Enemies

The first week sucked.

My housemates thought I was an idiot, and that was putting it nicely. I worried Mia and Lisa would go back to being bitches to me, but they didn’t. They weren’t friendly. They were just stagnant, if that was the best way to describe them? Savannah seemed quiet, but that was normal for her. Nicole and I spent more time together, actually building a friendship.

We met for lunch on Thursday, and that began our tradition going into my second week.

Siobhan and Trent, they were a mixed bag. Siobhan had moved, so she was sitting on the opposite side of the room as me. I didn’t know why. I’d not been fully forthcoming about everything in my life, but welcome to my life. I wasn’t forthcoming with anyone, even myself. We’d just started becoming friends. I owed her nothing, really.

As for Trent, he looked at me sometimes. There was the occasional wave, but only when he checked to make sure Siobhan was out of the room, so it was just before she came in or right after she left that he’d glance my way.

Three weeks after the video from outside the library had been posted, I was still getting the occasional ‘whassup?’ or ‘Yo! How’s the Rampage doing?’ Or the pick-up lines. If Stone Reeves banged me, then I must be quality pussy, one guy actually told me that. Stone had been pictured with a few other girls in the weeks since I left. I knew because I got asked every other day ‘what’s up with that? You two not boning anymore?’

It was real fun.

But there were good parts. Jared.

I still didn’t have a car, couldn’t afford to buy one, so I used most of what I had in my emergency fund to fly up and see Jared. I’d gone twice, the second time, I’d gone up on the bus. It took longer, but both had been worth it. I’d gone to his own football game, and Georgia confided after they came to see Stone that Jared begged his coach to switch him to wide receiver.

She didn’t ask how Stone was, and I was grateful. I think maybe she’d known not to ask, but I wasn’t going to ask about that either. We were both in a no-asking zone, and it suited me just fine.

And now I was standing in the Quail while Joe was looking at me like I was trying to convince him I came from Mars.

“You’re shitting me.” He was sitting back in his chair, a leg up and his ankle resting over his other knee. His hands were clasped together.

I shook my head. “Nope. I need the money.”

“You’re coming back now for the job I gave you before your coma and your parents died?”

I gritted my teeth. “Stone didn’t have any right to tell you that, but yes. I am. I need money,” I said it again. It needed to be said, because I NEEDED money! Like, yesterday. “I used up my funds to go see my brother. I’m still trying to go to college, and no, I don’t talk to Stone anymore, so he can’t help me. Not that he should’ve before.”

Joe stared at me. Long. Hard.

Cursing, he sat forward, picked up a pen and pointed outside the hallway behind me with it. “Every guy who works here knows Stone. They either love him or hate him. Sports is on the television all the time. The clip of you in Reeves’ arms after his one game, that was everywhere. Along with that video in the parking lot. Girls don’t know shit. You won’t have problems with any of them, unless it’s an obsessive fan, but those don’t come in here. Your problem is going to be the guys. They’ll want to talk to you about him. They’ll want to be the next him. You’ll be hit on almost from the time you walk in here to when you leave, and you’re going to have to be escorted to your vehicle by security because you’ll have guys following you, propositioning you.”

Was now the time to tell him I’d be walking back and forth from work? I was taking that as a no.

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know. I get the comments just walking around campus.”

“They’ll be worse here.”

My gut knotted up. “I need the money.”

Another long stare, another low curse, and he threw the pen at the corner of his office. His hands threaded together and he placed them behind his head. “This is not a good idea.” He squinted at me, turning his head to the side, his eyes taking on a more assessing look. “Can you change your hair?”

I reached back, grabbing my braid.

I’d never dyed my hair. Trimmed it. Permed it once, but never messed with the colors. It was a honey-blonde color, and in the summer I usually got almost white streaks.

“This?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

“You want me to change my hair color?”

Another nod. “Yep.”

I was thinking. I was wondering.

What color would even work?

“You want me to darken it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck. You can make it rainbow color for all I care.” He frowned. “Second thought, might not be a bad idea. The guys wouldn’t recognize you for sure then.” He clapped his hands together, grinning. He leaned forward in his chair, about to get up. “It’s decided. Rainbow hair. You won’t get harassed every night you work, and I got a server who can do her job without being harassed every night she works. Win-win.”

Except I didn’t want rainbow hair.

“Um. Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

Rainbow hair. I could do it. I was trying to convince myself as I followed him through the rest of the Quail. We were between lunch and before the afternoon early-dinner rush would start in, but I was getting looks. I was getting a lot of looks. Joe was showing me the ropes, where to check in, where to grab my apron and ordering pad. He gave me a menu to take home and memorize, and after my brief orientation, two guys were waiting for me at the door.

Joe saw them, sighing. “It’s already starting.” He hollered, waving, “Mikey.” He motioned at them.

Mikey must’ve been appraised because he was there and moving them along by the time Joe walked me out the back door. “You ready for this?”

“Yeah.”

I had no option. I had to be ready for it.

He stared at me, another shake of his head that I was starting to learn was just a ‘Joe’ thing. “Okay. I’ll have you train with one of my girls tomorrow night, Cammie, but after that, you’re on your own. Sink or swim. If you don’t swim, you gotta get cut by this weekend.”

“I won’t sink. I promise.” Again. I couldn’t. He was underestimating how dire my bank account was. Stone and his dad helped pay for a few things, but they didn’t put money in my account. They just took what would’ve been added debt spread out over the years, which I was now super grateful for, but my present situation was dire.

“Okay. Tomorrow. Be here by six sharp.”

I almost saluted him.