by Amy Sparling
“Might as well,” I say. “If anything can take my mind off Theo, it’ll be the stench of those dorm rooms.”
“Theo,” Riley says in a sing-song voice while we walk. “That’s a really sexy name.”
“I know, right?” I find myself smiling even though my heart aches. I stare at my stuffed elephant as feelings of longing clutch at my heart. “He was so…regal.”
“Regal?” Riley squishes her nose. “That’s a weird adjective.”
I shrug and kick at a loose piece of gravel on the road. “I’m not sure how else to describe him. He was a gentleman. Caring and sweet, and he talked kind of weird. Like maybe how royalty would talk. He said I reminded him of what he was fighting for.”
Her lips slide to the side of her face. “You said he was here for a business trip?”
I nod. “No idea what kind of business. We never really got into details. I mean, what’s the point? He’s leaving.”
Riley’s arm wraps around my shoulder, which looks kind of funny because she’s shorter than me. “Well, I’m glad he treated you right. He wasn’t some scum asshole like the guys around here.”
“Yep,” I say, my chest heaving with a sigh. I can still feel the soft brush of his lips on mine, the beating of his heart beneath my fingertips.
The smell of his shirt.
I sigh. Just like every good thing in this world, Theo can’t ever be mine.
Chapter 7
Good Grace Shelter is one of the better group homes in the tri-county area. Most of the homes are reserved for what they call behavior kids, the kids who get into so much trouble that the state takes them away from their parents. I’ve been to a few of those homes, and as someone who tries to stay out of the disciplinary office, it was horrible.
But Good Grace isn’t like that. There are some moody teenage assholes living there, but for the most part it’s made up of orphans like Riley, or wards of the state like I was. People whose parents are in jail or are otherwise unfit to take care of their children. Most of the people who work there are nice and at least attempt to care about their job, but the place is still a total black hole that sucks away all the happiness the moment you enter.
The building is old, with wood paneling on the walls and water stained ceiling tiles. The furniture is all from the eighties, orange and yellow couches, dark green carpet. There’s a rec room when you first walk in which has a couple old arcade games, several couches and two televisions. There’s a pathetic shelf of books that are all too old and falling apart. Past the rec room you’ll find the kitchen and eating area, and then a long hallway that stretches to the left and right. The right is the boys’ dorms and the left is for the girls.
Even though I have since been checked out of living here, I still shudder when I come here with Riley. I still have nightmares where I’ll suddenly be ten years old again, and Uncle Will doesn’t exist and I’m back here, sleeping on a smelly mattress in bunkbeds with roommates who are mean to me.
“Let’s make this the last time we have a sleepover here,” I tell Riley.
She brightens. “That’s a good idea. Maybe we can get out of here in a week, when we get our next paychecks.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Two guys argue over a football game on the television, but beside that, the rec room is nearly empty.
“Hmm,” Riley says, seeing the same thing I notice in the corner of the room. You have to walk past the front office to get into the rec room, which Riley and I had avoided because we came in a side entrance in the kitchen that we’re not exactly supposed to use after dark. There’s an old bulletin board near the front door. People always post fliers for things they think will help out the group home kids. Religious papers, job openings, tutoring, lost dog fliers offering a cash reward. There’s never anything good on there, and I know, because we’ve been checking it religiously for full time job offers ever since we graduated.
Right now, a lanky man with white blond hair stands in front of the bulletin board, surveying the papers there. He’s wearing nice jeans and a crisp black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I’m not up to date with everyone who lives here at the home, but it’s obvious by the expensive quality of his clothes that he’s nowhere near being a home kid. He’s also too old for it.
He pulls a couple of thumbtacks from the corner of the board and then flattens out a piece of paper right in the middle, pinning it on top of a few older fliers.
Riley walks right up to him. “Hi there,” she says, wearing her signature customer service smile. “Is that a job offer you’re posting?”
“Actually, yes,” he says, turning toward her with his own charming smile. I wouldn’t exactly call him handsome; more like friendly-looking. He’s a little too thin and his beard is blonde and scraggly, like maybe he wishes he could grow it in thicker but he can’t. He’s probably from the local community college.
“How many openings do you have?” she asks. Her hands slide into the back pockets of her mini skirt and she gazes up at the flier. “My best friend and I need jobs, bad. Well, better jobs.”
“We have a few openings, actually.” He turns to look at me, his eyes roaming down to my skinned knees and back up again. “I’m Kyle,” he says, extending a hand to Riley and then me. I do my best to shake it with authority, so I look like someone worthy of hiring. “I’m a scout for my company. We’re looking for a few women like yourself who would be open to a wonderful opportunity.”
“Awesome,” Riley says. “We only have a high school diploma, but you must know that because you’re posting here.”
He chuckles. “We offer on the job training. Do you both live here?”
“Just me,” Riley says. “But not for long. We’re getting our own place soon.”
Kyle’s gaze turns to me. “You said your name was Cara?” I nod. He presses his lips together, as if he’s summing me up, but I don’t know what for. “Do you have strict parents who would object to you getting a new job?”
What a weird question to ask. “I don’t have any parents at all,” I say, holding my head up confidently. “I used to live here, too, but now I’m on my own.”
This is normally where people give me that fake smile and wish me good luck on my endeavors. Employers don’t want someone like me and Riley because they think we’re weird and uneducated and probably addicted to drugs.
Kyle does the exact opposite. If anything, this news seems to delight him. “We’re conducting interviews tomorrow,” he says. “You should both come on by. We’d be happy to have two girls like you on our team.”
“We will absolutely do that,” Riley says, still beaming as if we’ve already been offered the job.
After he leaves, Riley rips his flier off the bulletin board. Since Riley’s dorm has two other girls in it, we sneak into Margret’s office to have some privacy.
“That guy was kind of secretive about what exactly the job is,” I say, trying to quell some of Riley’s excitement. “What if it’s like, amateur porn or something?”
She rolls her eyes. “Those people are hired on the internet, Cara. See if the flier has any more details.”
I spread out the paper on Margret’s desk, flipping on her desk lamp so we can see it clearly.
NOW HIRING WOMEN AGES 18-25
Looking for an exciting opportunity?
We are currently hiring women aged 18-25 for full time employment beginning immediately. Room and board included. One year contract.
Salary: $100,000
Interviews: Monday, July 24th at Brook Falls Airport 1-4 p.m.
“Holy shit,” Riley whispers. “A hundred thousand dollars?”
“Did you say that loud enough?” I snap, looking around. If one of the night shift workers sees us in here, we’ll get chewed out and Riley will be on lockdown for at least a week.
“I can’t believe this,” she says, a little quieter this time. “This is perfect. Perfect! Exactly what we needed!”
“I don’t know,” I say, exhalin
g. “This sounds a lot like porn.”
“It is not porn, you party pooper! Plus, it comes with room and board, so it’s probably some awesome camp counselor type of gig.” Riley snatches the paper from beneath my hand and holds it to her chest like she’s Charlie and it’s the last golden ticket. “I knew the universe would take care of us.”
Her excitement starts to tub off on me. Assuming the job isn’t for something illegal or gross, could we really get hired for something that pays six figures? Do good things like this really happen to people like us?
A sharp pain radiates through my chest. Despite how much I’ve been telling myself to stop thinking about Theo, there he is, rising up in my thoughts again. I tighten my jaw and tell my brain to dump all thoughts of that boy. He is gone. He is just a memory now. I need to look forward to my future and stop dreaming about perfect guys with charming smiles.
“We’ll go to the interview,” I say, leveling a look at Riley. “But if it’s anything remotely gross, we’re out of there.”
“Agreed,” she says, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “There’s no way I can sleep here when I’m this excited. Let’s go back to your place in a few hours when the coast is clear.”
“Thank God,” I say, sinking into Margret’s office chair. “I was really dreading sleeping over here tonight.”
Riley giggles while she stares at the job flier. “Pretty soon we’ll have a new place to stay. Room and board,” she says excitedly. “With a shit load of money in our bank account.”
Later, when my uncle and his girlfriend have fallen asleep and Riley is sleeping contently on the floor next to my couch bed, I lie awake and stare at the ceiling. That job offer does sound perfect, like the exact answer to all of our problems. But the chances of something like that happening are so slim, I have a hard time believing it. We’ll probably interview and be skimmed over, pushed aside for better candidates to fill the positions. Or worse, what if one of us makes it but not the other? The whole idea of a perfect job just landing in our laps feels totally impossible.
Of course, meeting a guy on a Ferris wheel and then sharing the world’s most toe curling kisses under the moonlight is also an impossible thing.
Maybe there is room for impossibility in my life after all.
Chapter 8
The smell of bacon sizzling on the stove wakes me up the next morning. My pillow is over my face, something that usually happens after an uneasy night’s sleep. Because of the darkness and the unusual smell of breakfast, for a split second, I wonder where the hell I am. Uncle Will and I aren’t exactly the type of people who wake up bright and early and cook breakfast. We’re more of the sleep in and eat cereal type.
But then I hear the high-pitched laugh of his girlfriend, Rachael, and it all makes sense. She’s a pre-school teacher, and she spends all day telling little kids what to do. So, I guess it’s become fused with her personality and now she spends all of her time off work telling my uncle what to do. They met on a dating app a few months ago, and although I’m glad that he’s finally found someone that makes him happy, she’s kind of…blah. I mean, I wouldn’t choose her if I were him, but the heart wants what it wants.
“Brew some coffee, Will.” Her voice is even louder now, and since she knows very well that my room is literally one folding accordion door away from the kitchen, I wonder if she’s trying to wake us up.
I lean over and nudge Riley’s shoulder. “Wake up.”
“I’m awake,” she says, rolling over to face me. “I couldn’t sleep much since I’m too excited for our new jobs.”
I groan and pull the pillow back over my face. This is so Riley. When she gets excited about something, no matter how impossible it is, she really lets herself get carried away with fantasies of the wonderful.
That’s why I’m here to keep her grounded. Sitting up, I brush my hair back from my face. It smells faintly like saltwater, and suddenly it all comes back to me, like a punch to the gut.
Theo.
I breathe in deeply, forcing my shoulders to relax. Forget about him.
The folding door to the kitchen cracks open, sunlight spilling into my darkened room. “Oh good,” Rachael says. “You’re up.” She motions at us with an oven mitt over her hand. “I made enough breakfast for the two of you so get out here before it’s cold.”
“Thank you,” I say quickly, in case she changes her mind. “We’ll be right there.”
Riley turns me with wide eyes. “What is that about?” she whispers.
I shrug. “She probably feels bad for me since I’m all but homeless in a few weeks.”
Riley begins gathering up the blankets she slept on last night. “Yeah, well the joke is on her. She doesn’t make a hundred thousand a year and now we do.”
I want to take her by the shoulders and tell her to stop getting her hopes up for something that most likely won’t work out. But when Riley is in a great mood like this, it’s a little contagious, even if her reasons are all misguided and make believe. So instead of bringing her back to reality—because reality will do its job eventually—I just sigh and get up, stretching my arms over my head. There will be time for disappointment later. Right now it’s time for bacon.
There’s a pile of bacon and pancakes on the small dining table, with four plates all set out for us. There’s even orange juice, which Rachael must have brought with her because we never have stuff like that in our fridge. Riley and I barely make a sound, preferring to eat instead of small talk. Rachael and Uncle Will are going on about remodeling her apartment, so I’m not really paying attention until I hear my name.
“Yes?” I say, looking up from my plate.
Rachael smiles sweetly, but it’s obvious she’s faking her admiration. “You’ll help with a garage sale, right? Maybe Riley could help too?”
“Uh, sure,” I say, stabbing another bite of pancake. “Are you having a garage sale?”
Uncle Will clears his throat. “I am, actually.” He gazes around at this small house filled with old, out of date furniture. “We need to get all of this stuff gone, and I’ll split the money with you, like I promised.”
“Oh. Right.” Thoughts of Theo had taken up space in my mind while I ate, and although it’s so stupid of me to let my mind run with fantasies, it’s easier than remembering that I’m about to be homeless and Riley and I barely have enough money for rent.
“Thank you for that,” I say, forcing a smile. “But I was actually thinking of something that might help us more than money.”
Uncle Will lifts an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“Well, Riley and I have enough money for the deposit and first month’s rent on an apartment, but we don’t have money for furniture yet. Or anything that goes in an apartment, really. I was thinking maybe you could let me have some things, like my couch bed and the silverware and stuff like that?”
He nods. “That’s a great idea. You pick out what you want and we’ll sell the rest.”
My heart leaps. Getting free stuff for our place will be a huge help. But as I look around, I see Rachael and Riley staring at me like I’m either an idiot or a nuisance, or something otherwise not worth dealing with.
“What?” I say to Riley. But Rachael speaks first.
“The garage sale is next week, Cara. Friday and Saturday and maybe Sunday if we don’t get everything sold. You’ll need to move into your apartment by then because we can’t hold a bunch of stuff for you.”
“Rachael,” Uncle Will says, but she cuts him off with a sharp look.
“There’s still time to do a short sale on the house,” she snaps. “I’m trying to salvage your credit, honey. We can’t let her stay in the house any longer just out of charity. She’s an adult now, she’ll figure it out.”
“Of course,” I say, feeling like someone’s just let all the air out of me. “I’ll call the apartments today, and we’ll get moved in.” It’s a lie. We don’t have enough money today. Maybe I can beg and plead and offer my first born child and maybe they�
�ll take pity on us and let us start moving in tomorrow. It can work. I know it can.
“It won’t be a problem,” Riley says cheerfully. “What Cara hasn’t told you is that we don’t need any of that stuff because we’re getting new jobs today.”
“That sounds good,” uncle Will says. “Where’s it at? Is it full time?”
“Yes,” Riley says. I give her a look but she ignores it. “The pay is really good and it includes room and board so, we’re all set.”
“Well that sounds a hell of a lot better than moving my crappy old stuff into an apartment,” Uncle Will says with a laugh.
I sigh, rubbing my forehead. “Don’t listen to Riley. We don’t have the jobs yet and who knows if we’ll actually get it.” My uncle’s shoulders fall and for some reason I feel like the bad guy here, when Riley is the one who falsely got his hopes up. “We’re interviewing for the job on Monday.”
“We’re going to get it,” Riley says with as much confidence as ever. “We talked to the talent scout already and he totally thinks we’re a great fit. It’s all but a done deal.”
“But if it doesn’t work out,” I say through clenched teeth, “We’ll need some of your stuff to take to our apartment.”
Riley rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. But it’ll work out. I have a good feeling about this.”
Rachael laces her fingers together under her chin. “Riley, please do all the talking when you get there, otherwise Cara’s bad attitude will ruin both your chances of getting hired.”
They all laugh, and I stab my fork into my food, choosing to ignore them. Unlike Riley, we can’t all live in a fantasy world where jobs are given out just because you want it badly enough. Someone has to stay grounded to earth long enough to get us a place to live. Reality is painful enough without wasting time dreaming for something you’ll never get.
Chapter 9
