Wrong Move

5 - Moving On

Taylor

Three weeks later

I hefted the last box from my shitty little hatchback and balanced it on my hip. I could feel my phone vibrating in my pocket, but my hands were too full and I couldn't get it before it went still. It was the second call I'd missed, and I already knew who it was. I used my other hip to bump open the door and hauled the box up onto the crowded kitchen bench. I huffed an exhausted breath, trying not to feel overwhelmed by the amount of clutter in the room. I didn't think I had that much stuff, but apparently Aunty Coral had snuck in a few things for me. I looked around the tiny apartment with a sense of pride; it wasn't much only a squishy one bedroom, but it was cheap and I was on the second floor so, it was safe. It was also within walking distance to the shops and the main strip, so hopefully I could walk when I got a job. 

I'd saved all my cash from working the bar and the club, never one to spend big and hadn't thought I ever do anything spectacular, but here I was. In my place for the first time. My uncle and a few of the prospects would help move all the furniture tomorrow. I'd already done the boxes today. My phone vibrated again, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. She was like clockwork.

"Hey Casey," I said without even looking at my phone. It was midday on a Friday, and I knew to expect a call from my cousin.

"Hey sugar," she giggled down the line, "Can you cover me tonight?"

"No Casey, I can't cover for you. In fact, I can't cover for you in the future, seeing as I don't work at the bar anymore" I squished my phone between my shoulder and rifled through a box named kitchen.

"Whaattt!!" Casey shrieked. "What are you talking about? Quit the bar?" she laughed uneasily. "I really need you to cover for me cuz, I already booked myself out"

I blew out a frustrated breath, biting my tongue. Her shifts were scheduled on every Friday night and every Friday lunch she would call and ask me to cover for her. It was my fault for making it so easy for her. I never said no, ever dependable and reliable Taylor. But I felt that surge of pride prickle through me again. Not anymore. I wasn't that girl any longer. I wasn't going to pick up a shift for my flighty cousin just so I could snatch a glimpse at a guy who had no interest in me. That was Taylor of old. Now I had my new hair, new attitude and a backbone. It was still weak, but getting stronger every day.

"Sorry Casey, I can't help you," I said, not elaborating. She knew I was moving out today, but had clearly forgotten. I heard hushed whispers as she talked to someone next to her, and I winced in preparation.

"Tay-Tay," she whined, "Please girl, just this one time! I'll even give you some of my pay!"

I swallowed the litany of sharp comments I wanted to make, knowing it wouldn't make a difference. Casey lived in a world where people catered to her. She wasn't a club princess, but she might as well have been. For me to say no, it was a shake to her foundations and she wouldn't hesitate to cry and stamp her feet to get her way.

"I've really got to go. I'll talk to you sometime," I said, and before she could argue, I hung up the phone. Casey rang back immediately, the screen filling up with her desperate attempts to reach me. I flipped my phone over and got to work unpacking instead. This felt damn good.