The eyes of the boy always haunted me, and I thought he’d be sad if he ever came back here and not see his mom’s name on it.
“At least she lives on here,” he says before coming closer to me, and I wince when a hard gust of wind sends me back a few steps. If it weren’t for his hand gripping my elbow, I’d have probably fallen on my behind. “And you’re still here.”
I grin at him, adjusting my hat better on my head, and sigh when the cold doesn’t seep into my ears anymore. “I’m coming back from school.”
His brow rises. “At this hour?”
“Extra class to finish the test.” I decide not to bother him with my life, because he doesn’t seem interested, and besides, it’s so awkward to talk to him right now.
He is handsome, and my cheeks heat up, thinking that none of the boys in school can hold a candle to him. “What are you doing here?” No way he lives in this neighborhood, and glancing at the road, I see James waiting for him by the car.
“My mom died two years ago.” I blink, as sadness washes over me, along with pain for him. “I came here to say goodbye to her.”
“Goodbye?” This must be one of the strangest conversations I’ve ever had, but I soak it all up, not caring about anything.
The boy and our earlier encounter still stay one of the best adventures for me, and he’s the only one who has showed me kindness, so I don’t even mind missing dinner to hear his thoughts.
“I’m moving to study abroad till I finish school.” My brows furrow, and he must have noticed that, because he taps his finger on the bridge of my nose. “Dad can’t stand me hating his wife and new kids.”
“So, he sends you away?” I can’t imagine how that must hurt him; whenever parents from various foster homes turned their back on me, I burst into tears, and it hurt me so much I wasn’t even hungry.
But his own daddy doesn’t want him? How is that possible?
“Better me than her, I guess. Or should I say them?” He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter.” He glances one last time at the name on the concrete and walks off to his driver while snowflakes start to fall on us rapidly, and I giggle, opening my arms.
“Oh my God, it’s snowing!” I exclaim, momentarily forgetting about the boy while I jump up high and spin around, trying to catch all the snowflakes. “Snowing!” It almost never snows before Christmas, and I’m ready to shout from the rooftops my joy for it.
I open my mouth to catch some of them on my tongue and only then see how the boy still drills his stare into me, his green eyes studying me for so long I blush a little bit but hope he doesn’t see it, because how lame is that?
“You enjoy the simplest things,” he whispers before crooking his finger at me. Frowning, I step closer and then blink in surprise when he reaches for my backpack, unzips it, and takes out a notebook and pen. “I’m probably going to regret it, but here is my address there. Write to me if you want.”
As in become pen pals?
My best friend, Paloma, has one back in Paris. She met him when she went on a vacation with her parents, and she says they’ve exchanged letters ever since.
How cool is that?
He drops it all back inside and is ready to bolt when I shout, “Wait.” He stops, glancing over his shoulder, and I quickly tear away part of the piece of paper, scribble my address on it, but instead of my real name, I put another one.
I give it to him, and he takes it, folding it and putting it inside his coat pocket. “This is weird as hell” is all he comments on it. “But since you keep my mother’s name, I owe you one.” I don’t understand what he means by that, but I don’t have the chance to ask as he almost runs to the car then hops inside with one last glance my way.
And after that, he drives off as the snow continues to fall on me while I wonder what just happened.
All the way home, I think about this encounter and how he gave me his address at the new place.
Quickly getting home, I wash my hands and eat my dinner before cleaning the kitchen and only then check out what he wrote for me.
Mainly just his name, because I’m curious what it is.
Zach.
I smile when I press the notebook to my chest and sigh, promising myself to guard this secret and not let anyone take advantage of it.
My very first pen pal.
And who knows?
Maybe in time, Zach will become one of my best friends, and we’ll meet again.
Phoenix
“Hey, pretty lady!” a man shouts, slurring his words as he leans on the bar and wiggles the empty glass in his hand. “Another one for me and my buddies!” His cheerful friends are behind him, sitting at a round table in the right corner.
“Sure thing,” I reply and grab the bottle of tequila, placing five small glasses on a tray, and quickly fill them before putting a piece of lime on the rims along with salt. “Here you go.” I look around the place but don’t find Tracy, the waitress, to help him out. I’m about to pick it up myself—the last thing I need on the first day of my new job is a customer who spills his drink—when he swats my hands away, ready to take it himself.
Right in this moment, his friend from behind him jumps up and snatches it away, addressing the drunk guy. “I’ll get it or you’ll drop it.”
The guy grins at him and then at me before fishing for his wallet and placing a hundred-dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change.” With this, he walks off to the loud chants of the college kids who are about to get wasted. I’m sure it won’t be the last time they order something either.
Still, the tip is nice, and if I have to be called a pretty lady for that… so be it. Under the current circumstances, I can’t be picky.
I wipe the counter with the towel, wondering how many more customers we’ll have tonight. Judging by the early hour, only ten in the evening, and how packed this place already is, I expect a lot of customers.
The more the better; maybe then I can buy some cheap clothes and not use the ones Sara wore. I love her to pieces, but her tight black jeans along with the tank tops that barely hold my breasts from spilling out and the leather jacket that hangs inside the staff room aren’t really doing it for me.
After Rafe brought me home, I slept for ten hours straight and then woke up late. I found some food in the fridge with my name on it and a note from Rafe to eat whatever I wanted but to not forget about the job. He left the address and number with directions, claiming he’d be back in a few days.
Thankfully, my old smartphone still works, so once I get new sim card, I can at least have access to the internet and other information.
I cleaned the house, took a long shower, enjoying the hot water for the first time in a while without worrying someone might stare or attack me at any moment.
I also took time studying my reflection in the mirror, noticing the angry scars and puckered skin. The ones on my face faded away within years, I have the surgeon to thank for that. My brown hair has seen better days with split ends and the color washed out; not to mention my body is skinnier.
Deciding to ignore my looks, because who gives a flying fuck, I went back to bed and woke up in time to come here. As it turned out, the bar was only a twenty-minute walk away from the apartment building.
Herb greeted me easily without asking any questions. He only wanted to see my bartending skills, and satisfied with them, he told me to leave my things in the staff room, introduced me to the crew, and asked me how many days I wanted to bartend.