What Deceit Looks Like | ✓

11: cassidy

 When I wake up the next morning, it's to an empty bed again. If I didn't know better, I would think that I imagined the whole thing. Part of me wants to just close my eyes and go back to sleep, but the other part of me knows that's not an option.

My head is pounding and one look in a mirror tells me that my eyes are as puffy as I thought they were. I shower quickly grabbing a random clean t-shirt and jeans trying to forget what happened last night. I'm harshly reminded of the blank check that Maddox had given me still sitting in my underwear drawer and I want to do nothing more than rip it up. It's what started this all in the first place. I'm not sure what stops me but I shove the drawer shut to push it out of mind. When I walk into the living room to see the tv gone, my stomach drops.

Everything has been wiped clean leaving almost no sign anything even happened but I know that's not true. I keep hearing Noah's words in my head. I have no idea where he is right now and I don't think I want to know.

He's gambling more money away or getting drunk for all I know.

My keys and bag are where I left them last night and my phone vibrates from inside as I go to pull it out seeing a call from Jupiter.

"Oh finally. I haven't been able to get ahold of you. John asked if you were coming in for your shift and I didn't know what to tell him."

I rub my face and sigh, "Yeah, I'll be there soon."

The exhaustion in my voice is clear as day but Jupiter doesn't comment on it. "See you soon?"

"Yeah, I'm leaving now."

My hair is dripping wet on my shoulders, slowly soaking my hooded denim jacket but I don't notice as I walk down the steps skipping them two at a time. Walking to work in winter with wet hair probably isn't the smartest idea.

The bar is a few minutes in the opposite direction of Jupiter's and I try to keep my mind as blank as possible. There's no point in thinking about last night because there's nothing I can change. What happened, happened.

I look about as shitty as I feel based on John's face once I step into work and he gives me a questioning look as he unstacks the chairs. I ignore him and walk behind the bar starting with washing glasses without saying a word after shrugging off my jacket.

"Hey, you weren't kidding when you said that you were on your..." Jupiter trails off taking in my disheveled appearance. I look over at her and I know what she's thinking.

"I don't want to talk about it," I shut her down before she can even ask. I really don't. If I'd had any idea of what a colossal disaster last night was going to be then I would have just stayed at Jupiter's.

She takes a silent place next to me grabbing a towel in one hand and holding out her other to take the glass I'm currently rinsing. It goes fast with us working and it keeps my mind busy.

Fill the cup up partially with warm water. Swirl it. Dump it. Use a soapy washcloth to remove the rest. Rinse it. Hand it off to Jupiter.

The shot glasses are easier to do because they go faster.

Every now and then Jupiter breaks away to help John with something, and I have to break my rhythm to dry it also. This is mind-numbing and exactly what I need.

When we run out of glasses to clean, I move on to the bar top grabbing a new wet rag and wiping down whatever liquor has been spilled recently. Whoever closed last night did a shitty job of cleaning up because usually all this is done by the time we show up the next morning.

It's still early enough that there's no reason to open the bar and the television in the corner is set to some random news channel filtering some sound into the room. I take a second to breathe and smooth my hair into a loose pony, but it's refusing to cooperate because it's still damp from my shower.