Page 95 of Toxic Wishes

Abigail

“Without music to decorate it, time is just a bunch of boring production deadlines or dates by which bills must be paid.” — Frank Zappa

We come to new terms. I’m a tenant now, essentially. While the end goal is to stay here to save money for my place eventually, I can’t live off of him like I was. Maybe I could make excuses when the idea was up in the air, but now that there is a set plan, this needs to be fair, no matter how much he refuses.

“I don’t need your $80 for the water bill, Abigail.”

It’s been seven days since he forced me to leave my parents' house, and we’ve done this song and dance twice this week.

“I know you don’t, but I want to. Let me pay the electric bill,” I plead for what felt like the tenth time.

“No,” he barks.

“I got it.” I pick up the bill on the island counter in the kitchen, but he snaps it out of my hand with his ninja reflexes.

“Why would I tell you to stay here to save money and then tell you to spend more money by staying here?” He raises an eyebrow at me.

“I am saving money. And I can keep saving money by at least paying one bill, Colt. You already changed my car battery and had your friend come out and do the job. That was at least $500 worth of work, and he settled for a signed jersey and a good bottle of liquor.”

“He is a big Cardinals fan, sue me.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s not the point. I want to help pay some bills.”

“Or you could not pay any bills. Save more money and be out of here faster,” he says.

And that pissed me off. Maybe he didn’t want me here after all.

“No, wait.” he flinches. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t need your money. Okay? Let’s stop talking now. Please?” He holds up his hands to his sides.

But we didn’t. We kept bickering until he finally relented and let me have the gas bill and help with groceries. However, he made me promise not to replace his snacks or Bodie’s with anything organic or fat-free, to which I agreed. But that didn't mean I couldn’t buy other snacks. If he catches me sneaking in fair trade coffee and almond milk, I’ll tell him I forgot and grabbed the first thing I saw.

Today was my third night at Shifters, and the only attire they told me to wear was short and sexy. I know it’s a bar right by a strip club, but I hope I’ll make enough money this summer to save up more than my goal to relax during the school year. And so far, the tips and money are decent, so it’s easier for me to justify working at this sausage joint.

I heard Colt talking on the phone the other day about how some of the people the insurance companies hired were crap. One guy had been sick for two weeks with the flu, and another ordered the wrong color of wood for the floors in the kitchen but realized their mistake after they were nearly done. So he said he’ll be here for another two weeks for sure. Maybe longer. Which will equal a month. Once he’s gone, I’ll only have to worry about two months of living in this apartment while he rents out the rest of the house.

My phone rings as I’m applying mascara. I look down and smile as I answer the phone.

“There’s my girl,” Mel says. “Have you fucked him yet? Please tell me you have. I had a naughty dream last night, so I must fulfill my fantasy with a real one.”

“No,” I say through a laugh. “I haven’t fucked him.” I set the phone down and put it on speaker as I continued to apply my mascara.

She lets out a guttural groan. “Girl. What are you doing over there? And please don’t tell me you’re wearing your frumpy clothes around this hot NFL player. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. You better be flaunting that booty every chance you get in some sexy lingerie .”

“Excuse me.” I pull the mascara away as I look down at my phone.

“I love you, Ash, but you take the comfort thing a little too far sometimes.”

She was right. I loved wearing my comfy clothes and just being comfortable in general. I never dressed to impress like her, and stuff like that never crossed my mind.

I take a step back and look at myself in the mirror. I’m wearing a low-cut red T-shirt, a tight black mini-skirt, and comfy black tennis shoes since I’ll be on my feet all night. I trained after class on Tuesday, but this is my first real night working alone, which means it’s my first night making real money.

“Well, I’m not looking frumpy tonight, that's for sure,” I tell her as I glance at my ass, admiring how it looked in this skirt.

“Oh, girl. Are you wearing that black skirt? The one that makes your ass look amazing?”

Mel knew me all too well. “Yes, I am.” I grinned to myself.

“Paired with your signature scorpio color, red?”

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