap on my shoulder. "Why the sad look." My heartbeat picks up and my palms are suddenly drenched in sweat. I look up to see the guy from a couple of nights ago, the one that stood up for me. Mason, he tells me his name is. I assure him that the scowl I had on my face is just my natural look. He responds with a joke that makes me laugh, followed by him telling me I should smile more because I have a beautiful smile. He tells me to have a nice day then goes to order his food. I can't believe he was talking to me.

That must be a part of some sick joke he and his friends are playing on me. It is not like I haven't had it happen before. He probably bet his boys twenty bucks he would sleep with me. The last time it happened it was five dollars but his friends look like they have money to blow.

After sweeping up the trash I put it in a large garbage bag and leave to place it in the dumpster across the street. It is dark out so I'm more aware of my surroundings. I wouldn't want to die while my life is so crappy. That would suck. I diminish those thoughts, pull the lid up on the trash can, throw the trash bag inside and close it back up.

"Hey," I scream loud as I'm taken aback by the sudden interruption in the quiet night. I'm ready to take off running when Mason assures me it's only him, apologies for scaring me, and I eventually calm down. He waits calmly before starting up a conversation. "I couldn't keep my eyes off you the entire time I was in there. You're beautiful," he begins rather smoothly.

I don't care how smooth he is. I'm not buying it.

Rolling my eyes I brush past him. "Look you can tell your friends you did whatever to me and I won't object. Just stop trying to play me like a fool." I'm so tired of people cheating me like I don't have feelings. Like I'm dumb enough to fall for some stupid crap they're trying to feed me. I hate being bullied. I hate not being able to defend myself.

"Olivia wait!"

Annoyed, "leave me alone. I've had enough humiliation in my life so far to last me three lifetimes. Be upfront with me and tell me the real reason you came over here."

"I told you, you're beautiful." He says this as if I should already know how beautiful I am. Like he suspects I've heard it every day since I came out of my mother's womb. "I can already tell you haven't been dealt the best end of the stick. Olivia, I wouldn't say it if it weren't true. I'm a grown man. I don't need to impress my boys."

He seems genuine when he says this.

I don't know if I buy it. I want to. I want to believe a guy as sexy as Mason would want anything to do with me. I'm not something to look at and be proud of. Gabriel said so. I know what guys like; thick girls with long hair, light skin, expensive clothing. They want a girl that all the guys want badly and the girls want to be.

Someone like Bianca Anderson. She fits the criteria perfectly. As if she couldn't be more perfect she has blue eyes!

"Can you just leave me alone?" I'm not giving him a choice on the matter. Though he seems to take it that way.

"How about you put your number in my phone?"

"No." My answer has somewhat to do with the fact that I don't even have a phone. I can't afford it.

"Okay. You can have mine."

He pulls out a card and places it in my hand. He then runs a hand down the length of my cheek. My knees feel weak when he does that. No guy has ever done that.

That night I go to sleep recalling the beautiful numbers on the card. Numbers have never looked so beautiful.

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