I was the oldest child out of three. I was always the most responsible and mature one over my sister and brother. The always seemed to be getting into trouble, but I was the one who stayed home instead of going out with friends, choosing to study or read instead. The only extracurricular activity I participated in was ballet. I’ve always enjoyed dancing, kept up with it over the years, and even participated in a few dance competitions.
But like everything else in my life, I was just okay, only average.
So when I decided to go away to college, hours away from home, instead of sticking close by at the community college, I shocked the shit out of everyone that knew me. I didn’t have a scholarship because, yeah I got decent grades, but nothing spectacular—I just felt like I needed something different, to step away from the realm of what was expected from Monroe Hartley. I started working as soon as it was legal, so I had quite a bit put away in my savings, along with a decent car that I purchased on my own. I basically pointed at the map and my finger landed on Georgia. I was accepted soon after applying to the University of Georgia, which led me here to Athens. My parents couldn’t believe it, my mom bawled for days, and I almost gave in. Almost. But one of my strongest traits was that I was extremely stubborn. Once I had my mind set on something, it was extremely hard to change it.
My parents offered what little money they had put aside for my education, but it barely covered my gas out of Michigan. They didn’t have much money and I was okay with that. I got that they did their best for us. My siblings on the other hand, well, they weren’t as understanding. Just thinking about Holland and Jackson annoyed me. Apparently, I had inherited all of the responsibility and maturity in our family because neither one of them had any. They were still milking our parents for everything that they possibly could, not blinking an eyelash over the fact that our mom and dad could barely afford their own bills.
I shook my head as I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex. My dark mood was trying to stick around as long as possible, but it was pretty hard to let it once I saw my best friend. She popped out of her car, tapping on my window with one of her perfectly manicured, red fingernails, and gave me a sweet smile, her bright white teeth practically blinding me.
“What are you doing here, Amelia?”
“Monroe,” she scoffed, looping her arm through mine. “You’re having a crisis. Whenever there’s a crisis, a girl needs her best friend.” She flicked back a piece of her long, golden blonde hair, giving me one of those pageant smiles she was famous for. I was pretty sure ninety-percent of the student population knew Amelia Miller, and somehow, I ended up as her best friend. I still had no idea how. She was the quintessential southern belle; her makeup and clothes were always perfect, her manners were some of the best I had ever witnessed in my life, and she was friendly to everyone. The only time she tended to let her hair down just a little bit was when we were alone, out of the public eye. She wasn’t fake; she just didn’t know how to let go sometimes. I guess I couldn’t blame her. It had been drilled into her head to always be perfect, probably straight out of the womb.
“I told you on the phone that you didn’t need to come over.” I pushed open the door to my apartment and Amelia followed me in, immediately heading toward the kitchen like she did every time she came over, even though she knew there was hardly ever anything in there. She rolled her eyes when she opened the cupboard next to the fridge and at least five boxes of Milk Duds tumbled to the floor. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“How is it that you can’t even afford to buy yourself a jar of spaghetti sauce, but yet you seem to have an endless supply of those?” She pointed to the yellow boxes that I quickly scooped up and hugged tightly to my body. Milk Duds were my guilty pleasure, the one thing that I turned to when I was having a bad day. I had a feeling they were going to my best friend for a while until I figured things out.
Amelia shrugged her shoulders and walked into the living room, plopping down as she kicked her heels off. “So, we need to come up with a plan. I don’t know why you just won’t move into the dorms with me. You know my roommate is never there. No one would ever know. Imagine the money you could save.”
“Nope.” I shook my head and collapsed next to her. “That’s not happening. I could get kicked out of school if they found out.”
“Oh please, Roe. I highly doubt that. Why do you have to be so stubborn about things? How about I give you a loan? Daddy owes me some back allowance, I can give it to you and you can pay me back whenever you get back on your feet.”
“Amelia.” I sighed loudly and she rattled on about all of the ideas she had come up with in the short amount of time since finding out I no longer had a job. Amelia was spoiled, to say the least, and she knew it, but she really didn’t let it get to her head, believe it or not. She was always trying to give her money away to friends or charities, only occasionally splurging on a shopping spree or two, here and there.
“Okay, well I knew that you wouldn’t like any of my ideas, so here.” She pushed a newspaper into my hands, bringing me back to reality.
“I knew you were my best friend for a reason.”
“Yes, ma’am. You got that right.” She giggled, pointing to where she had circled some letters with a little heart. “I even found one for you. I think it’s exactly what you’re looking for.”
I quickly read the ad, rolling my eyes at Amelia who was clutching her stomach, her whole body shaking from the laughter she tried to contain.
Looking for girls who want to make big $$$
No experience required
Start right away!
“You’re so funny. Maybe you should apply for a job there.”
“It’s for a strip club, isn’t it?” She covered her mouth with her hand, whispering the question quietly as if someone were going to hear her utter the words strip club. Her mama might just faint if she ever found out that such vulgar language even existed in Amelia’s vocabulary.
“I’m assuming so. Do you want to go find out?” I smiled wryly at her and her whole body shivered at just the thought.
“Monroe Hartley that is disgusting,” she emphasized, her button nose scrunching up slightly. “I would never step foot in a place like that. Could you imagine?” She shivered again. “Yuck. Now you on the other hand….” She trailed off and I pushed my eyebrows together.
“Are you trying to call me a whore or something?”
“Really, Monroe? I think I know that you’re not a…you’re not that way. I just figured with that booty pop you love to work, you could probably make some really good money.”
“That booty pop only comes out when I’m drunk, which is rare, so I think I’m good. But thanks for the suggestion.”
Amelia stayed for a little while longer, helping me read-through the classifieds, but really, there didn’t seem to be anything worthwhile. I was starting to panic a little, but kept a smile plastered on my face, not wanting Amelia to see that I was worried. I didn’t need her or anyone else’s help. I would figure something out. There was no way in hell I would let myself fail and have to run back to Michigan with my tail between my legs. Nope. Not happening. This was just a tiny bump in the road that I would cruise right on over.
And there was no way in hell I needed to go work as a stripper, no matter how many times Amelia suggested it.
Twisted Bliss Page 25
