Page 28 of Shameful Addictions

Charlotte pushed the girl’s hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t touchher!” the shorter friend shrieked. “Bitch!”

Charlotte started backing away. She ran into someone and turned around, an apology already rising to her lips. Ten people stood behind her, forming a sort of ring at her back, with more behind them. “Excuse me.” She stepped forward. Cruel hands pushed at her, shoved her back.

Angry shouts flew from the crowd, the fury of the original two girls spreading, worked into a frenzy by mob mentality. Charlotte flashed back to the horrendous scenes in and outside of the courthouse and felt dizzy.

A man in a black uniform shoved his way through the crowd, arms waving. “Back up!” he commanded. “Back up! What the hell is going on?”

The shorter girl pointed at Charlotte. “She pushed my friend!”

“What?” Charlotte exclaimed, forgetting herself in her outrage. She was meant to be the sympathetic figure here, the one people would want to empathize with and give a chance. But damn, all of this was so unfair. “I was minding my own business!”

The security guard threw a sharp glare at the crowd. “You’re all making a scene. Get out of here. Leave this to the person whosejobit is to handle this.”

No one seemed interested in listening to him, though, not even with the veiled insult he threw at them. They only cared about Charlotte.

Charlotte spun, searching the crowd. Someone familiar stood against the far wall, as far away from her as they could possibly get. Link Parskey, now fully bald, his head gleaming under the light.

“Link!” Charlotte shouted, waving to him. “Link, please. You saw, didn’t you?”

He defended me. He should have my back.

Link looked at her as though he had never seen her before in his entire life and walked away.

“No!” she cried, furious.

The security guard grabbed her by the shoulder. “Hey!” he barked, to get her attention. “Look, I know you’re here to get a job, but you’re causing a disturbance. Leave. Don’t come back. Or I’ll have to call the cops.”

“Call the cops anyway,” the taller girl shouted over his shoulder.

The guard rolled his eyes. “Just go, lady. I don’t give a shit why these people hate you. But if you stick around, they’ll tear you to pieces.”

“But this is my chance!” Hot, flustered, Charlotte ripped her jacket off, which put her too-big dress–and her right breast–on full display. “I need this. Please. My resumes…”

“I’ll call the cops,” the guard sighed.

Horrified, Charlotte cried out again. “No!”

She was doing this toavoidgoing to jail!

She had no choice. Truly, she had no choice.

Charlotte backed away. Somehow, miraculously, the crowd parted around her to let her pass. She turned and made her way out of the convention center, pulling stares and glares after her the entire way. She was a magnet, pulling bad attention everywhere she went.

There was a trash bin outside the front door of the center. Charlotte tossed her resumes in there, to be with the other pieces of garbage.

She couldn’t do that again.

She went back to applying for jobs online, to no avail. She applied for financial aid, and was denied.

She sold her car, and she broke her lease agreement to move to a smaller apartment. She auctioned off all but two pairs of her shoes, and even one night attempted to become a car-hire driver. The car-hire company turned her down, citing behavioral issues discovered during a background check.

At the end of that month, she was left in the same position where she had started.

Time to swallow her pride again.

She went to a salon an hour away to get her dark roots covered up and then went back to Mamba’s office, showing up unannounced.

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