Page 11 of Give Me Perfect Love

“I’m eighteen.”

Her brows lift.

Is she surprised?

Do I look older?

I feel older.

Mentally, you are.

“So am I,” she says. Her auburn eyes go back to the money. “I haven’t been working here long. My dad got me the job. He knows the manager.”

I’m not sure why she feels the need to tell me this. Maybe she can sense what I’m feeling.

Small and out of place.

Out of my league with all of this.

“I’m telling you this because I can see the way you’re looking at me. Like I’ve got everything figured out. I don’t. I don’t believe anyone truly does.”

I’m shocked at her honesty. I look over her face for a moment longer than I probably should, but I find it necessary.

I see what I didn’t before in her eyes.

She’s an old soul. Older than her time, just like me.

I like her and I feel bad for judging her when I know nothing about her either.

She looks past me at the door before standing. I watch her walk to it and close it behind her. She makes her way back around in heels and a pencil skirt. “I’m not supposed to do this, but I hate this job anyway.” She sits back down and gives me a smile.

I don’t return it. Too worried about how this is going to go. I need this place. This is the beginning of everything for me.

“I’ll figure out something with the paperwork.”

My eyes grow wide in utter shock.

Why would she do this for me? Risk her job? I don’t understand it.

“You have to promise me you aren’t going to screw me over.”

“I promise,” I say to her. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Okay,” she says, nodding her head.

“Okay?” I question, making sure I heard her correctly.

“Yeah. Now let’s count out all this damn money you’ve got. I swear I thought stripper first.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, I laugh. The sound is strange coming from my throat. Like rough air pushing up from my lungs. It lightens my chest, like it’s been sitting there all this time waiting to release.

I should laugh more often

And right now, I feel like I will.

__________

Lucy is patting her neck with a towel when I walk out. Squinting my eyes up at the beaming sun and its pressing heat, I smile. It’s hot, I have no idea what I’m doing, but I now have my own place.

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