I was 16 years, 11 months, and 20 days old when my mom walked out on my family. The baby was only four months old and the other two were nine and eleven. My dad was out drinking when my mom walked out of the house with her suitcase in hand. She didn't kiss us or hug us goodbye. All she said was, "I have to get out of here, Louis. I can't take it anymore. It would do you well to do the same."
I didn't try to stop her, and I didn't bother to cry. Tears weren't going to bring her back. All hope of her return left me after she was gone for eleven days, which was also the day of my 17th birthday. I quit counting after that. My father didn't seem too bothered by her absence either. His only concern was who was going to cook dinner. Of course that responsibility fell to me. Everything fell to me. I was a 17-year-old high school student with a minimum wage job at a slummy movie rental place that had just inherited three kids. Life as I knew it was over.
When people heard about my mom's unceremonious departure, they all seemed to make their own assumptions about what happened to make her walk out. Undoubtedly, Francis, our nosy, widowed neighbor whose highlight in life was watching Downtown Abbey every afternoon, was the one with the most theories. It seemed as if she'd decided to link every argument, every cross word, every insignificant spat, any inkling of discord she'd overheard during the twelve years we'd been neighbors and weaved them into one gigantic cock and bull story.
It certainly didn't help that we lived in a trailer park that represented every cliche ever known to man. Across the street there was a teenage girl that couldn't have been much older than Lottie, my 13-year-old sister. She lived with a man who was at least a few years older than me. I knew this because he'd been a senior in high school when I was only a freshman. However, I heard he'd dropped out, and I wasn't at all surprised because the one time I'd spoke to him in passing, he hadn't seemed all that bright. I was surprised he even made it to the twelfth grade in the first place. His child bride was barefoot and pregnant, and I often passed her in the Laundromat down the street. Sometimes I felt sorry for her, but it was usually just a passing emotion.
On the next row over there was a couple I suspected was running a meth lab. They had people in and out of their trailer all hours of the day. Whenever I drove by their trailer, there was always the smell of chemicals in the air. The landlord's son frequented that particular lot rather often. I had the inkling perhaps they were trading drugs for free rent. Of course these suspicions weren't unfounded, but I usually preferred not to think about what roused my suspicions on the first place. Besides, it really wasn't any of my business and after having people speculate about the details of my family's situation, I decided to just butt out.
The man who lived in the back row of trailers had just been released from prison after serving five years for molesting a ten-year-old girl. I'd been disgusted when I found out about him from the woman across the street. She was one of the few women who actually took enough care to pay any attention to what was going on in the trashy little trailer park. Since the man, Viggo McCarty, moved in I'd refuse to let my siblings leave the house unsupervised.
Galadriel lived two trailers down, and she'd been my babysitter when I was younger. She used to keep an eye on me while my parents were at work, and after my mom walked out and I was left to take care of things around the house, Galadriel offered to watch on my youngest sister, Phoebe. She was only four months old at the time, and I was worried the elderly woman wouldn't be able to handle it, but I had no choice. Besides, Galadriel said she wasn't ready to go anytime soon. I often thought of her as the grandmother I never knew, as my father's mother had passed away when I was only five, and my mom was estranged from most of her family. I'd only met her sister a few times, and I hadn't felt particularly fond of her either.
Galadriel also kept an eye on Lottie and Fizzy, my eleven-year-old sister, after school or during the summer when I had to work. As time passed after our mom left and they got older, they decided they were old enough to take care of themselves after school. Lottie was fairly responsible, but I suppose I didn't give her much choice in the matter. When I wasn't home, she had to be my eyes and ears and had to keep things together.
Our father was useless, as he was often fired from any job he managed to acquire. His drinking always seemed to cause some sort of a problem, but he never seemed to care. His one true passion in life was music. He and some of this friends formed a band when I was ten, and they'd been playing together ever since. It was the one thing my father cared about. It didn't even faze him that he was in his late thirties with four kids that needed to be fed and his wife was nowhere to be seen. I was usually lucky if I could wrangle a few spare dollars out of him to buy groceries. I had no idea how my mom ever held things together and managed to pay the bills.
Once she was gone and it became apparent I'd have to take on the adult role around the house despite having just turned seventeen, I had to step up and come to an agreement with my father. If he gave me half his check to pay for bills, he could have the rest to do with as he pleased. I wouldn't ask for more and I wouldn't complain. That was probably the only decent thing he ever did.
Simon Landry was our landlord. I'd say he was the scum of the earth, but that title was reserved for his son, Jyles. Honestly, Simon never did anything to me. In fact, I'm not sure he's ever done much of anything, really. He usually liked to sit in his house at the entrance to the trailer park in his favorite recliner with a beer in hand and a TV tray in front of him with a microwave dinner. I believe the concept of hygiene was beyond him. He always wore shorts with a stained wife beater. He was short, fat, and bald and married to a woman named Lauren who had an uncanny resemblance to Monica Geller and the man voice to boot.
As I've said, their son, Jyles, was the scum of the earth in my opinion. Since his lazy ass father had difficulty removing his rear end from his blue leather recliner, Jyles had the task of collecting rent each month. Whenever the first of the month came, I dreaded it. Regardless of what lengths I'd go to in attempts to evade seeing Jyles, he always seemed to be in the office when I came in to pay rent.
Jyles was annoying, foul, and horny, and to put it plainly, it had been his mission to try to get in my pants since I was thirteen. He was two years older than me, and I'd been interested for about five seconds before I woke up and realized how disgusting he really was.
Any day I had to encounter Jyles Landry was considered a bad day, so I didn't know whether to laugh or cry on the morning of September first when I woke up, looked at the calendar and realized not only was the rent due but it was also the first day of school for Lottie and Fizzy.
It wasn't unusual for my day to start before the sun was even out, but it didn't stop the groan from escaping my lips as I hit the alarm clock and rubbed my eyes sleepily before climbing out of bed. Lottie and Phoebe were still in their beds fast asleep. It seemed as if they'd trained themselves to sleep through the alarm. I had a feeling that was going to be a bad thing later in life.
I tiptoed through the dark room and grabbed my clothes from on top of my dresser. Setting them out the night before was now more out of habit than thought these days. My mom had been gone over two years, and many things had changed during that time and a new routine had been set. We had to have a routine. Lottie, Fizzy, and Phoebe needed some sort of order in their life. Even if I couldn't control all of the craziness in the outside world, at least I could make sure their mornings and nights made some sort of sense.
I slipped out of the room and made my way to the bathroom. It was small and cramped to most, but it was just a part of life in the Tomlinson residence. Everything was small and cramped. I had to get up at the crack of dawn to take a shower just to ensure Lottie would have enough hot water for a shower when she got up. Fizzy and Phoebe had to bathe the night before because the hot water supply just couldn't handle more than two people a night. We usually left our dad to his own devices. He was a grown man. He could shower when he wanted as long as it didn't interfere with our schedule.
My morning schedule never seemed to waver. Use the bathroom. Brush my teeth. Turn on the water. Just a degree above lukewarm. Wash my face. Wash my hair. Wash my body. Shave my beard. Shave under my arms. Rinse off. Turn off the water. Dry off. Get dressed.
Sometimes I wondered why I even bothered to shave my beard. It was really a perfect waste of two whole minutes of my morning. Perhaps it was just one of the few things I felt I had to do for myself. It wasn't as if I anyone ever touched my face. My love life was nonexistent. As a gag joke, Zayn and Josh from work gave me a dildo. They theorized that if you didn't use it, you lose it. I had no worries about losing my dick anytime soon, and I had no use for a vibrator. I had no time to have sex - even if it was with myself.
The only thing I bothered to take more than a minute to do was brush my hair. Galadriel called it my crown of glory. I called it the bane of my existence. Lottie, Phoebe, and I had inherited our mother's blonde-brownish mane and our father's freckles. Fizzy had neither. I had my suspicions this was because he didn't have the same father as the rest of us. I never really had any proof, and no one had ever voiced my suspicions.
However, when my mom got pregnant with Fizzy, my parents weren't exactly on the best of terms. Even though I was only eight at the time, I could clearly remember my parents fighting a lot and my dad being gone most of the time. Dave, one of his bandmates, spent a lot of time around the house then. More specifically, he spent a lot of time with my mom in my parents' bedroom.
Then one day the fighting stopped, my dad was home and my mom was pregnant. It wasn't until I was older that I understood the parts about my mom and Dave. I never could figure out why my parents were suddenly on good terms, though. I suppose it might have been the prospect of finally getting another daughter that might have brought my dad around. I wasn't even sure if it really mattered to him whether or not Fizzy was really his daughter. He had his name and would carry on the Tomlinson legacy. Whatever that was.
The challenge with my hair was keeping it tame. A thorough brushing was in order every morning, followed by the cheapest gel I could find. I didn't have the time to waste blow-drying it or I might have felt better about it. I was just worried about looking decent enough to go to work.
After I was ready, I went to wake up Lottie, so she could take her shower. She wasn't a morning person, and I never bothered to speak to her until after she was showered. I let Phoebe and Fizzy sleep while I fixed breakfast. On a good week, as far as in terms of money, breakfast consisted of bacon or sausage and eggs. Most weeks it was down to toast or pancakes. Bisquick had become my savior. It was cheap. I could buy one box and make it last. It was one of the few things I bought with a name brand on it.
As I moved around the kitchen preparing breakfast, I could hear Lottie moving around in the shower. The sound of the water was my background music for cooking. The bacon sizzled as I moved the eggs around in the other skillet. The coffee was brewing, slowly but surely. We'd had the same coffee maker for as long as I could remember. The water ran through slowly, but I was in no hurry to drink the cheap brew of coffee anyway. I drank it for the boost I needed in the morning. Once I got to work, I'd drink the real stuff. My manager, Alberto, always bought Folgers. Of course, he was single and childless and could afford the good stuff. I envied him.
The sound of water being turned off queued it was time to wake up Fizzy and Phoebe. I scooped the bacon and eggs onto the plates for the kids and sat them at the table before I headed down the thin hallway. The door to Fizzy's room creaked as I pushed it open. I cringed at the sound before stepping into the tiny room.
Fizzy often complained of having such a small bedroom, but in my book he was the luckiest by far. His bedroom might have been tiny, but at least he had a space all to herself whereas Lottie, Phoebe and I were cramped into the other bigger bedroom. Two beds and a playpen on top of a couple of dressers left us with virtually no space other than the small path we'd made in the room to get to our beds.
Fizzy was sprawled out on her stomach with her blankets and pillows scattered around. Fizzy was known for being a restless sleeper. She could go to sleep with his head at one end and wake up with it at the other. It was a wonder the middle sister got any rest. I suppose being a hyper eleven-year-old probably worked in her favor as far as energy was concerned.
I wrestled her out of bed and left her room as she was climbing sleepily out of bed. I went back to the room I shared with my other sisters and tickled Phoebe's belly. That was the easiest way to wake her up. It only took a moment before she started to stir and a smile broke out followed by a giggle. She opened her eyes to reveal vibrant blue. She rubbed them absently as I picked her up and balanced her on my hip.
"Hey, Phoebs," I said, kissing her forehead. "I bet you need a diaper change."
"I thought you were potty training her," Lottie commented, stepping into the room.
"It's hard to potty train her in the middle of the night," I said, rolling my eyes. "Did Fizzy come out of her room?"
Lottie leaned back and craned her neck to look down the hallway. "At table the eating," she said before going over to her dresser and grabbing the watch I bought her for her 13th birthday.
"Good," I said as I grabbed a pull-up from the bag and headed to the bathroom to clean Phoebe up.
Potty training was hell. Galadriel was really great about trying to get Phoebe to go the bathroom on the toilet, but she was getting older and couldn't move as fast, so getting Phoebe to the bathroom on time was a challenge, and I could only work with in her the evenings.
"I sleepy," Phoebe said, rubbing her eyes as I cleaned her up with a wipe.
"But it's time to get up and get moving, sleepy head," I said, kissing her on the nose as I opened the pull-up and told her to step in.
After Phoebe was clothed, I picked her up and carried her into the kitchen. I sat her down in her high chair. I buckled her in and sat her plate and fork on her tray along with her cup of juice.
Fizzy was almost finished eating, and Lottie was munching on a piece of bacon. "I want you both to come straight home after school," I said as I sat down and started to eat my breakfast.
"I can't go out with Marit or Marion after school?" Lottie asked, making a face.
"No, I want you here to keep an eye on Fizzy," I replied.
"I don't need a babysitter," he said, finishing off the last of his eggs.
I gave him a pointed look. "Do I need to remind you of your attempts to cook?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "We're lucky you didn't burn the place down."
"Too bad he didn't," Lottie muttered. "Such a shit hole."
"Lottie," I said, sending her a warning look before glancing at Phoebe to make sure she hadn't heard. She loved to repeat what people said, and the last thing I needed was for her to run around saying "shit hole."
"Well, we could have got the insurance money and got something better than this," she said, motioning around us.
"Hate to break it to you, but we don't have insurance," I replied, rolling my eyes as I took bite of my bacon.
"Ugh," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Why isn't that a shock?" she muttered as she stood up and headed down the hallway.
I sighed and rubbed my temples. This was just the first day of school and already I could see this year was going to be hell. At least I wasn't in school anymore. My senior year had been a complete nightmare. Everyone said I was trying to kill myself trying to go to school, work, and keep things in order at home. I couldn't count the times my school counselor had called me down to her office to talk. She always went on and on about how smart I was and how she knew I could pull my grades up if I just "tried a little harder."
Yeah, because I totally wasn't trying at all and just loved barely scraping by in class after staying up half the night working on homework and trying to get a baby to bed after spending my entire evening working just to get enough money to pay for the rent. I finally just told her to shut the fuck up about stuff she had no idea about. After that, I got transferred to a different counselor, Mrs. Murray. She was nice, and actually bothered to ask what the problem was. I didn't want to tell her about the situation at first, but when she suggested calling my parents to schedule a meeting, I just told her about my mom and said things were a little chaotic at home. After that, she laid off and even got some of the teachers to give me a little more time to make up some of my homework.
After I finished my cup of cheap coffee, I stood up and cleaned Phoebe off before taking her out of her high chair. "I'm going to take Phoebe down to Galadriel," I called down the hallway to Lottie. "Then I'll drop both of you off by the park entrance to wait for the bus."
"Gee, great," Lottie called sarcastically from our room. I rolled my eyes and grabbed Phoebe's diaper bag and checked to make sure all of her stuff was inside before I slung it over my shoulder along with my purse and picked up the two and a half year old and headed to the trailer two lots down.
I didn't bother to knock when I got there. I pushed the door open and put Phoebe down on the floor before shutting the door and then sitting her bag down on the couch. "Galadriel, we're here," I called.
"Isis. We here," Phoebe called. I smiled and ruffled her hair before I stepped around her and walked down the hallway.
"Galadriel?" I called.
I jumped when she poked her head out of the bathroom. "Oh, I didn't mean to scare you, Miki," she said, combing her fingers through her white hair. "Though I probably look a fright anyway. I was just puttin' my teeth in."
"Oh, Galadriel," I smiled and shook my head.
"Have any problems gettin' the kids up and movin' this morning?" she asked as we headed back down the hallway.
"Oh, Lottie's being her usual grouchy, sarcastic self," I replied. "Fizzy wasn't too bad, though."
"Well, Lottie's a growin' girl. You best just get used to attitude for the next few years," she commented. "It ain't goin' to get much easier."
"At least I don't have to worry about Phoebe for another ten or eleven years," I sighed.
Phoebe looked up from pushing her little stroller for her baby doll around when I said her name. The toy stroller was her second birthday present from Galadriel, and it was her favorite of all her toys. Since she spent most of her day with Galadriel, we just left it there.
"How's my favorite Phoebe?" Galadriel asked.
"Isis," Phoebe grinned and ran over to her and wrapped her arms around her legs.
"She already had breakfast, so she shouldn't be hungry anytime soon," I said. "And I guess I should get going. Lottie and Fizzy are probably waiting on me."
"Okay, have a good day at work," Galadriel said.
"I'll try," I grumbled as I stooped down and asked Phoebe for a hug. She ran over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. I kissed her cheek and hugged her back before I stood up. "Bye, bye, Phoebs."
"Bye, bye mama," she replied, waving at me as I headed out the door.
Phoebe's first words had been 'ma ma' and when she said them, she'd been reaching for me. I tried to teach her to call me Louis, but she refused to do it. Galadriel said it was only natural for her to call me 'mama' since I was the only mother she ever knew. At first I had been weirded out by the idea of my baby sister calling me her mom, but after a while I grew used to it, and essentially, she was my child. I cared for her, and I loved her.
The first person she walked to was me. I was the one who stayed up with her at night when she was teething and couldn't sleep. I took her to all of her doctor's appointments. I was always there. I was the constant in her life. She probably couldn't remember our mom. Our dad was usually always gone, and when he was around, she didn't seem too keen on him. This wasn't a surprise given none of us were too fond of him. He was just like a stranger that slept in our house on occasion.
I waved goodbye to Phoebe and Galadriel before I headed back to my car. Lottie was leaning against the passenger's side of my car with her arms crossed when I got back. She looked tired and grouchy, and I rolled my eyes, wondering if this was just a part of teenage moodiness or if her obvious foul mood was caused by anything specific. It felt like a million years since I'd been her age. In truth, most of the time I forgot I was just six years older than her.
"Spill it," I said as I dug my keys out of my purse.
"Spill what?" Lottie asked, looking at me over her shoulder as I unlocked the driver's side of my rust colored 1970 Monte Carlo. It was my sixteenth birthday present from my parents. They paid a few hundred dollars for it, but I had to buy a new engine, new transmission, and new exhaust system just to get the thing running. For some reason I felt a little cheated by this, but at the time fixing it up was my biggest worry in life. It wasn't as if I'd known eventually it would become the family vehicle. If I'd known, I probably would have just asked my parents to get me a station wagon. After all, I was basically a soccer mom running the kids here there and everywhere. Well, everywhere except soccer practice because I couldn't afford to sign them up to play any sports.
"Do I really have to come straight home after school?" Lottie asked. "It's the first day of school. I thought I'd hang out with Marit and Marion after school since I barely got to see them over the summer."
"Lot, I'm sorry," I sighed. "I just can't trust Fizzy to be left alone."
"Can't she stay with Galadriel?" she asked.
"She has her hands full with Phoebe," I replied. "Besides, she'd probably drive her crazy."
"Oh, so it's okay if she drives me crazy instead?" she asked, turning fully around to look at me.
"Maybe you can do something with Marit and Marion later this week," I suggested as I pulled the driver's side door open. "Like this weekend."
Lottie rolled her eyes and huffed as I leaned into the car across the front seat and unlocked the passenger's side door. She pulled it open, silently glaring daggers at me. I chose to ignore her. I knew she was mad. I even understood why she was so upset. I knew firsthand what it was like not to be able to spend time with friends and have fun. Hell, I thought she was lucky for even having any friends.
"Where the hell is Fizzy?" I asked as I stood back up. I ran up the front steps and stuck my head into the trailer. "Fizzy, come on. You're going to miss the bus, and then I'm just going to have to kill you."
I heard scuffling coming from the back of the trailer and a moment later Fizzy appeared, pulling his backpack on over his shoulders. I sent him a weary look as he hurried out the front door past me and I locked the door before pulling it shut. "What were you doing in there?" I asked as Fizzy climbed into the back seat.
"Jacking off," Lottie muttered.
"Lottie," I said, shaking my head as Fizzy turned red as she sat down in the backseat beside Phoebe's car seat and said, "Was not!"
I pushed my seat back before getting into the car. I started the car and put the car into drive as Lottie fiddled with the radio, trying to find something decent to listen to. It didn't matter how long we were in the car for. She always felt the need to play with the radio. I eased the car out onto the cracked pavement. The whole drive needed to be redone. When we first moved to the trailer park, it had been black pavement, but in the years since then it had begun to crumble and was littered with potholes. Trying to drive over it going more than five miles per hour was a death wish for your car no doubt. I practically had to stop just to go over the speed bumps that were strategically placed throughout the driveway.
When we got to the front of the parking lot, there was already a group of kids waiting at the side of the road for the bus to pick them up. "I need lunch money," Lottie commented as I put the car into park.
I sighed and pulled my wallet out of my backpack. I took out a five and told her to see if she could stretch it a couple of days until I got my check. She made a face but didn't argue. Instead she pushed her door open and hopped out of the car as I opened my door and pulled the lever to make my seat go forward so Fizzy could climb out.
"Have a good day at school," I called after them and Lottie as they ran over to the group of kids waiting for the bus. I pushed my seat back and pulled my door close before putting the car back into drive. I watched as Lottie chatted with one of the older looking boys and rolled my eyes. I had a feeling she was going to be boy crazy and I was going to be in serious trouble when she wanted to start dating, but I shook the thought from my head. It was much too early to even bother thinking about that. I needed a strong cup of coffee before I let my mind wonder down that path.
It took about ten minutes to get to work. Reel Time was the only movie rental place on our side of time. It was placed between a liquor store and a Chinese restaurant, and with that sort of a combination it was easy to imagine the kinds of people that passed our windows on a daily basis. Alberto, my manager, often liked to joke and say our block was a one-stop supply for the weekend. Food, booze, and movies all in a row. It was true that people often went into the Chinese restaurant and ordered dinner before coming in to rent some movies before going to the liquor store to pick up their weekend supply of beer.
When I got to work, I parked in the employ parking lot in back and locked up the car before going in through the back door. It was Tuesday, which meant any new rentals would have come in the night before. I put my purse in my locker before going into the break room. The smell of strong, freshly brewed coffee hit me immediately and I took a deep breath as I crossed the room to the coffeemaker. I grabbed a Marvel cup and poured myself a cup of rich, black caffeine. I took my coffee black with two sugars. I stirred it and brought it up to my nose and took a deep breath before taking a sip. The hot sweetness invaded my senses and I savored the flavor. Yes, at nineteen one of the few pleasures in my life was a real cup of coffee. My mere existence was truly pathetic.
I took my coffee and headed into the front of the store, where I found Alberto unpacking one of the boxes. "Starting without me?" I asked. "I'm hurt."
"Good morning, Louis," he smiled, looking up from the box he was unpacking.
"Not so sure about the good part just yet," I replied.
"Why does that not surprise me?" Alberto replied, running a hand through his short wavy hair. "Get the kids off to school alright?"
"Oh, I suppose," I shrugged.
Alberto was a good guy, and for me to say that it had to be true considering I felt most of the males were a waste of space. Alberto hired my to work at Reel Time just after I turned sixteen when no one else would give me a chance. Coming from a trailer park came with a reputation. Most storeowners considered kids from "the park" untrustworthy trash. I couldn't really blame them since most of them were delinquents who'd rather steal than actually work. If Alberto had reservations about hiring me, he never showed them.
He was a single twenty-something that lived on the good side of town. How he ever wound up in poor town was beyond me. I suppose it was just luck of the draw. Like most of us he seemed to be waiting for something better to come along. He seemed to enjoy his job, though. He rarely complained and was a fair guy.
I suppose my perception of fair might have been a tad bit marred. I didn't like to think of him as playing favorites, but anytime I needed a little extra money, he'd give me the hours I needed. He was also really understanding after my mom first left and things were crazy at home. I had been so afraid of being fired. With my grades dropping rapidly and running all over the place just trying to make sure bills were paid and my siblings were fed, it was a challenge to make it to work on time. Alberto was one of the few people who gave me the break I needed to get my life in order.
Not many people like their jobs and maybe I was a little crazy - it wouldn't be out of the question - but I found the morning hours at work before the store opened to the public to be peaceful and maybe even a little enjoyable. Alberto and I usually stocked the shelves with the new releases. The rest of the morning was usually spent checking the overnight returns back in and putting them back on the shelves and straightening up the store. We opened at 10:30, but the mornings were usually slow. I'd man the front of the store while Alberto did paperwork in the back.
Things usually didn't pick up until the evening and a couple other people usually came in even though it wasn't really necessary. At most we usually only needed a couple of people up front, so when my coworkers Zayn, Josh, and Grant showed up at work midmorning I was surprised to say the least.
At first when I heard noises in the break room, I thought it was just Alberto cleaning up, but when I heard Zayn's girlish laugh, I decided to check it out and see what was going on. When I stepped into the room, I found Josh and Grant seated at the table at the center of the room. Josh was a puffing on his ever-present cigarette. I was amazed he ever managed to get anything done because he smoked more than anyone I'd ever seen, which meant taking several breaks every hour. he reeked of the cheap menthol cigarettes he smoked and the cheap perfume he often sprayed on herself afterward to cover the smell. He was the main source of many headaches and the reason I carried a bottle of ibuprofen in my purse.
Grant had his head down on the table. He was probably seconds away from passing out. Grant was a 17-year-old high school drop out. He spent his days in bed, his evenings at work, and his nights out late partying. Most days I found it was a miracle he was even still alive because to look at him most would think he was seconds from death. I suppose going through life in a drug-induced haze might have been better than facing reality. I just thought he was lucky Alberto didn't randomly drug test us. Not that it would really affect Grant that much if he were fired. His dad owned the strip club down the street, and the only thing keeping him from working for his dad was his age.
Zayn was sitting on the counter eating a doughnut and smiling. Zayn could only be described as bubbly. Whereas I considered Josh a bit of a cynic like myself, Zayn was an optimist. Sure, I thought he was a bit unrealistic and a tad bit dingy, but he was likeable for the most part. If anything, he was the closest to normal in my opinion. he grew up in "the park" as well, and his dad was in prison. His mom remarried and they moved into an apartment. They were still living in what most considered poor town, but I figured not living in a place with wheels underneath it was a step up in the world.
"What are you guys doing here?" I asked curiously.
"Alberto called us in for a meeting," Josh replied, puffing on her cigarette.
"About what?" I asked.
Josh shrugged, and I glanced at Zayn who did the same. I shrugged in kind just as Alberto came out of his office. He looked at me. "Oh, good, you're here already," he commented.
"What's up, Alberto?" Zayn asked as I crossed the room and sat down next to Grant at the table.
Alberto crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe. "Well, you all know there had been some talk of the store being bought out, right?" When we all nodded, Alberto took that as his cue to continue. "Well, I just got a call from up top, and the sale went through."
"What does that mean?" I asked uncertainly.
"It means the store is going to be under new owners, which means new management," Alberto explained.
"Are we going to lose our jobs?" Zayn asked, voicing my own worries.
"No," Alberto replied. "I'm going to be relocated to another store, and they're going to send in someone new to implement the changes here."
"You're leaving?" I asked.
Alberto nodded.
"No, Alberto, you can't," Josh said.
"That's just the way it is," he shrugged. "Don't worry. I'll still be around. Besides, they might bring in someone younger and cooler than me," he winked.
I wasn't exactly sure what to say. We'd heard about the possibility of Reel Time being bought out by someone else, but I hadn't really thought too much about it. I certainly hadn't thought Alberto or any of us would be leaving the store. Secretly, I'd always hoped that if Alberto were to leave for some reason I'd be promoted to store manager. I'd been there for just over three years. I knew how things were done, and I could certainly use the raise in pay that came along with the higher position.
"You don't know who they're sending in?" I asked.
Alberto shook his head. "I should be finding out later today," he replied.
"Well, this fucking sucks," Grant muttered, lifting his head slightly so we could hear him.
"Hey, don't talk like that," Alberto said. "This could be a good thing. They're going to come in and clean up the store, make some changes. There's even been talk of a raise in pay."
"What? Twenty-five cents?" Josh asked, rolling her eyes. Apparently he hadn't forgot about the sorry excuse they called our yearly raised either. In the three years I'd worked at Reel Time I'd went from making five twenty five to six dollars, and I certainly didn't feel like that was anything to brag about.
Alberto gave Josh his "I'm going to level with you here" look and said, "I don't know how much. I'm just saying that it's not like this place couldn't use some changes."
"But why do you have to leave?" I asked.
"They're sending me to get some training and then I'm going to go work at another one of their stores in London," he explained. "They've already made the changes there, and I'm going in the replace the temp manager they sent in to make the changes."
"That just sounds stupid," Josh commented.
Zayn was unusually quiet. I glanced at her. It looked as though even he was having a hard time "looking at the bright side" of things. I didn't even have the courage to take a stab at him over it either, which was really saying something given snide remarks were one of the few joys I had left in life.
"So, what's going to happen after this new person comes in and makes all these changes?" I asked. "Are they going to send in someone new to take over or what?"
"You're just worried you aren't going to be promoted," Josh commented.
"Shut up," I said, shooting him a glare. I looked at Alberto for an answer.
"I'm not sure," he replied. "Don't worry, Louis. I'll be sure to give you a good recommendation for the position if they're looking to fill it with existing employees."
"That wasn't why I was asking," I said, rolling my eyes.
"Yeah, right," Grant smirked.
"Fuck you. No one asked you," I glared. "Why don't you just go back to your drug induced coma?"
"Ooh, hitting below the belt today, aren't we, Louis?" Grant retorted.
I rolled my eyes as Alberto cleared his throat. "There's no sense in getting worked up for no good either," he said. Grant looked at me, and I gave him the finger. "That goes for all of you," Alberto clarified. "Now get back to work."
I stood up, shaking my head. I hated change, and I wasn't afraid to admit it. I liked having a routine. I liked knowing what was going to happen. There was something about the unknown that was unsettling for me. Perhaps I'd been thrown for too many loops in my short life, and it'd left me striving for some sense of stability and normality. Either way, I wasn't looking forward to whatever changes were going to take place in the near future.
The day seemed to drag on after Alberto decided to drop this bomb on us. How he could be so calm about finding out he was being relocated I had no idea. If it were me, I'd probably be throwing the biggest fucking hissy fit ever known to man. But then again I guess I couldn't blame Alberto. After all, the relocation meant getting out of this hellhole. East London was far from ritzy, but it was definitely a step up in the world. Who could say no to that?
By the end of my shift, I was ready to get out of there. Normally, work was one of the few places I frequented that I considered calm, and now it was taking an upheaval and it felt like a slap in the face. So much for having one place of peace. I drove back to the trailer park, and I almost forgot to stop by the office to pay the rent. It was lucky it crossed my mind as I turned into the front entrance because the last thing I needed was Jyles coming to the trailer to tell me I forgot to pay the rent. It was bad enough having to face him in the office. I didn't need his crudeness contaminating the trailer too.
I backed into the parking spot in front of the office and grabbed my nackpack and took my time walking inside. The bells above the door jingled and I was relieved Jyles wasn't out front as I walked over to the counter. I took out my checkbook and began to fill it out. I never paid the rent in cash because I didn't trust Jyles or his dad. I wouldn't put it past them to try to say I didn't pay just so they could try to charge me double. Not to mention I was pretty sure they had some shady business deals going on under the table that wasn't making it into their taxes. The idea of them being audited was often a crude sense of amusement for me. I delighted in the idea of their pain. Perhaps I was a closet sadist.
As I was signing the check and just about to drop in onto the desk, thinking I'd managed to escape the wrath of Jyles, he waltzed into the office from the back.
"Well, hello, Louis," he grinned.
"Hi, Jyles," I replied monotonously. I held out the check to him, and he wrapped his hand around mine and slid it down until he latched onto the check and plucked it out of my hand.
He looked it over. "I was beginning to think you'd forgot it was the first of the month," he commented as he looked over the check.
"I didn't forget," I replied. "Some of us have to work, though."
"Why Louis, are you trying to say what I do isn't work?" he asked, placing his hand over his heart. "I'm hurt."
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Can I get a receipt for that?"
"Of course," Jyles smiled as he walked over to the desk and began to fill out the receipt. "So, busy tonight?"
"I'm always busy, Jyles," I replied.
"That's what you always say," he said, shaking his head. "You really do need to relax more and chill out."
"I don't have time to chill out," I pointed out.
"Oh, come on," he said, smiling as he walked over to me to hand me the receipt. "I could help you relax right now if you needed to. Just a few minutes in the back and you'll be right as rain."
"Right as rain? What does that mean anyway?" I replied, shaking my head. "And just a few minutes? That's all? That doesn't say much for your stamina, does it?"
The smile dropped right off of Jyles's face as I plucked the receipt out of his hand. I flashed him a toothy grin before turning and heading for the door. I pushed it open and held it open with my hip as I looked over my shoulder. "Good night, Jyles," I said before I headed back out to my car.
I mentally tallied another point for myself as I started my car. I'd lost count of the numerous times Jyles had tried to bed me. I think it bruised his ego to know I refused to fall prey to his attempts at seduction. Nearly every other boy in the park had fallen for his pathetic excuse for charm. Of course, all those other boys were probably just looking for someone to love them and tell them they were special. I didn't need to hear that. I didn't believe in love, and I already knew I wasn't special. As far as I was concerned, Jyles could just keep on trying, but his efforts were always going to come up empty. I wasn't interested. Sex was the last thing on my mind. I was too busy worrying about whether or not I had enough food in the fridge to whip something up for dinner.