Work's a Bitch: Part 16

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By the next morning, we woke up together in bed-or so I thought. I ended up finding Zendaya sleeping next to me, fast asleep. I snoozed for a couple more hours before getting up for work, thinking about last night. It was so wrong, but in other ways it was magical. Soon I got up to take a shower and dressed before heading for work. I hadn't bothered to wake Zendaya before I left, I'd see her when I returned home that night and only then, would I belong to her.

By day, I would sneak unnecessary breaks into my work schedule at the card store and text Deja. At first we would talk plainly of the customer's that came in the shop; how snobbish and bougsie they were, how cheap they were over a 8 dollar card at an expensive mall, their lack of comprehension and unnecessary refusal to accept a dime that was not American, but Canadian. I admitted to Deja that I wanted to punch them in the face half the time.

I even told her of the patrons that often ventured into the library I worked at during the afternoon. I had just recently found the job two weeks ago, and already the customers snapping at me like Phirannah's. I jokingly talked of the woman everyone referred to as "mentally-ill" in the computer center. Deja would laugh as I told her about the first encounter, where the woman had given a verbal outburst, describing us as worthless. Soon she had left in a huff. On that day, it was worse. She had kicked swiftly at a trashcan and stormed out of the center, yelling at the top of her lungs. I told her of how afraid I had been, how scared I was, everyday I was there with those people. Many of the visitors of the library came from the streets of Glenville and most times, I worried for my life. I worried of my sansity.

"Anit nobody gon' do nothing to you," Deja had said.

I was sitting outside in the safety of my car, far away from any patrons. I had managed to sneak away by telling my co-worker I left something in the car and wished to retrieve it. That had been fifteen minutes ago. "You say that but you never know with people. Whether they're good or truly evil."

"They security there, don't they?" she asked. "Look, Layla you gotta toughen up, okay? You can't let all this dumb stuff get to you."

"It's not dumb," I exclaimed. "I'm terrified. Everyday it's like I'm reliving the same nightmare, over and over agin."

Deja was silent for a moment.

"I just wish there was a way out, so I wouldn't have to do this anymore," I said.

Another long pause followed and soon Deja asked, "Alright, where you at now?"

"Outside . . ."

"You sitting in your car?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I'll be there in ten minutes," she said.

"But I have to go back inside soon," I said.

"You not going back in there," she said. "I'll call them and tell them I came and got you."

"Okay . . . I guess I'll see you in a few."

"Bye," she said and the phone suddenly clicked.

I sat in the parking lot for several minutes before Deja finally showed up. She pulled up in a white Lamborgni next to my car and got out. She stood at the passenger's door and knocked on the glass.

I unlocked the door for her and she got in, plopping herself down in the passenger's seat. She looked at me and asked, "What's going on with you?"

I shook my head. "Just a really bad day at work."

"Seem like everyday is a bad day for you," Deja said.

I didn't say anything.

"You can't let these bitches get to you," Deja said. "You gotta stick up for yourself out here."

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