Sacrificed Soul

Chapter Fourteen

"You're pale. And I can see your hands shaking all the from over here. Your blood sugar is probably low. It's almost five and neither of us have eaten since this morning."

"Why not?" Lenora asks, "There's that new bakery Ingrid Davenport opened in the spring of last year. Everything is so good, and the coffee! Yum!" She says, rubbing her belly just thinking about it.

I snort. I'm not stopping into any pack owned businesses for now. Neither I nor they are ready for face to face communication.

"You have a car payment now, Lenora. You can't waste your money there anymore," David scolds.

I guess middle school teachers don't make very much money. That's what I've gathered, at least.

"By the way, and while we're on the subject of cars," I stall as I reach into a cupboard for one of the juice boxes that have only just gone out of date, "I hear you guys owe me a new paint job."

Now it's Lenora who pales and Junior who is entertained. His color looks a little better, but I still toss an apple juice towards him. He catches it, and even though he's glaring at me again, I watch as he pokes the little white bendy straw through the top. He sucks it dry in about a second flat, throwing it in the vague direction of the trash can.

"When you can drive it without breaking down every few miles, I'll have it painted whatever color you want," David promises.

I grumble, throwing both of our empty juices away.

David's probably got the money to do it on his own. I guess he's a web developer or programmer or something along those lines. Marsha, his mother, said just this morning that he should move to San Fran. I don't know know what that means. He'd offered to set me up with a computer, but I'm not very good with technology, and I won't put him through whatever is going on in Junior's head every time we went around a blind corner of Sierra Way. Besides, aren't phone just mini computers themselves?

I tap my chin in thought, saying aloud, "Hmm. Pink or orange?"

Junior rolls his eyes, "Blue."

"No, matte green," Lenora says.

That has my eyes rolling, "Yeah, let's just put an army logo on the side while we're at it. Not fucking happening."

"White is in fashion," David suggests.

"No."

"Whatever," Junior says, "I doubt you'll be driving that POS on your own for a while."

"How much money you want to put down?" I ask, reminded that I do, in fact, owe twenty bucks to Dee. Doesn't matter how the night ended, only that he was mostly right. He'll accept it with grace, but I know he'll want to squeal in excitement.

Besides, I'm a fast learner thanks to my girl.

"A hundred bucks."

"How much do you think the army paid me? Besides," I stop to gesture at the gross— ahem, well loved— cabin we are all currently standing in, "I have a house payment. And insurance on said house. And—,"

"Fine! Alright, alright. Ten bucks."

Much better, "Deal. I bet you that I'll be driving to the pack run on my own."

That's a week from now. And I start work tomorrow. I'll have to leave early if I hope to make it in time with all the stalling I'll probably do. It's good practice, I tell myself.

"Thanks for the ten bucks," Junior winks at me, "I'm gonna head home. I can smell Mom's cooking from here.

Liar.