Aidan's Obsession

8. Emmerson

"It's weird that your boyfriend thinks it would be cool for you to work in a State Park at night alone."

"It's not weird," I say. "He knows how much I liked my quiet job at the gas station. Can still get schoolwork done, and I'm making money." Hailey knows better than anyone that I can take care of myself if I have to.

"You don't need to be on this side of town," Hailey says.

"One side of town to the other is a ten-minute drive," I say. "I just said I needed a job, and a delayed message from Brody appears with a job. It's fate."

Hailey shoots me a glance I can't read, and she shakes her head.

"I don't want to work somewhere with lots of people."

"No worries about lots of people in the state park."

"Right? Especially heading into the low season." We stop at a set of lights, and I catch enough of a signal to look up the state park website. There's a big banner across the top saying they're hiring, and I hope I'm not too late. While Hailey drives, I fill in my details.

"Whatever," she says, and I can tell something has soured her mood, but I don't know what it is. Sometimes it's obvious and other times it's a mystery. Best friend or not, she can be hard to read.

At Hailey's apartment, she cooks me lunch and she tells me about her newest conquest from outside Cape Beatrice. Unlike me, Hailey always seems to find men, and a few women, who feed her sexual desires. She's told me more than once that I need to go after older and more experienced men—none of these "boys". Had a few men try it on in foster care, and I can confirm, that was even worse than sloppy, hesitant boys. Confidence in the wrong man is dangerous.

Later, since it's such a nice day, I opt to walk back to campus. Hailey tries to protest, but I know she's got as much schoolwork to do as me. I'm halfway back when my phone chimes with an email. When I open it, there's a message from the state park. They've checked my references, and they're wondering if I can start tonight.

Not even an interview? I laugh a little to myself. They must be really desperate.

I could ask Brody to drive me, maybe. Ahead is a house with used bikes lined up outside. Every time I drive past here with Hailey, I think about buying one. Biking to the gas station was never a good idea, though. No clear path that didn't involve the dark, sometimes busy, highway. 

Given the number of houses I've lived in, I never became a confident rider, but I'm passable. There's a long path on the edge of the ditch stretching from town to the state park, and it's lit by occasional streetlight. Wouldn't be terrible. Ultimately, I'd save money on cabs, and I learned a thing or two in foster care about defending myself if anyone tried something.

In front of the bikes, I hesitate.

"Can I help you?" The old man who buys and sells the bikes ambles down the path.

"Would any of these bikes be good for the path from town to the state park?"

He looks me up and down and then plucks a beat-up looking thing from the midst of the group. "With your height and the rougher terrain, this is about all I've got."

There's no price tag, and I turn it from side to side, pretending to notice all its faults. If I have to haggle, I need something to criticize.

"Twenty bucks," the old man says. "It's the oldest bike I've got. But I gave her a tune up. She's safe to ride, just old."

At that price, I don't even need to haggle. From my back, I swing my backpack around and dig out my wallet, extracting twenty dollars.

He folds it, tucks it into his pocket, and gestures for me to take the bike.