Me: You don’t have to be a dick. It was just a question.
Kyle: Sure.
Kyle: To answer your ‘question’, yes, I’m skipping class.
Kyle: After my girlfriend was a bitch to me, I went out with some friends and had too much to drink.
Kyle: The last thing I want to do is sit in a classroom with her and the guy she probably fucked.
My face flames in anger, but he’s not done.
Kyle: So, yes, I’m skipping class. And after my laundry is done, I’m going out with some friends again.
Kyle: You know… people who KNOW how to have fun.
Kyle: And just so we’re clear, everyone thinks you want to fuck the professor. Good job with letting everyone know what a little slut you are.
I grit my teeth, which only causes pain in my face. What an asshole!
Me: You know what? You can go fuck yourself.
Me: We’re done.
Kyle: Good.
Kyle: And guess what?
Kyle: I’ve been fucking other people all along, so no loss to me.
Kyle: Lose my number, sweetie.
I’m close to raging right here in the middle of the street. I can handle being called a lot of things, but sweetie? Hell no. Maybe it’s because Chip’s mom used to call me that, and not sweetly. When someone calls me that, I know what they mean. It’s the southern equivalent ofbless your heart. There’s nothingniceabout it.
I block Kyle’s number in my contacts and then block him on social media. I don’t have time to deal with him or his shit. I mean, he’s basically doing me a favor. It’s not like our relationship was going anywhere. I’m still irritated as I get on a bus headed toward the campus. Thankfully, no one looks my way. Sometimes, being able to blend in is a blessing.
Once I’m off the bus, I make my way across the campus. I’m deep in thought when I enter the building and head to the lecture hall. Should I take the kids and stay with Mrs. McCarthy tonight? Will my father even think of looking there for us? She has kids of her own, and I don’t want to put her or them in danger. Okay, so I can’t go there. I wonder if I can find a cheap motel room for a few nights. Pulling out my phone, I log into my bank account.
Well, that’s out of the question, too. I don’t have enough money for that, and I don’t want to dig into my emergency stash of money unless I have to. Crap. Maybe it’s time to swallow my pride and look into a shelter. The thing that worries me is that I don’t have legal guardianship over Chip and Belle. If I take them to a shelter, will someone try to take them from me? My dad hasn’t hurt them yet, so it will be my word against his.
Each potential solution only brings more heartache for me. I either can’t afford it or there’s a chance that I’ll lose my siblings. There’s a part of me that wonders if they wouldn’t be better off without me. They might get placed somewhere together with a family who will love them and be able to take care of them. But the news is riddled with stories of kids who are abused in the system. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to them.
Looking at my phone, I type in the club's name by my house. Neverland. Maybe they’re hiring. If they pay enough, it might be something worth looking into. It’s a brothel, but surely there are jobs there that don’t require sleeping with someone. Right?
Suddenly, a door opens right in front of me, and I walk into it before I can stop myself. I fall right on my butt, groaning.
“Dove? Are you okay?”
Groaning, I look up, finding Henri looking down at me with horror etched on his face. The expression worsens when he gets a good look at me.
“What happened to you?”
I’m still a bit dazed. “How did I get on the ground?”
His eyebrows lift. “The bigger question is, what in the fuck happened to your face?”
My cheeks feel like they’re on fire as I try to sit. He exhales, holding out his hand. My pride is already bruised as much as my face, so I shake my head and force myself to my feet.
“Dove, I’m only going to ask this once more. What happened?”