You never know how lucky you are to sleep on a mattress until you don't have one.
It's been three weeks since I've been living in my car, and while I'm thankful to at least have that...I feel the damage on my self-esteem.
On Wednesday, I'm at work, organizing my cash drawer, waiting for the next customer to walk through the door. It's a small commercial bank. The clientele comprises old folks who need someone to talk to. Some of them are kind and gentle, and they like me, so I look forward to their visits.
What I don't expect is to look up and find my mom's boyfriend.
My breath halts with instant anxiety.
He's never visited me at work before.
It's obvious from the way he's glaring behind the glass door that he expects me to meet him there. I let my manager know I'm making a quick stop at the convenience store and step outside.
He follows me.
"You good?" A sleazy smile forms on his mouth. Even his voice sticks to my neck like grease.
"What do you want?" I pretend to browse through snacks.
"Your car."
"What? No."
"Someone hit our car a couple of days ago. How are we supposed to go to work?"
We. As in, my mom and him. As if I was never a part of her life. Did she forget giving birth to me? Did she forgot that she has a daughter?
"None of my business," I say. "You're grown adults. Figure it out. I need my car."
"Isn't your friend, Dania, rich? We don't have connections like that. We only have you."
"You don't have me, actually. I want nothing to do with you."
And although I leave him in the store with my head held high, I feel his prescence, the threat of never-ending drama.
I'm the only stable thing in their life. The resource they drain until I'm a shell of a human being.
Well, not anymore.
I manage to get through the day. Then the next one. And the next.
Hayden pops into my mind from time to time (okay, often). During lecture, when a tall guy walks into class. I think of his brooding ass. When someone turns their head, I think of Hayden's grumpy profile.
I almost text him, but I don't. He doesn't text either. Why would he?
On Saturday, he digitally unlocks his front door and I start cleaning. A sticky note waits for me on the coffee machine.
Use it
(with ice cream)
For the first time today, I smile.
Hazel: Is this supposed to be a kind gesture or a THREAT?
Hayden: You tell me
Hazel: Depends on the consequences
Hayden: Slow death
Hazel: Oh, ok. I was worried it might be something serious
Someone knocks on the front door.
Hayden?
Wait, why would Hayden knock on his own front door?
Carefully, I approach and check through the peephole...
No.
My mom's boyfriend. He followed me.
My chest tightens from stress, heart pounding too fast for me to think straight.
YOU ARE READING
Attitude Adjustment
RomanceSecretly living in her car, Hazel lies to get a job as a housekeeper for a brooding, sexually intense man who seems to hate everyone, including her.
