Page 9 of Devil's Bargain

TWO

I return home to find my mom passed out on the couch again. The coffee table is lined with empty wine bottles, and the room reeks of vomit.

I kick my shoes off and heave a deep sigh as I walk over and pull the blanket over her sleeping form. She doesn’t stir.

In the kitchen, I place my bag on the table and root through my pockets for the money Scott gave me.

As I count the bills, I finally let the tears fall that I’ve held back all day. It’s enough money to pay for this month’s rent and some food, but not enough to afford the electricity or hot water.

Doesn’t matter! It’s one weight off my shoulders.

I wipe my cheeks before walking over to the sink and pouring myself a glass of water. It has stopped raining outside. The sun peeking out through the clouds is a stark contrast to the weather this morning.

My mom doesn’t rouse from her alcohol-induced sleep as I do the dishes and tidy up the countertops.

Nothing short of an earthquake could wake her up when she’s like this. Even then, she’d probably sleep through it.

My phone pings on the table. I put the last plate away in the overhead cupboard and wipe my hands on the dirty hand towel, then pick up the phone and swipe the screen.

Nina: We’re at Ben’s. Get yourself here!

Smiling, I type out a response.

April: I’m setting off now.

I don’t get far. My prehistoric car stalls and dies halfway there.

I slam the wheel and let out a frustrated scream as the car comes to a sputtering stop by the roadside.

When billowing steam starts rising from the hood, I stare in disbelief and press my head against the steering wheel. “Why is everything going wrong?” My life sucks. It fucking sucks!

There’s a knock on the window, causing me to nearly die of a heart attack. I press a palm to my chest and lift my head.

Rick motions for me to lower the window.

I reach for the handle on the side of the door and roll the glass pane down. It takes forever. Lesson learned—next time, I’ll just open the fucking door.

Behind us, Rick’s Porsche gleams in the sunshine. I bet his car has one of those fancy buttons that you press to slide it down, unlike this car with its old-fashioned lever.

He leans down and rests his forearm on the roof. “I was driving behind you when your car broke down. Do you want me to take a look?”

I must appear skeptical because he laughs, pushing off the car. “Jocks are good for more things than throwing balls, you know?”

I eye his letterman jacket, then shrug. What other choice do I have? “Sure, have at it. She’s older than the dinosaurs, so I doubt you’ll have much luck.”

He runs his hand through his dark hair and chuckles as he walks over to the hood. He indicates for me to open it.

Right. Yeah. Where is the fucking lever? I bend down and look for it everywhere. I even manage to bump my head before finding it hidden underneath my seat. Who the hell thought to put it there?

When I look back up, Rick is pocketing his phone. His letterman jacket is nowhere in sight, and his straining arm muscles are on full display.

I swallow thickly.

He disappears from view as he lifts the hood up.

“Get a grip of yourself, April!” I whisper, unstrapping my seatbelt.

I exit the car and join him outside.

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