Once I’m in my driveway, I check my phone again and see I have a text from him. It’s the first one I’ve ever received, and my tummy flutters a little.
“Why?” he asks. “It’s exactly what you asked for. Less than an hour of work, and you’ll make $600. What’s the issue?”
There are too many issues! I don’t even know where to begin.
I type back, “I was JOKING about stripping. I might be in dire straits, but sex work wasn’t in my five year plan.”
“Guess you don’t need the money that badly then,” he shoots back.
Yes, I do.
My energy dips a little when I realize it. It’s depraved asking me to send him a picture like that for a lot of reasons, but the reality is, I do need money, and as shady as his terms are, he is offering some.
As reluctant as I am to do what he asked, I know I shouldn’t turn down a chance to make an extra $600. It wouldn’t buy me a whole month with all our expenses, but it would still be a relief to have an unexpected infusion of cash. And while I was joking about stripping, I can’t say I’d never consider it. There are more important things than my modesty, and Mom’s cancer treatment is definitely one of them. Keeping a roof over our heads is another. I know how she would feel if we lost the house, and as bad as her health is, she can’t take stress like that.
I guess at least if I sent him a picture, he would be the only one seeing it.
Rather than acknowledge why this makes a bit of sense, I text back, “What would your girlfriend think about all this?”
His response is immediate. “I doubt she’d be as into it as I am, but they’re not for her.”
I roll my eyes. “You know that is not what I meant.”
“Guys watch porn all the time. How is this any different?”
“It’s totally different,” I type back, wide-eyed. “You KNOW me. You don’t know Scarlet O’ Big Boobs.”
“Brb, saving your number in my phone as Scarlet O’ Big Boobs.”
“Don’t you dare,” I send back, unable to bite back a horrified laugh.
“Too late.” He sends back a screenshot to prove he did it.
“Why are you the worst?” I ask him.
“What are you talking about? I’m your fairy godmother. Now, get your little ass inside the house and take a picture if you want the rest of your money.”
“I am not sending you a picture of me… like that.”
“In panties?” he questions. “What do you have against panties? I guess you can leave them off if you really want to…”
The. Worst.
I shake my head, typing back, “It’s not happening.”
“I disagree,” he texts back. “I don’t have an exact ratio of how often I get what I want, but I should tell you, it happens more often than it doesn’t.”
I’m tempted to sit here and keep talking to him, but I’m sitting in the driveway with the car off, and it’s starting to get hot.
I gather my things, shoving the gift bag and its contents into my backpack so Mom doesn’t see them when I go inside. My phone vibrates just as I get through the door. It’s another message from Dare.
“What are we having for dinner tonight?”
“My mom and I are having lasagna,” I type back. “I have no idea what you’re having.”
He texts back, “I know what I want for dessert…”
I don’t know if he means it as an innuendo, but that’s how I take it.
It feels like a knot sinks from my chest cavity into my upper abdomen. Ignoring it, I type back, “I recommend some nice cold ice cream.”
“Lol, you would,” he answers.
“I have to go,” I tell him. “I just got home and I need to take a shower before I start dinner.”
“Sounds like the perfect opportunity for a photo op.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“I’ve been holding my breath since we met, mermaid.”
Ugh, he’s so full of shit, and yet my stupid heart pitter patters like it believes him.
Doesn’t matter, I tell myself.
Do the right thing.
Put the phone away and stop thinking about him.
I’m on Mom’s time now, anyway.
“Hey sweetie,” she calls out, looking back at me as if she senses I need a reminder.
I flash a weak smile back. “Hey.”
“How was school?”
“Good.” I start to drop my bags, but reconsider given what’s inside. “I’m just going to drop this stuff off in my room and take a shower, then I’ll come out and start dinner, okay?”
“Okay, honey.”
I need to bring up that doctor Dare told me about, but maybe I should wait until I hear back from him. I know Mom is tired of fighting, I know she thinks she has tried everything at this point and it’s all failed, but what if…?
Remembering what Dare’s doing for me just puts him in my head again, and I had only cleared him out for a couple of seconds.