Piece Simul ✔

Chapter 50-Guin-Ticket to Ride

--B.T.L.: Before the Launch

--Dura-Chamber Archive Scan * 032333

"Just don't, okay? I told you, that hurts!" Guin's protests dissolved into giggles.

She pushed at Leighton's hands, but he ignored her pleas and continued running his fingers along her ribcage.

She howled with laughter, dashing up for air when he allowed.

"You're a tickle monster," she panted, combing down her mess of hair.

"I didn't get to the finale," he said.

A delicious grin reminded her of his version of finales, but she had a two o'clock anatomy class she couldn't miss.

"Maybe later." Guin bent over to kiss her beau goodbye.

He held her wrist. "At the party tonight?"

"Uh," she hovered on her heels, trapped, "I'm still not sure if I'm going to that."

"C'mon, it's just a party," Leighton said, his grip gradually tightening.

"I'll think about it, no worries," she said, tugging hard to release his hold.

"Mmmkay." He plopped his head back onto the pink pillow and shut his eyes.

"Later!"

He grunted in response, and she left, donning a face mask.

During the hike to class through the trimmed walkway, she rubbed her skin, still feeling Leighton's sweaty hands.

He wasn't a rough one

(unless she asked)

and she wondered what it meant.

She definitely planned on skipping that stupid party.

If she hoped to relinquish Caldwell's control and put her past behind her, it would take hard work.

She was willing to do what was necessary to change her path. To help people.

~*~

Class proved to be headache-inducing, with a boring lecture from a bot and a pop quiz. One of the other ten students in the room leaned in close, obviously cheating off her interface answers, but Guin didn't care enough to tell him off. To complete her crappy day, her food account was down to $5 dollars, and her trip to the financial aid office was a waste.

"For now, all future loans are denied," the aide officer informed her.

Guin flipped the lady a dafuq half-smile, and considered flipping something else, but she kept it together.

Leighton: Party time in t-minus 5 hours. Be ready.

Have fun dancing by yourself, and she hit send.

Her next stop was the hospital. Volunteers earned next to nothing, (Guin and her co-workers often joked that they were paid in bedpan loads), but she enjoyed the work. Even in her lowly capacity as a nurse's aide/janitor/surrogate mother/shoulder to cry on, learning opportunities were easy to come by. She had met Janis, the volunteer supervisor, at the library. Janis had been so unfazed by everything. Helping people came with surety. At least, that's how Janis sold it. As they spoke that night, and most days after that, Guin began to actually believe the bullshit about helping people. So she started working at the hospital, with designs on becoming a nurse.

As her shift winded down, Trent, another supervisor, called her to the office. Papers were everywhere, stacked at varying heights. Guin stood in the middle of the room, conscious of her role as Godzilla among the small skyscrapers. She was even more conscious of the fact that in the two years she'd volunteered, she'd never seen the inside of the small space.

"Paper. You don't really see that these days," she offered, trying to break the silence.

Trent tapped on the keyboard, pausing every few seconds to re-read, and continued typing.

"Did you need to talk to me?" Guin asked, crossing her arms. How was it so cold? Weren't small rooms supposed to be hot and unbearable , instead of cold and uncomfortable?

"Yes," Trent said, negating the affirmation by typing for another few minutes. Finally: "I'm sorry, but I'm letting you go."

Guin's mouth dropped open, but little comedy transferred to the movement. "Wha---why?"

"Guy in 24B said you harassed him."

She shook her head. "Not at all."

"He complained, and it's not the first I've heard about you. Lemme see your security badge, please." Trent held out a hand, using the other to scroll and type.

In a daze, Guin handed over the badge. Her mouth caught up with the fog of her thoughts, and she said, "Dudes complain all the time, and no one gets fired."

"You're not a person, you're a volunteer. Today, you managed to piss off the nephew of the board of directors for the hospital, so that's it, kiddo." Trent squinted at the screen, beating up the backspace button.

"I--okay." Then, she clung to what she knew: "Does Janis know?"

Trent sized her up with a mixture of pity and disgust. "Life isn't about your friends saving your ass. Doesn't matter if Janis knows or doesn't know."

Humiliation flamed her cheeks. "Thanks for the opportunity, I guess," Guin said.

Tears choked her. She pushed her way out the room, and a breeze hit her leg. She glanced back to see a mini-skyscraper of papers laid out all over the floor.

"Sorry," she squeezed out, not intending to help pick up the mess.

In the parking lot, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Leighton: 2 hours and counting.

Through the blur of tears, she managed to type: Will there be booze?

Leighton: Yasssss.

Frat parties weren't for her. First semester, she attended a few, but the guys put her off, and the girls had even less to offer. Plus, she had heard things about what went on in the basement, and she wanted no part of that. As long as she hung with Leighton, she could avoid any messy business.

See ya in 2 hours.

Thetwo essays could wait. Tonight, she planned on destroying her liver.