The kitchen was pitch dark and Wes navigated it by memory, pulled the fridge open, and the cold light fell on empty shelves, a jar of mustard, and a bag of lettuce that had given up on life.
His stomach growled loud enough to echo.
“Tch. Nothing,” said Wes.
“Those rich places give you a tiny slice of food for a fortune. I’m still starving.”
He was reaching for the mustard when Paige appeared in the doorway, dressed now in an oversized hoodie with her face still red and her hair still damp from scrubbing off the whole night.
“Wes, we need to talk,” said Paige.
“Sure. But I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner first,” said Wes.
She blinked at him, because she knew he worked at the 7-Eleven, knew every cent went to tuition, knew he hadn’t had a spare dollar since the day Walt started charging him rent for a room in his own dead parents’ memory.
“I’m not paying,” said Paige.
“I know. My treat. How about a cheeseburger?” said Wes.
The mention of food seemed to kill the embarrassment right out of her.
“Fine. Let’s go. Hurry up,” said Paige, and she pushed him toward the door like he was furniture, which, given the last hour, almost made him laugh out loud.
Big Patty’s was three blocks over and still lit up past midnight, all grease and neon and sticky floors, and they ordered two massive burgers and sat in a corner booth where the window light didn’t reach.
She took a huge bite, then pointed a fry at him.
“We haven’t talked about earlier,” said Paige.
“Nothing to talk about. I didn’t knock. I didn’t see anything. I promise,” said Wes.
She narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t lie to me.”
Wes leaned across the table, and a surge of confidence moved through him that he didn’t recognize, some new animal that had moved into his chest sometime between room 714 and that hallway, and it was enjoying itself.
“If you want, I can take responsibility,” said Wes.
He leaned in close to her ear, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“I could take the place of that toy and fuck you myself.”
He nipped her earlobe.
Just a quick, sharp bite.
She bolted out of her seat so hard the table shook.
Her face went purple.
She didn’t say a word, just turned and marched toward the bathroom with her arms locked over her chest, and Wes sat back and laughed.
“What is this? The money? Or just losing my virginity?” he said to the empty booth.
He wasn’t an ugly guy.
Tall, lean, a good face.
He’d had chances before, real ones, but the money complex always stopped him at the door.
In high school, a girl had invited him to a motel, and he had stood at the counter with fourteen dollars in his pocket while the room cost sixty, and she had laughed in his face, loud, in the lobby, with people watching, and told the whole school by Monday morning.
He’d been the broke kid ever since.
The guy who flinched at dinner bills. Find the original chapter at g.com.
The guy who walked two hours in the rain once because a bus fare felt like robbery.
But now he felt the weight of the Ledger in his pocket, four figures sitting quiet in a bank app, and the broke kid didn’t live here anymore.
He kept eating.
BZZT!
He pulled out the phone.
[Reservation for tomorrow at 20:00. Reply: 1. Accept 2. Decline 3. Request Photo?]
Below it: [Note: Option 3 reduces commission by 50%.]
Wes stared at the options, at a company that charged him half his money just to see a face before he walked into a room with it.
“Picky eaters cost extra, huh,” said Wes.
“Money is what matters. Not the face.”
He hit ‘1’.
[Appointment confirmed: Tomorrow at 20:00. Arrive thirty minutes early. Be professional.]
It sounded like a corporate email.
Cold.
Somewhere out there a woman had flipped through men like a menu, selected him the way you select a dishwasher, and the machine had already set his alarm.
Paige came back from the bathroom and slid into the booth looking like she wanted to scream.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you crazy?” said Paige.
Wes looked up from his fries.
He looked completely calm.
“Not at all. I’m serious. It hurts to see you so… needy. If I can help, I will,” said Wes.
His gaze was steady, and for a second she didn’t see her annoying cousin, the parasite Walt screamed about at the dinner table.
She saw a man who meant it, offering with his whole chest, and the offer sat there real and horrible and tempting until the shame hit her again like a wall.
“Go to hell!” said Paige.
She grabbed her burger and stormed out, and the little bell over the door rattled behind her.
Wes didn’t follow.
He just took another bite and checked his bank app.
“Trouble with the girlfriend?” said a voice.
A girl was standing by the booth with a playful smirk, watching the drama, ponytail over one shoulder and a jacket that had seen better years.
“Something like that,” said Wes.
He didn’t feel the usual panic.
He didn’t feel like a loser.
He felt like the man Reggie wanted him to be.
“Well, she’s missing out. Mind if I take the seat?” said the girl.
Wes gestured to the empty booth.
He felt the phone buzz again.
Another notification.
[Reservation for the day after tomorrow at 08:00.]
Same rules.
Same warnings.
He didn’t even read the fine print this time.
He just tapped ‘1’.
That made two appointments in the bag, and if the pay stayed the same, he was looking at five grand in just a few days.
“Holy shit. I’m making a killing,” Wes muttered to himself.
“Something good happen?” said the girl.
She sat down across from him, leaning her chin on her hand.
“Yeah. Things are just looking up, little by little,” said Wes.
He slid the phone back into his pocket.
“And what about you? What are you doing out this late?”
“Just grabbing dinner. I’ve got a Finance midterm to study for tomorrow at the university. What about you?” said the girl.
The university.
Wes’s heart skipped a beat for a completely different reason this time.
Shit.
I almost forgot.
I have a midterm tomorrow too, he thought.
“You forgot about your exam, didn’t you?” said the girl.
She let out a soft laugh at the look on his face.
“Crap… yeah. A little bit,” said Wes.
She looked at him, her eyes tracing the lines of his expensive suit, then back up to his face, and the smirk on her lips changed shape.
“What if we go back to my apartment and study together?” said the girl.
Wes looked at her for a second.
He wasn’t the naive kid he’d been a day ago.
He knew exactly what she was actually asking for, and it wasn’t help with her notes.
“Sure. Let’s go,” said Wes.
He stood up and followed her out, a small smirk playing on his lips.
She’s basically asking me to fuck her, Wes thought.
Why would I pass that up?