I had a text from West but I didn't read it. I didn’t want to open it and give him the satisfaction ofknowingI read it.
I know, I know. I’m very mature.
That would all have to wait until my shift was done. If I had another night like last night, I doubted I’d be getting many tips. Pete would fire me if I wasted another drink. No one wanted a waitress who couldn’t remember their order, or who fell on her ass in front of the entire bar.
I went inside and headed for the locker room. Luckily I had a spare outfit tucked away. I changed into a black cropped tank top and a black leather mini skirt. My bandage was still in plain sight, but wearing long sleeves was strictly forbidden as an Aces server. Whatever, I didn’t have the energy to care at the moment.
The night went by slowly and the drunks were extra-annoying, which meant I spent much of my time schooling my facial expressions and curt tone. During my break, I went back to my locker to check my phone. Old habits die hard.
Bronx sent me a text.
Bronx: I’m not sure if your phone’s on, but this was just posted...
He sent a screenshot of the latest post [email protected] Even without an account, I still got the pleasure of seeing the dumbass’s posts.
It was a picture from last night–Mr. Reynolds dropping me off at home. There was nothing risqué about it, it was completely innocent, but with the caption and how late it was when he dropped me off, it looked suspicious.
Mr. Hottie art teacher is helping our resident south side slut dry her tears. How sweet. I hope he doubles up!
I sent Bronx a text before going back to work.
Me: I deleted my account. I don’t give a fuck what they have to say anymore.
I took a deep breath and tried to center myself. I couldn’t let this shit get to me anymore. I couldn’t keep cutting. Even though it felt good in the moment, it wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism.
Not like weed, alcohol, and sex were.
I counted down from ten, trying to relax.
“You alright, girl?” Chloe asked me as she walked in for her break.
“No, I’m not.”
“I have something that might help,” she smiled with bright red lips that matched her hair. She opened her locker and pulled out a flask. “It’ll take the edge off.”
“Thanks,” I said before taking it from her and slamming back a few swigs.Tequila.
“No problem. I don’t come to work without my old faithful right here.” She patted the flask and tucked it back into her locker.
“What’s that say about where we work?”
“Girl, you have no idea.”
37
West
Fucking.Reynolds.
She got a ride home from Reynolds.
How did that happen? Did he go to Aces and see her there, wait around until her shift was done and give her a ride home? Or did she get his number and call him for a rescue because I was drunk at Axel’s?
Fuck.
I punched the heavy bag in front of me, taking out my aggression on the inanimate object. I wanted to be slamming my fists to that fucker’s face. He thought he was so smooth, using his status as a teacher to play innocent. He was a snake. I couldn’t believe Ashtyn didn’t see that.
Jab. Jab. Uppercut. Kick.