Hard to Love

c h a p i t r e d e u x

The next day, I woke up early like I always did. I was too tired to count the money George had given me the previous night so that was what I did as soon as I woke up.

The bills were so many that I had to wipe my eyes a few times to make sure it wasn't an optical illusion. And no. It actually was not. George had left me $10,000. Fucking ten thousand dollars.

The fee for a night was $750 for regular clients and $850 for non-regulars. And if the client was satisfied enough, or generous enough, he could leave a tip.

But this right here was more than a tip. It was a fucking salary! Almost immediately, I made my decision. I was going to give Kendra $750 and keep the rest for myself.

I put the money in my backpack, where the rest of my meager savings were. I had chosen the top bunk for one reason; privacy and I was especially grateful for it in that moment. I went down from the bed to get ready for school. I had an eight a.m. class and I really did not want to miss it- actually, I couldn't afford to miss it.

After taking a quick shower, I got dressed and headed out. My style was basic: jeans, a hoodie and a pair of sneakers, even in summer. I envied people who had the courage to expose their bodies. Revealing clothes just made me feel cheap and reminded me of my job and my pitiful life.

I took the bus to the college campus. School was basically my life. And that was putting it lightly. It was an escape. Something that made me believe I could have a better life one day. And I looked forward to it every single day.

To some people, it seemed ludicrous but I didn't associate with anyone and I really didn't care about their opinions. They had no idea what and who I was so they could stuff their opinions up their asses.

I put on my old iPhone and put some music as I sat in the bus. As soon as I removed it though, the guy sitting next to me exclaimed, "It's 2018! You're seriously still using the iPhone 4??"

I paused the music and looked at him. Who was this motherfucker who thought he had a say in my life and on my phone? "You are not the one using it though?" I said calmly, raising my brows I really did not like trouble but clearly this guy did.

"This chick is living in 2013," he laughed and I sighed. This guy was clearly all kinds of disturbed and I wasn't going to give him the dramatic reaction he wanted.

I looked him up and down and my gaze lingered on his shoes. They were old and worn and his big toe was out. And he had the nerve to talk about my phone!

"Before you start talking of my phone, buy yourself some new shoes and wipe that spittle off your cheeks. It's disgusting," was all I said, then I plugged it my earphones and continued listening to my music.

I did not pay attention to him the rest of the ride. It was only when I was getting down that I noticed he had switched seats. Not that I minded. I wouldn't have had it any other way.

As I was walking to my first class of the day, my gaze stopped on the same guy I had seen at the whorehouse the previous night. He was not wearing glasses this time around and the clothes he had on were less formal than the ones he had been in the previous night.

As I was staring at him, our eyes locked. It was almost like I was under a spell. Like I couldn't look away. We were not that close to each other but I could see that his eyes were grey and captivating.

When his lips curved into a smirk, I quickly shook my head and looked away. He was trouble. He screamed trouble. His aura was trouble. And I was probably thinking of the word trouble too much but it was practically emanating from his pores.

I walked briskly to my class and shook my head again so as to clear my mind and make my brain forget him. Even though we had exchanged just a glance, I felt he was dangerous. I didn't know why.

He didn't have the stereotypical bad boy looks. His cheekbones were not as chiseled and his clothes not as bad ass. But his dress shirt and jeans coupled with that smirk on his pink pouty lips was a killer combination.

I was probably thinking way to hard about it. So I willed myself to forget. This was not something I was going to let myself daydream about. This was not part of my plans, long term or short term.

The class went like a blur. I picked up my stuff and headed to the library. I had two more hours to wait until the next class and I was going to kill time by doing some research.

A few hours later, I was on my way home, a term I used very loosely. But it was what it was. I had never known any other place. It was in all my earliest memories and as much as I hated it, it had apparently been the place I had been calling home for the last 20 years.

I reached the whorehouse and was immediately accosted by Kendra. I knew what she was going to tell me. She was going to scold me because of George last night.

We went to her office and sat down. I looked around. There were lots of books and the place was dusty as hell. I didn't like Kendra's office because the place was musty and it reminded me of my pretty useless life.

"You know why I called you here right?" Kendra asked, looking at me straight in the eye. Kendra could be bubbly and energetic and cheerful but when she meant to be scary, it was not a good experience.

"Kendra..." I started explaining but she cut me off pretty quick.

"I don't want to hear your explanations, Nya. It was very stupid of you! Do you know how long George has been coming here? Way too long for you to make him to leave over a whim."

When Kendra got like this, there was nothing you could do or say to make her see reason. I kept quiet. I really did not know George had decided not to come back. I though he was going to choose some other girl.

"You know you're going to be punished, right?" she asked and I nodded meekly.

"Right. Henry is coming this evening. You're going to be the one to receive him today. Is that understood?"

I opened my mouth to protest but nodded again. She motioned me to go and out and I left, thinking about the plight I was about to suffer.

Henry was the complete opposite of George. He was the type that thought, because we were whores, we were objects to be used solely for his pleasure and nothing else.

I had no choice anyways. What Kendra said went. I was just going to have to accept my fate.

***

Hello ppl. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Comment your thoughts!

What do you think of Nya? Impressions?

The guy on the bus?? 😂😂

See you next week.
Love, Essie 🌺