"Holy hell, we need to get you off the poor train. Did you hear what you just said?" She looks over at me briefly, before returning her gaze to the road.
I nod and totally don't care. The leather is warm and I have my head tipped back and my eyes closed. "You try living with Amber for a semester and we'll see what crazy crap comes out of your mouth."
"Did she lock you out again?"
"Yeah," I nod. "She's probably having sex with her creepy boyfriend on my couch." I need more Lysol. I cringe thinking about it. How I ended up with such a rank roommate is beyond me. It's like the university asked me all those questions on the roommate application thingie to see if I could manage using a pencil okay. I thought I proved that I could use a pencil when I took my SATs. Guess not.
Melony's little car darts through traffic. We stop at a light and she looks at me. "That guy gives me the creeps."
"Me too. It's like her guy radar only picks out soon-to-be-felons. Listen, my nerves are so frayed, I can't talk about Amber anymore. My frickin' eye is twitching." And it is. The lower right lid is going nuts, blinking for no reason. I press my finger to it, trying not to smear my make-up.
"Fine by me. So," she changes the subject, "are you seeing anyone?"
I laugh in response, and then realize she's really asking, "Uhm, no. With what time? If I'm not at class, I'm at work. If I'm not at work, I'm at class. I don't even have time to sleep. Am I dating?" I say mockingly and laugh, shaking my head. My dark hair falls over my shoulders.
"Back off, Cujo. I was just asking, trying to get a feel for things."
"What things? Things that'll never happen this side of hell."
"Sounding a little bitter there, Avery."
I smile weakly at her. She's just trying to help. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. Today had to be the worst day of my life. Besides the douche that stole the car, I had the worst customer. He screamed at me forever and then went to my boss. I'm a f**king hostess. Like I have anything to do with his meal?" I press my fingers to my head and lean my elbow on the door. My job is to seat people at a steakhouse. That's it. I have nothing to do with anything else, but this guy wouldn't back off. He seemed to think his night was ruined because of me. By the time he got hold of the manager, somehow everything was my fault. My boss made me look like it was my fault and that sums up my night at work. Absentmindedly, I twist a lock of my hair between my fingers. "It was just one of those days and I'm sick of having them."
"My job is a little unorthodox, but I never have to deal with that shit." Mel shifts in her seat.
I glance at her. "Unorthodox? What do you mean?"
"You'll just have to wait and see." We drive on in silence.
About forty minutes later, we are at a building in Manhattan. A street light floods the sidewalk in front. It looks like an office building. We go inside and ride the elevator up to the seventeenth floor. When the doors open, we're standing in an open space. The room is decorated in browns and beiges with little splashes of color here or there. It looks like an office.
I glance at Mel. "I thought you worked at a hotel?"
"I do, but this is where I check in." She walks past me and turns a corner. I follow her down a hallway. Mel stops in front of an office door. She smoothes her dress, like she's nervous, and knocks. Looking back at me she says quickly, "Don't say anything. Just listen and answer whatever she asks you."
My brows pull together. What the hell am I doing here? Mel is dressed up and from the looks of it, we are in an empty office space. There's no music, no noise. It's totally silent.
"Enter," a female voice says, and Melony pushes the door open. A woman in her early forties sits behind a glass desk. She doesn't look up. "Right on time. Come in and close the door."
Mel's voice cracks, "I brought someone for you to meet." The woman at the desk lifts her eyes and sees me. She immediately shoots daggers at Mel. Mel holds up her hands, explaining, "I didn't say anything. I told her to come and talk to you. I didn't breech my contract, Miss Black. I need to keep this job, but my friend here is in the same position as I was and I thought you were looking for someone new."
I know Mel told me to stay quiet, but I can't. I don't want her to lose her job because of me. "It's all right. I can wait in the car." I turn to leave.
The woman behind the desk rises. Her gaze slips over me quickly. She says to Mel, "Family? Boyfriend? Funding?"
"No to all three," Mel answers.
I stop and stare at the two of them.
"Come with me, Miss. We'll have a chat. Melony can wait here." The woman walks swiftly past me. We move to a table in the back corner of the floor. There is a couch behind us and some more nondescript art on the walls. She sits at the table. It's metal with a glass top. I sit across from her and cross my ankles and pull them under my seat. It feels like an interview.
"Miss Black," I say apologetically, "I'm sorry for disrupting your evening. Mel said this was a good job and I need a good job, so I came."
She nods at me. Miss Black crosses her legs at the knee and leans back in her chair. "How old are you? Twenty-two?" I nod. "Family?"
"Deceased." I still feel the knot in my throat when I say it. I wonder if that'll ever go away.
"What are you attending school for?"
"I want to be a marriage and family counselor when I graduate. I have to finish undergrad and grad school first. I have a very generous scholarship that pays for my classes, fees, and books, but I still have to pay for rent and food."