Reckless (Reckless #1)

Reckless - Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Money.

It was the only word that I could register right now.

The tips I received from bussing tables was outrageous. There was a decent amount of people who came into the bar - not too many and not too little. They all gave me tips, insisting that I did a good job serving them.

From all the tips, I had to have easily over one-hundred dollars in my pocket. To say that I liked this job would be an understatement; I loved this job.

When I was young, my family wasn’t wealthy in any way. I rarely got anything that I wanted - actually, I didn’t really get anything that I needed either.

My dad worked at the local mechanics shop, in which he didn’t earn much. My mom didn’t work at all - she was a stay-at-home mother. We had just enough money to put food on our table.

Compared to the other girls at school, my clothes weren’t as nice. They weren’t brand name, expensive, or beautiful by any means. I often got hand-me-down clothes from my mother and father, so they would always be sizes too big.

When I was finally old enough to have a decent job, I was able to get clothes and items that actually fit me. Every paycheck I received went only to the necessities though. I was never able to get anything I really desired.

Money never mattered to me. I didn’t care that everyone I went to school with was wealthier than me. What I did care about was that they were more loved than I was. Everything changed after my mom died - which is one of the many reasons I wanted to leave Florida.

After she passed, all I ever wanted was to have my father care. But he never did; no one cares about me anymore.

Having the tip money in my pocket was sort of burning a hole through. I didn’t enjoy having a lot of money; it made me feel like I was similar to those stuck-up girls. And I never wanted to be like them.

However, I needed this money because I didn’t have much when I arrived in Ohio. I had the money that I saved up for college; although, I don’t think I’ll be able to go.

Don’t get me wrong. I wanted to go. H*ll, I wanted to become an artist when I grew up. The only problem was I didn’t, and would never, have enough money to afford college tuition. Even with student loans, whoever has enough money to pay it back?

Since I can’t go to college, I decided that the first thing I would do is invest in my own apartment. Therefore, I’m going to have to earn a decent amount of money. I can never be more grateful for this job at the Black Star.

I was looking forward to getting an apartment of my own. Ever since mom died, I’ve had to pick up all the pieces. I had to mature faster than most girls my age. I had to become independent and rely on myself for everything.

By the time five o’clock rolls by, I’m tired as h*ll. My body ached in the worst places, and all I wanted right now was to take a nice, hot shower.

The bartender, Chris, came in at around four - just like Melanie said he would. When she pointed him out, he looked just like the all-American guy. He was twenty-one years old, tall, buff, had hair that was dark-blonde, and blue-eyed.

Despite the cocky exterior, he was a pleasant and friendly person to be around. We talked a little about ourselves; however, I didn’t give too much about myself away. From the sound of it, he didn’t have much to tell either.

The other staff members came in shortly before the end of my shift was approaching.

Jim came around to usher us out of the bar, insisting that we have already worked too hard. To be honest, even though I was exhausted, I didn’t want to leave. The people were nice, the staff was friendly, and it gave me something to do rather than sit at home all day. I wouldn’t mind working extra hours; I really enjoyed it.