Page 8 of No Rules

“Wow, your bartender was right, a real jerk,” I whisper almost to myself as I made my way to the door.

“What did you just say?” his voice rises behind my back.

I turn back to him, furious. “So what, because I don’t show my ass or my tits, I look like a kid? Believe me, I’ve seen enough in my ‘little’ life to be considered more than that.”

My words hit the nail on the head. At first, he doesn’t answer me. But after a few seconds, a sincere smile lights up his face and deepens his wrinkles. “And what did you experience?”

Now it’s my turn to be silent. I could say so many things to him, but I remain silent, my jaw clenched.

“Are you in college?” he continues.

I nod my head.

“Junior psych major.”

The man nods in turn, seeming to think about his next words. “I need a waitress a few nights a week, depending on the availability of the other waiters. One of my employees is on maternity leave. Do you feel up to it?”

My lips curl gently at the chance that smiles at me. “Yes, I am.”

***

Half an hour later, I sit behind the wheel of my Chevrolet, delighted. Shit, I got the job! But my smile fades when I see my aunt’s name on my phone.

“Hello?” I begin, putting the car in gear to leave the parking lot full of cars.

“Iris! I’ve been trying to reach you for hours,” exclaims Aunt Emma, hysterically.

“Has something happened to Agnes?” I worry instantly, as I do every time the fear of losing my little sister overwhelms me.

I hear a sigh of annoyance through the phone. “Agnes is doing VERY well, I assure you. A little too well, in fact! The deal was clear between us, Iris! I accepted custody of Agnes but she had to behave herself. I am a very busy person. I didn’t plan to have to chaperone her all the time,” she finishes in a pinched voice.

Soon it will all be over. I’ll have custody of her. I’ll have the resources and everything I need to have her here. I have to.

“What happened?” I finally asked.

“Your sister is 9 years old, Iris. I understand that she is still saddened by the death of your parents, but she must learn to behave!”

“Sad?” I retort with a mirthless laugh. “Damn it, Emma, her parents died IN FRONT of her! She needs time!”

“And I need mine! I had some important clients at home today, and I had to pick her up from class because she got into a fight with a classmate.”

As a light rain starts to hit my windshield, I hold back a curse. My headlights light up the small road with difficulty. Damn it, I should have taken the back road to campus! Damn GPS that advised me to take this one to save a few minutes!

I slow down a bit and ask my aunt, “Why did she fight?”

“Do I look like I know? I’ll put her on, sort it out.”

I hear her call my sister, and a few minutes later her little voice rings in my ear.

“Hi, Iris.”

The sorrow in her tone breaks my heart, but I try to ignore it.

“What happened, sweetie?”

Agnes doesn’t answer me.

“Agnes, why did you fight?”

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