Sean still doesn’t know what I endured. He just knows I’ve been through some stuff. He says in time, I’ll trust him enough to completely let my guard down. I hope that’s true.
Obviously, I have no family — good fucking riddance. I consider everyone I ever knew in Hamilton dead to me. The whole town could burn to the ground with everyone in it, and I wouldn’t bat an eye.
I sometimes wish I knew my father’s family. I wondered if he knew I existed, maybe my life would have been different; if he would have been able to save me.
I wonder if his family would have accepted me even though my mother is white. Or would they taunt and reject me like my mother and her family did?
I like to pretend they would have loved me. That somebody would have actually wanted me.
The last customer finally leaves the diner, and I lock the door behind them while Trish cashes out the register.
“I’ll lock up Trish if you want to take off,” I’ll tell the sweet old waitress.
I can’t believe she still has to work at her age. I always tell myself that if I’m ever in a position where I can help her, I will. I mean it. She’s so sweet to me.
“You’re sure honey? My dogs are tired. I’d like to make it home before they fall off,” she lightly jokes.
I look into her ocean blue colored eyes surrounded by permanent creases. My eyes take in her deep wrinkles and silver hair, telling the tale of life’s unkindness and proving time waits for no one. The glimpse of my likely future is almost suffocating.
Breathe.
I take in a small cleansing breath shaking off my fear of stagnancy. “Of course, I’m sure,” I assure her. “Now get out of here. I’ll finish this up.”
“I think I’ll take you up on that tonight dear. Thank you so much,” She says appreciatively.
“It’s all good Trish,” I say with a shrug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow honey.”
She gives me a grateful wave from the other side of the glass as I lock the door again behind her.
I get the tables cleaned up and collect the money to drop off at the bank for deposit. Then I make my way to the bank in my 2002, white Toyota Camry. It’s a piece of shit, but it’s mine. I earned it, and I’m grateful for it every day when it starts.
Once the deposit is dropped in the overnight box, I head home to my apartment. There’s no class tonight since the night school teacher had some sort of an emergency or another. They had no one to fill in for him, so the class was canceled, and for once, I get to go home early.
I park my car in my usual spot at the complex. Before I get out, I pull out my phone, figuring I'll call Sean since I have a little time for once, and see if he wants to come over to hang out.
I dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. I’m a little disappointed he didn’t answer, but I decided to go up to shower and change then try calling him again.
I open my car door, stepping out into the crisp night air, then head up the stairs to my apartment.
Unlocking the door, I’m met with complete darkness which is odd. Sophie’s usually here blasting music or binge-watching whatever reality show she’s into since she doesn’t go into work until really late. There’s no light shining through the crack of her bedroom door either.
Maybe she picked up an earlier shift at the club tonight.
I’m a little happy for a bit of peace. Sophie’s my best friend, I guess, but she can be intense.
I drop my stuff by the front door and flip on the light switch. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I decide to get ahead on some reading from my class.
I head down the hall to my room with my water and an apple in hand. When I pass Sophie’s room, I hear a faint moan.
Startled, I stop in my tracks to listen. Not because I’m nosey but because I thought I was alone in the apartment and want to make sure it’s my roommate in there and not some psycho waiting to gut me.
After a moment or two, the sounds coming from the room become more distinct. Sophie doesn’t do relationships so I speculate that she must have met someone at the club…Or she has a “client”. It wouldn’t be the first time. She doesn’t make a habit of it, but if one of the clubs high rollers offers the right dollar amount, she makes exceptions, if you know what I mean…Again, no judgment from me.
Satisfied that it is my roommate and not a serial killer, I shake my head and continue to my room with my snack.
When I reach the door to my room, I hear an all too familiar voice coming from the other side of where I was just eavesdropping. I pause for a moment before walking backward to be just in front of the door where I heard his voice.
Sean?
It sounds an awful lot like the man that’s supposed to be my boyfriend. I hold my breath listening closely for the confirmation I need.
“Take that baby…You like that? Lift your leg for me…”
“Yes! Right there! Oh, Sean! Don’t stop!”
I’m paralyzed. Too stunned to move.
Still not wanting to believe my very own ears of what I know to be true, I place my hand on the knob of the door that will reveal the betrayal taking place on the other side of it.
I let all the air out of my lungs but don’t draw another in. I hold my breath as I quietly turn the knob. When it starts turning, proving it not to be locked, I fling the door open, swinging so hard, it dents the drywall behind it from the force exerted.
I take in the scene I expected. And even though I had expected it, the betrayal still stings. More so from Sophie than Sean. I’ve never had any real friends, and she was supposed to be mine.
I start to get dizzy since I haven’t released the breath I’m still holding.
Gia. Breathe, I internally tell myself. I finally inhale allowing air to enter my lungs, easing the burning that had started.
Sophie notices me first.
“Sean!” she exclaims frantically patting him on the shoulder. He turns around quickly, pulling the sheet tight around his lower half, careful not to expose what was supposed to be for my eyes only, at least, while we were kicking it.
“What are you doing here, Gigi?” He asks me.
“Well, you know Sean, I live here. The question is what are you doing here?” I ask. I’m proud of how calm my voice is right now when all I want to do is scream and claw their eyes out.
“I…Um…Damn Gigi! I’m sorry,” he says scrambling for words, while Sophie silently looks back and forth between us.
“She was just here, and you and I…We barely have se-”
I see where this is going.
I hold my hand up to stop whatever pathetic excuse he’s about to give. I don’t care enough to listen to it.
“You know what? Don’t bother trying to explain. I don’t want to hear it anyway,” I say.
I turn my back on the traitorous duo making my retreat. I hear them scurrying about, presumably to put on clothes. Before I can make it to my room to start collecting my things, Sophie catches me by the elbow in an attempt to stop me.
“Gia wait.” I spin around, pulling my arm out of her grasp. When I look, I see my so-called friend only dressed in her bra and panties, still in an obvious state of disarray. It makes me sick, and the urge to punch her in her pretty little face is strong.
“Wait for what Sophie? You want to know something? I don’t even care about him. To hell with him. It was getting stale anyway,” I say cutting my eyes towards my ex.
I return to my task at hand; packing my bag. That’s the one good thing about not having shit. I can make a quick clean getaway.
“But you Sophie,” I continue, “You were supposed to be my friend,” I say to her.
“Oh, get real Gia! We’ve never really been friends. You’re delusional. All you do is go to work and school. You never want to go out and party or have any fun. You’re boring. That’s why your man wanted to kick it with me in the first place,” she spits out viciously.<
br />
Her words cut me, but I do my best to appear unaffected. “Sophie, all that means is that he was wasting two minutes of your time instead of mine,” I say pushing past her.
She doesn’t acknowledge my snarky comment and instead keeps ripping into me, following me down the hall, quickly catching up, and coming to stand in front of me. Apparently, she has things she needs to get things off her chest, so I let her. “I’ve been carrying your ass since I moved in here. We’re roommates. That’s it. Don’t make our relationship into something it’s not. We. Are. Not. Friends.”
I shake my head in disbelief. This is coming completely out of left field. She’s telling herself whatever she has to so she can justify her actions.
We were never really friends? That’s tough to hear. Am I really that delusional? Maybe I am.
How is it that I’m unfortunate enough that nobody in this world wants me? Not the family I was born into, my pathetic excuse of a boyfriend, or my so-called best friend.
Sophie is a beautiful girl. She stands before me all tall and green-eyed. Her golden hair cascades down her bare creamy shoulders. Sean’s only a man. I can see how he’d fall prey to her physically.
But inside, she has an ugly spirit. She’s always been a cold bitch since I’ve known her. However, this is the first time her hatefulness has been directed towards me. You’d almost think I was the one that pretended to be her friend and fucked her man.
“Roommates. That’s it? Well, now we’re not even that anymore. You two have fun.”
I brush past her, bumping her with my shoulder fighting the urge to throttle her. I manage to refrain. It’s not like I loved him. He’s not worth it. She’s not worth it.
I stop just in front of the suddenly mute Sean with my hand on the door. “I think it goes without saying, but we’re done.”
I walk out with my bag on my shoulder without a second glance. They can both go to hell.
Chapter 2
Gia
“Thanks for letting me crash, Quinn,” I tell my friend from night school.
“It’s no problem. You want to talk about what happened?” She asks from her kitchen.
“Not really,” I sigh.
“Fine,” she says reentering the room. She hands me a cup of some concoction masquerading as hot chocolate. According to her, it’s supposed to make me feel better. The oversized cup is overflowing with whipped cream and marshmallows. There’s a peppermint stick amongst the deliciousness and a sprinkle of something…
“It’s nutmeg,” Quinn says reading my curious expression. “It’s good, trust me.”
The corner of my mouth quirks up in a slight smile as I take my first sip letting the flavors combine and combust in my mouth. “Mmm. This is good. Better than good. Thank you.”
“Thanks,” she beams. “And you’re welcome. My nanny taught me how to make it when I was little. We’d mostly make it when I was upset or of course, on a cold winters night,” she says dramatically.
I smile at that.
“So your parents had enough money to afford a nanny? They probably sent you to private schools and shit. How’d you end up going to community college night school for your high school diploma with the rest of us slackers?” I pry.
Quinn’s a fairly new friend, so I don’t know much about her. At least, I think we’re friends. After recent events, I don’t know the difference between a friend and a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“When my mom died, I kind of lost it. I was in high school. Went off the rails a bit and rebelled like nobody’s business. I started cutting school. And when I did go, I’d show up half wasted or high as a kite.
“I finally got expelled, and my dad told me that if I didn’t straighten up my act, he’d cut me off. We weren’t really close to begin with, my dad and I. So moms death put even more strain on our already rocky relationship. It was super hard on the both of us, and neither of us knew how to be there for the other,” she releases looking to be lost in her mind.
I don’t say anything. I just wait, letting her have a moment.
“Anyway,” she finally says, shuddering lightly. “After the expulsion, I didn’t bother trying to get back into school; I still needed to get it together though. My mother wouldn’t approve of the path I was headed down. I have a trust fund from my mom’s insurance money, but I try not to use it if I can help it and I didn’t want my dad’s help.
“So I went out, got an internship with a company that runs an online fashion magazine. I worked there for free. Fetching coffee and shit until they eventually offered me a freelance gig of writing for their blog. They liked my content and ultimately offered me a full-time position. But it’s not enough for me. I want to run it. Hell, I want to start my own company. Now I’m finally getting my diploma, so I can go to the fashion institute to study fashion marketing and business.”
Quinn talks about her plans with such joy and excitement for the future. She knows what she wants with certainty. It makes me a little envious. I wish I had a passion for something like that. I wish I was good enough at anything to make a career out of it. I don’t want to wait tables forever. I don’t want to be Trish.
I switch the subject since the reality of my bleak future is depressing. “Well, thanks again for letting me stay. I’ll start looking for a new place tomorrow.”
“You stay as long as you need. I mean it. Don’t stress about it. It just sucks that she gets to keep the apartment. You were there first.”
“I don’t care. I’m going to have my name taken off the lease. It was up soon anyway. I can’t afford it by myself, and I don’t want to live in constant reminder that my boyfriend fucked someone I thought was my friend in my own place.” I reveal to clue her in on the reason I invaded her home this time of night.
“Damn,” she says jumping up to head to the kitchen. I hear the clanking of glass and her rummaging through cabinets.
“What are you doing?” I ask curiously.
She appears again with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a corkscrew. She reclaims her seat and starts to open the bottle.
“Girl, you should have told me what happened when you first got here. You don’t need no damn chocolate; you need alcohol.”
I laugh lightly. She’s right though. As delicious and comforting a gesture as the hot chocolate was, I need a drink.
After we guzzle the bottle of wine, she convinces me that we need to go out. “Come on. Who knows the next time we’ll have the night off from school on a Friday. It’s ladies night at every club in the city. We won’t even have to pay for anything. Not that we would anyway, with your looks.” I look at her in confusion.
My looks?
The girl looks like a sports illustrated model, so I’m not sure what she means about my looks. She’s an aspiring fashion powerhouse and always dresses the part.
“You can’t seriously be oblivious to the fact you’re hot,” she laughs. I’ve been called pretty before. But I’ve never been accused of being hot or sexy. The highest compliment I ever got from Sean was that I was “so damn cute.” Cute. That’s it.
When I don’t immediately say anything but instead cast my eyes to the floor, Quinn makes the decision. “We’re going out. Follow me,” she says walking to the back of her condo without looking back to see if I followed.
I hear what Sophie said replaying in my head. About how I never have fun and am boring.
“That’s why your man wanted to kick it with me...”
Anger floods me all over again, but I push it aside deciding Quinn’s right. We deserve a night out. I guess it’s time to show people how not boring I can be.
We arrive at Sin; the same club my now ex-roommate works at, just after midnight. I decided I not only wanted to come out of my shell but also to be a petty bitch.
Quinn looks great in her short blue halter dress that shows of her ample chest and barely covers her rear. Quinn is biracial like me. Her complexion is deeper than mine, making her father
’s half almost unidentifiable. Her dark hair is naturally super straight though, unlike my unruly curls. At least they usually are. Quinn helped me tame them with some high-end products that I’ll never be able to afford to replicate the look. My now perfectly coiffed curls fall to the middle of my back beautifully.
I’m wearing a borrowed black strapless dress. The fabric shimmers slightly when the light hits it a certain way. When I looked in the mirror after getting dressed I felt…sexy, which is a foreign concept for me. I’ve never worn a sexy dress and got all glam for a night on the town. It feels good. Empowering — nothing like my normal insecure self.
Breathe Page 2