Page 3 of F*ck You

2

Lee

Sunlight stabbed my retinas countless times over, even after I shut my eyes again in an attempt to block out the sharp light. My head felt like a ton of bricks when I lifted it, and I coughed and sputtered as sand fell from my mouth. The small granules were not very appetizing.

Something tugged at my hair, and I swung my hand around to shoo it away. Blocking the sun from my eyes, I opened them in time to see a seagull flying away after it failed to eat my hair like a French fry.

“Fuck,” I groaned as I rolled over, squinting while I slowly adjusted to the blinding light. My eyes nearly popped out when I saw a little boy’s head leaning over me, and then I sighed when it helped block out the sun. “Uh…”

Condensation from his popsicle wrapper sizzled on my heated skin where it fell on my forehead before a middle-aged woman grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away. I saw her disgusted looks and heard the judgmental mumbles before they both disappeared from sight.

Funny, since kids normally loved me, even though I could never figure out why. I didn’t think I was that scary, but then again, I wasn’t always a fucking delight.

My hand closed around a glass bottle when I went to push myself up, and memories from the night before flooded my mind.

“Shit.” The words sounded chalky coming out of my dried mouth. I rubbed my throbbing temples and then groaned when I realized I must have spilled the rest of the rum out on the sand. I didn’t have nearly the level of a hangover I should have for drinking the whole bottle. What a waste.

Lifting it up, I saw there were still a few sips left, and since there was so little, I thought what better way to get rid of it than to down the rest first thing in the morning. I had no plans or anywhere to be right now. The world was now my oyster and this rum was my damn pearl. Or were pearls only in clams? Fuck it, I made my own rules now and oysters could have fucking coal if I wanted them to.

After swallowing the last few drops of what was left of my liquid breakfast, I stood up and walked down the beach. The sand was still cool from the night before, soothing the soles of my feet as I walked. I located my boots close by, grateful I didn’t manage to lose one of the only two pairs of shoes I’d brought with me. Carrying my ankle boots underneath one arm, I deposited the empty bottle into a trash can and strolled along the shore, dipping my toes into the freezing water of the ocean to help wake me up. The sun must have only just risen, and there were people arriving with their arms full of towels and coolers, ready to claim their spots on the beach for the day.

Holding my hand against my forehead to block the sun from my eyes, I looked around in awe. It was much easier to see things now that the sun was out, and for the first time I noticed the long row of condos that lined the beach. I admired them, wondering what it took to be able to live in one. How amazing it would be to wake up on the beach every morning, preferably in a bed without a crotch full of sand. I squirmed at the thought, wondering if I should try and find a shower somewhere, wash out in the ocean, or settle for grabbing another bottle from the back of the truck and forget about it. Right as I was about to turn around and head to the truck to sleep off the rest of last night’s booze, I saw a sign with the words “For Rent” glittering in the early morning sun. I spun forward so fast that cold ocean water splashed up to my calf as I took off. When I reached the porch, I began pounding on the door with my fist.

This would be perfect. I’d always wanted to live on the beach, and I was now in the process of figuring out what the hell to do with my life. After all, when life throws you a sign, you follow it. This was how I was going to turn my lemons into margaritas.

The knocks vibrated through my fist, but I kept going. I was too impatient to stand there politely and wait for the owners to wake up.

I was so focused on pounding on the door that I barely registered it had opened until a woman was dodging my still pounding fist. “Oh—whoops, sorry.”

“Can I help you?” She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear with a huff and crossed her arms over her nightgown. Curlers were coming loose in her hair, and I could see gray peeking out at the roots. She clearly wasn’t pleased with being rudely awoken at whatever time of the morning this was, but that wasn’t my problem right now.

“I’d like to rent your condo.”

She arched an eyebrow as she looked at me like I’d been abducted by aliens and then abandoned right away. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m not. I’ll take it. How much to be able to start moving in today?”

The woman blinked, and she stood there frozen as she tried to decipher my words as though I was speaking a foreign language. I raised my fingers and snapped twice in front of her eyes until she blinked out of it. I was well aware it was possibly the rudest thing to do right now, but I didn’t really care. I would like to find a toilet and a shower stat. Plus, it would be nice to put my bottles in the fridge.

“You’re not serious, are you?” She looked me up and down with an expression of disgust turning up her lips.

Confused, I glanced down at myself and groaned. I had a vomit stain right in the middle of my t-shirt, which stood out against the onyx black. This wasn’t the least presentable I’d ever shown up to an interview, but it was still annoying as fuck.

“Look, lady.” I reached into the top of my shirt and pulled out a wad of hundred-dollar bills from my bra. I’d taken every dollar I could find in the house before I left, and this seemed like a worthy cause to use it. “I’m desperate here. I left my cheating dick of an ex, drove through the night until I literally couldn’t go any farther—on account of the large body of water out there—and I’m looking to start over. Please. It’s either this, or I walk up and down the shore all day everyday drinking and scaring away the tourists by making an ass out of myself. Let’s just be glad I’m wearing clothes this time, because I can’t guarantee that will be the case every day.”

After thinking it over for a minute, she cleared her throat and took the wad of cash from my hand. Licking her thumb, she counted it out. “This is enough to get you one month here. What do you plan to do after that?”

Shit. This place was more expensive than I thought. Although, if it was cheap, everyone would live here.

I shrugged. “I really have no idea. Maybe get a job and see what happens. Hopefully I can find one by then.”

Her eyes flashed. “Is this all you have?”

I nodded. “I really hadn’t thought very far out, it was all kind of in the moment.”

“What about food and utilities?”

“I have a box full of booze in the truck, and as for utilities, I suppose I should go out and find a job as soon as possible.”

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