by Sarah Tork
Damn she needs that nose fixed, I thought, shaking my head.
“What! Do you have something you’d like to say?” Shelby baited.
The urge to speak up was too tempting, but I glued my lips shut because I knew if I spoke then it was bye-bye job.
Stupid bank account – the one skinny thing in my life!
“That’s what I thought!”
God! What I would give to smack that sneer off her ugly face!
“Great, no problem,” I conceded. “You probably know where all the cleaning stuff is, lead the way.” I happily motioned for her to go first. She strode forward clearly pondering whether that last comment was a jab.
It definitely was.
Shelby took me to the supply closet near the end of the hall. She grabbed a giant ring of keys from her belt loop and picked out a large silver one. She unlocked the door and shoved her shoulder into it, pushing it open with a loud thud.
“Wait here,” she ordered, shutting the door in my face.
Country music began playing over the club’s sound system. The singer drawled on about Dolly Parton and rhinestones as the supply closet door burst open and Shelby emerged holding a bucket full of cleaning supplies.
“Here!” She shoved the bucket toward me, letting it go before I’d grabbed it. My arms jerked out suddenly to snatch it before it crashed to the floor.
“Get to work!” I could smell her horrid breath over the scent of all the cleaning solutions I was now carrying.
Jesus! Ever hear of mouthwash?
The ladies change room was the closest to the closet so I headed there first. Half an hour later, I was shaking my head as I left the change room.
Damn! What do rich people eat?
I shivered, remembering the toilet situation that had taken half a bottle of Pine-Sol to clear out. Unfortunately my bathroom expeditions weren’t yet over; my next stop was the front lobby where another gloriously large washroom was waiting for me.
Is this even legal? I contemplated. I was only seventeen; surely there were rules about what seventeen year olds were allowed to do, especially when they worked part-time for minimum wage.
Loud noises echoed from the reception area. It was still a torrential downpour so I was surprised to see the front of the club packed with people. I weaved through the crowds, muttering ‘excuse me’ as I squeezed by.
I walked passed the reception desk, not bothering to see if Jenna was there, today was her day off. Donna Tallins would be working the desk today.
About my height with long, auburn hair that layered across her chest, and clear blue eyes against creamy white skin. Donna was that girl that girls like me never bothered to stand next to. It only led to disappointment. She was blushing and nodding her bobble head as a tall guy sporting a backwards Miami Marlins baseball cap bent over the counter. His blue shirt tightened as he leaned into the corner. Donna looked like she was having a hard time breathing the closer he got.
Look at her, acting like an idiot, gushing over a guy just ’cause he’s cute. Jesus!
“Annabelle?” A familiar voice stopped in the doorway to the washroom.
I looked over my shoulder. It was the guy bent over the counter. He was staring at me with a huge grin.
James! I blinked twice in quick succession, shocked that he was here, standing in front of me. He was ignoring Donna, who stared daggers into me.
Aren’t I Fireball to you, not Annabelle…? I felt the green monster peek out as I saw James still leaning over the counter. Still in Donna’s orbit.
“Oh – Hey!” I called back hesitantly. The bucket of cleaning supplies in my hand made me self-conscious. I was acting as cleaning lady today, there was no shame in that but it was a servant’s duty compared to Donna who sat comfortably in reception, looking down on me. Her piercing blue eyes lowered to my hands, smirking when she spied the bucket.
“Thought that was you!” James pushed himself away from the counter and approached me. I blinked up at him and took a step forward, letting the bathroom door close. I put the bucket on the floor and nervously wiped my hands on my jeans.
“You’re not working today? I thought you were…” I could see Donna over his shoulder, watching us, making me uncomfortable.
“I’ve got a little secret to share,” he leaned close and mock-whispered, “I’ve been let off the hook.”
Donna was clearly not happy with the familiarity James and I already shared.
Got to him first honey! I mentally stuck out my tongue at her, then quickly retracted it as I realized I stood no chance against her.
“What’s your secret?”
“I don’t have to work anymore!” He breathed an audible sigh of relief.
Confused, I just stared. Anymore? Why did he act like some burden was lifted off his chest? Had he been working his entire life, or was he really just the tool I first assumed?
“Oh…” I replied slowly. I couldn’t think of what else to say without the risk of sounding bitter about the situation: One, I wouldn’t get to work with him anymore; and two, I still had to work and today it involved scrubbing toilets. I stared down at his hands; they had probably never cleaned toilets. He was a spoiled little boy and it annoyed me the way he was acting. I didn’t have a choice, I had to work or else I’d have no money.
“What?” James asked, noticing my disposition.
I hesitated. “I’m just wondering when the violins are going to start playing.” His eyes widen and looked offended. He was acting as if he’d done more than just half a day yesterday!
“Are you making fun of me?” he asked carefully. The joyous light was fading from his green eyes as they stared at me in confusion. He didn’t understand. He was used to everyone being happy for him, like Donna
I wasn’t. And I wasn’t about to pretend to be.
So I just shrugged.
“I’m a baseball player,” he exclaimed, as if explaining everything.
What the hell does that have to do with anything? If you play ball, you don’t have to work? If that’s the case, sign me up!
“So?” I snapped in a voice that screamed ‘I don’t care!’
“I’m on the team now for Royal Heights. They started practice a week ago. I’ve missed out an entire week.” His explanation made no sense and his tone said I had made him uneasy. He wasn’t used to people not giving a shit about how ‘lucky’ he was.
“Again, so?”
He looked angry for a second, but his expression quickly melted into something else – something seductive.
Uh oh! I know that look… Prepare the shields, captain!
“Fireball… If you aren’t good, I won’t let you come to my practices,” James threatened. His voice would have melted any girl – just not me. I stare back in disbelief; he was so cocky.
“I’m good,” I shrugged, “but maybe ask Donna there if she’d like to watch you practice, I’m sure she’d jump at the chance.”
His lip twitched and something changed in his eyes, as if he were seeing me in a new light.
“Maybe I will.”
“Then maybe you should,” I snapped back. My lips tightened at the thought of Donna cheering for him on the sidelines.
Whatever!
“What was that, Fireball? Do I detect a bit of sadness in your tone?” He took a step closer, making me blush and look away.
“No!” I tried too hard to sound convincing.
Keep staring at the wall. Do not look him in the face, or he’ll know you’re full of shit.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be far,” he whispered softly.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I slowly turned back. My eyes met his soft, silky ones. But despite his beautiful eyes, his words still annoyed me. I was sick and tired of people not taking me seriously.
Time to show him what’s up!
“I have to get back to work.” I didn’t want to fluff his ego any further, the text conversation last night must have gone to his head.
“Hey James!”
Donna shouted. “Come back here!”
James’ eyes bore into mine, trying to decipher some code in what I’d just said. ‘I have to go to work’ seemed pretty self-explanatory to me. Silence hovered over us until he gave in and returned to Donna.
Whatever!
“Later, Annabelle,” he muttered, not bothering to look back.
Pretending I no longer existed, James returned to his intellectually stimulating conversation with Donna. I rolled my eyes and returned to my bucket. I had a job to do, toilets needed scrubbing.
*****
“Please?”
“No!” I told my mother as she pouted from across the table at Luigi’s, an Italian restaurant twenty minutes from our house. It was odd that my family was in high-carb central, especially with my parents hounding me about my weight so much. But things changed a few hours ago…
At noon, my shift was cut short. It had stopped raining but the dark clouds still looked threatening. I skipped lunch in the change room, even though I was starving and upset. I wanted to get home before the deluge started again.
As I climbed up the hill with my bike, my mind flashed back to yesterday when James walked my bike up the hill. My stomach twisted strangely and it felt as if someone had been repeatedly poking me. I was irritated and I knew why – but I didn’t understand it.
When a guy acted like an asshole, his name was immediately struck from the list of potentials. Not that there were any to begin with, but still. I was trying to cross him off, erase him, but nothing worked. I kept going over our conversation and my stomach kept aching. By the time I made it to the top of the hill, I was a nervous wreck. I hopped on to my bike and raced home.
A few drops landed on me as I pushed through the front door. My stomach growled as I peeled off my shoes. Unfortunately, the exertion of the bike ride had done nothing to ease my nerves, but it did make me hungrier. I still had my lunch in my backpack, but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough, not with how Mom packed. I headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge, scouring it for anything I could sneak upstairs unnoticed. I needed two things right now: food and peace. Anyone who interfered with either was in for a nasty surprise when I bit their head off.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Mom demanded from the other side of the fridge door.
I ignored her and continued searching for something edible.
“I packed you a lunch!”
I shuffled some items around, still searching.
“What’s going on in here?” Dad yelled, stomping up from the basement.
“Marcus, look. She’s going to ruin her diet,” she whined, turning to him for backup.
I grab an eighty-calorie strawberry yogurt and slammed the fridge door shut. Mom scanned my hands to see what I took.
“If you eat that you’re going to be over your limit,” Mom tried to reason as I walked around her and grabbed a spoon from the drawer. Dad crossed his arms but remained silent.
“Yeah, well, I really don’t care right now!” I shouted.
She blocked my path from the kitchen.
“No more diet!” I exploded.
Mom’s eyes grew wide. “What – You can’t…” she stammered. Dad stayed quiet.
“I can,” I stated. “So don’t push me, or else I’ll leave and never come back!” My threat caused Mom’s jaw to drop. Dad put his hands on her shoulders, slowly pushing her out my way.
“Alright, alright, enough of this. Annabelle, you may go eat your yogurt in your room,” said Dad.
I quickly fled the kitchen and ran up the stairs. I slammed my bedroom door shut, rattling the windows. I could feel my temperature rising with my anger.
They can kiss my fat ass!
No one bothered me for a couple of hours. They had a few brain cells after all, and noticed I wasn’t in the best of moods to be quarreled with.
I had finally cooled down when there was a timid knock on my door. My dad told me we were all going to Luigi’s for dinner. Smart choice, seeing as good Italian food was the only thing that had a chance of getting me out of my room peacefully.
Then I was informed that today was going to be a ‘pass day,’ a mulligan.
But once we were seated in the restaurant, the smart brain cells didn’t stick around, not where my mother was concerned anyway.
“Please, Annabelle, get diet cola not regular,” Mom begged in front of our waitress. “Please for Mommy!”
I stared at her and shook my head. She was crazy. Did she not understand the concept of a pass day? We were at an Italian restaurant where my favorite food, spaghetti and meatballs, was their specialty. I hadn’t had spaghetti in a month and a half!
Calories at home can be monitored more easily than at a restaurant! My mind mimicked in Mom’s voice, repeating what she had said when I started this diet.
I ignored her plea and ordered: “I want a regular cola, please.”
Mom let out an exasperated breath and dramatically flipped open her menu, scanning the drink selection for herself.
“Since a certain someone doesn’t want to make the healthy decision, I’ll go ahead a get that diet cola. Maybe she’ll change her mind later,” Mom told the waitress, letting out a little giggle as if to say, ‘Oh this girl, she’s fat and doesn’t know dieting should be a way of life for her. Because she’s fat. Oh, did I forget to mention she’s fat? That’s because she’s fat, and fat people shouldn’t drink regular cola, it’ll only make them fatter!’
Wow, she has no limits.
Mom had no problem acting like a fool in public just to make her point.
To put it simply: dinner was a disaster. But I didn’t care. I got to eat spaghetti with meatballs for the first time in nearly two months! If I had to sit through my mother hounding me in front of an entire restaurant about getting diet cola, just to get my favorite meal in the entire world, then I’d happily do it again. But next time I’d pack earplugs.
When we got home, I went to my room to see if my cell phone was finished charging. I turned it on and it beeped several times, telling me I’d received five text messages while I was gone.
Who sent me messages?
TIGER sent you a message! (4)
Jenna sent you a message! (1)
I felt like I was about to have a mini heart attack when I saw ‘Tiger’ on my screen. I was so confused. I’d told myself that I was no longer interested in that douche – who dared to flirt with that attention-whore Donna right in front of me, as if I didn’t exist. He was supposed to be ‘so whatever!’ from now on.
My body dared to disagree with my mind. It shivered in anticipation of discovering what he wrote to me. I resisted the urge and tapped on Jenna’s message first. Her text was probably going to be funny and I needed funny and lightheartedness before delving into more pressing matters that concerned my sanity.
From: Jenna
My dad’s kur-azy! He ordered special t-shirts for my swim meets. Jenna’s Dad, arrow pointing up. And 1 for mom 2! Think I can get away with telling everyone we’re not related? Bitch you better answer me! Laters
Okay, that didn’t exactly help. In fact, it made me depressed knowing that her parents cared enough about her to get lame t-shirts made. They were proud of their daughter and weren’t afraid to show it. Maybe Mom would get custom shirts made if I managed to lose twenty-five pounds – my first achievement.
‘My daughter lost twenty-five pounds and I’m so proud!’
I laughed, thinking about my mom walking around the neighborhood proudly sporting the t-shirt, a huge grin on her face.
That feels better!
I had a new smile on my face that I desperately needed before diving into James’ texts. I tapped on his name. Four messages popped up, one after the other.
From: TIGER 6:00pm
Hey you there?
That’s it? Yes I’m here! But I’m gonna need a bit more than that if you want me to text back, DOUCHE!
From: TIGER 6:28pm
R u ignoring me? Because of Donna?
Fireball, you know it wasn’t like that!
I shook my head. Wrong again.
First of all, it wasn’t entirely about Donna; second of all, you’re a spoiled little brat who thinks his shit doesn’t stink. Some of us have to work, unlike you.
From: TIGER 6:46pm
Fireball! Don’t ignore me :( It was nothing. We were just talking about nothing
Then why was she blushing like you just told her something dirty? I’m not stupid!
I mouthed ‘Whatever’ to the screen and move to the next message.
From: TIGER 7:25pm
Wow, so its gonna be like that huh!
What the hell did he want from me!
He was the one who walked away from me!
Yeah, so I’d told him I had to get back to work, but he didn’t have to agree right away and return to the attention-whore!
Not cool!
I tapped ‘reply’ on the newest message; I was going to give him a piece of my mind.
From: Me 7:45pm
Thats right its gonna be like that. I don’t owe u anything. We don’t even know each other! Get over yourself, it wasn’t about DONNA! Some of us aren’t as lucky as you, we still have to work! Remember that the next time you decide to gloat!
I pressed ‘send’ and threw the phone onto my bed.
Boom! That’s what’s up, douchebag!
Beep! Beep!
If I was honest with myself, I was a bit scared to pick up my phone, like it would burn me if I touched it.
New Message from TIGER!
I reluctantly opened his text. Here goes nothing.
From: TIGER 7:47pm
Oh yeah! U need to have your ears checked, I didn’t gloat! Weren’t you the one who tried to lock lips with me? Stop lying to urself. It was about Donna, jealous I was talking to her and not you :) From your hot studded fantasy
Oh my god, he did not just write that! I almost kissed him?! Is he kidding? I’m not jealous!
I threw my phone back onto my bed, it bounced and landed on my pillow. My body felt like it was in flames. I struggled out of my sweater and whipped it across the room. It didn’t make me feel any better.