Fast Car | Escapes #1

Chapter 10

Even when I was in elementary school and middle school, I never had to deal with bullies. No one ever tried to beat me up, or teased me, or anything like that. Everyone just kind of left me alone. To this day I have no idea why. 

Maybe that's why I was completely unprepared for how bad I would hurt the next day. When I got out of bed, I hurt so badly that I could barely move. My face felt stiff as I drug myself into the shower to start my day. The water burned as it ran over all the little cuts on my body. The soap stung as I cleaned off the dried blood.

When I was redressed for the day, I went to the kitchen and began to make breakfast as usual. Nothing could have ever prepared me to make breakfast for my dad that morning. It almost felt like some sort of punishment that I didn't deserve. I wanted to get away from there, to go to the store instead. But I didn't want more trouble than I already had.

Was this how Mom felt every time? But, well, she had me, I guess. She had more motive than I did to make breakfast for that man. I didn't want things to get worse, though. So I guess I had plenty of my own motive. 

My father came into the room and sat at the table as usual. I placed a plate of food in front of him, but took mine to my room. It took some time, but I managed to both eat and get ready to go somewhere. I just wasn't sure where that somewhere was. 

Work was out of the question, but I didn't want to go to school either. There wasn't anything I needed to turn in, so technically I didn't have to go. Besides, graduation was around the corner and we didn't have finals until the week before. So this whole week was basically reviews and study time. 

Well, for most kids. I actually learned. Tests were easy for me. Besides, I kept good notes, so just a cram session the night before would work for me. Besides, I had to go to the store to get my stuff if I wanted to study, but I didn't want to go there yet. I wanted to be alone and not have people ask me about what happened.

I settled on going to the library. The place I'd lied about going to, funnily enough.

When I walked out of my room, my dad was sitting in front of the TV, his morning screwdriver in hand. He sipped on it as I watched him. Since when did he look so old? His hair was going gray at the temples and his skin was beginning to wrinkle and sag. He didn't look like the man that always smiled out from the pictures on the TV stand and that hung on the walls. The difference was almost staggering. 

That's what time and living like him did to a person, though. None of us stayed young forever.

I walked silently to the front door and left. At the bus stop, I saw the same group of guys hanging around that was hanging around with Brayden. This time, though, he wasn't there to stop them. I ducked my head and hoped they wouldn't take notice of me.

"Hey pretty lady," the same guy as last time slurred. "You new around here?" He slid up next to me. He bent down and looked me in the face. "You look familiar." He slung an arm around my shoulders.

I grabbed his arm and removed it. "Don't touch me." People were beginning to gather at the stop. It was the usual crowd, and I recognized some of them. 

"Oh, come on now, little lady." He started to put his arm around me again, but I stepped away just a little. 

"Touch me again and I'm going to scream," I told him, loud enough for some people to turn my way. "I'm not in a playful mood this morning, and I won't let you do anything to me."

He clenched his teeth briefly. "I know you don't mean that," he said quietly, trying to smile at me. 

"Try me." I gave him my most deadpan look that I could muster and stared him in the eye.

His mouth opened and closed as he seemed to debate his options. Finally, he settled on, "Oh, I remember you. You're Brayden's girl."

"I'm not his girl."

He smirked. "No, I remember him saying you're his. Since you're saying you're not, how about you and me have some fun together?" He moved so he was next to me as he spoke and threw his arm around my shoulder again. 

This time I did as I said: I screamed. I opened my mouth and screamed like a girl in a horror film. He immediately let me go and backed away. I stopped and stared him down.

"Okay, okay," he said, holding up his hands as if he were taming a wild animal. "I get it. You're not down for some fun today. If you ever are, though, I can give you my number." He took out his phone and held it up. "That should be fine right?"

I turned to where the bus was pulling up and ignored his question. As I walked to the door, I heard his friends laughing at him.

---

The stares of my coworkers weighed heavy on me. Only Thelma knew where they came from, and she looked mad enough to blow. Still, no one said anything to me. I was fine with that. Their pity was the last thing I needed. 

I didn't want to look in the mirror that morning, but I did. They all saw my two black eyes and busted lip. What they couldn't see were all of the other little cuts and bruises that littered my body under my long sleeved shirt and jeans. No one needed to know about them. 

The fabric hurt everywhere it rubbed against my skin, but I grit my teeth and kept going. I put cans on the shelf and kept restocking around the store until someone grabbed my shoulder. My eyes traveled up the arm and found a concerned Brayden. His brow was furrowed as he studied my face. "What happened to you?" he asked. 

"Why does it matter?" I asked in return, more venom leaking into my voice than I intended. 

He looked a little taken aback at my words, but didn't give up. "Seriously. What happened? Did your family do this to you? You said you give the check to them. This isn't right. You know that, right? I can call someone-"

"Don't!" I closed my eyes and tried to push down the panic trying to rear its ugly head. "I mean, what happened is none of your business. Don't try to butt your head into matters now. You've made it abundantly clear you don't like me. It just makes you look even more shallow trying to find out about my life after everything that's happened."

He glanced around, seemingly looking for words. Finally, he must have found them. "I really do care about my employees, you know. I try to make sure they get taught a lesson they need to learn or take care of them in the way that benefits them because if their bodies are worn out, how can you expect them to give the job their all?"

I just looked at him for a long moment. "You have a long ways to go if that's your intention. You should have just left everything how your dad had it. He took everyone into consideration and knew their circumstances. If someone isn't making the living they need to, they're going to go to another place and try to work a second job. That's going to wear them out even faster and then what? You need to put a little more thought into what you're doing and try to figure out why your dad did what he did."

"Does that have anything to do with why you're looking like you lost a fight?"

"Tell you what." I put down the can I was holding and turned to face him. "Pay me what your dad was originally paying me, give Thelma her hours back, and make sure everyone has the pay and hours they originally had. After you do that, we'll talk."

"Done."

I shook my head. "Hold up your end of the deal first. You need to earn my trust. You completely lost it doing what you did." I held up a can. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to putting stuff on the shelves."

"You have finals coming up, right? Why don't you bring your stuff to the office and study instead. I mean, it's the least I can do. Give you a day to do what you need to do, that is."

It was tempting to take him up on his offer. Not because I needed to study, but because I was in pain. My muscles ached. Everything hurt. Still, I shook my head. I didn't want to chance my pay getting docked because I didn't put in the hours. "I'll pass. Thanks for offering." 

He sighed. "I'm putting you back on salary, so it doesn't matter what you do, does it?"

"I still don't trust you. You lost it and need to earn it back."

He chuckled and flashed me a smile. "You win."