One Broke Girl (3 page)

Dad turned on the kitchen sink faucet, and I heard the water give a massive gurgle, bigger than it had so far. I darted back in there in time to see him shut it off and shake his head.

“That doesn’t sound good,” I said lightly. That stupid thing was going to break any time now, and God help us when it did. Our landlord was a mouth-breather who could barely remember to wear pants, much less fix anything. I knew nothing about plumbing except that plumbers could be expensive. But maybe luck would be on our side and it would turn out to be an easy fix.

We sat down at our rickety round kitchen table and enjoyed our cheese and crackers in silence, both lost in our own thoughts.

I was pretty sure mashed potatoes had been invented by the devil.

Only twenty minutes into our lunch shift and I’d scooped more potatoes than I’d ever seen in my life. Scoop, plop. Scoop, plop. Right onto the plates of sour-faced elementary school kids who didn’t seem to get why the skins had been left in.

Without fail, every single one of them had stopped to ask me about it. It could have been a drinking game.

If anyone working here had bothered asking me beforehand, I’d have told them that wasn’t going to fly with this picky crowd. Granted, I’d only just been allowed to start serving food this week, but it was super apparent which lunches got the most excitement—pizza, burritos and French fries. You know, nothing crazy.

However, Mrs. Portwell didn’t seem to want my opinion on anything other than how fast I could scoop food and scrub countertops. Apparently she fancied herself a gourmet chef and was gonna make these kids appreciate her culinary arts whether they liked it or not. Since she authorized my paychecks, I didn’t bother to argue.

A freckle-faced redheaded girl shot me a skeptical look as she held her tray toward me. “Those don’t look right. They’re lumpy with dark brown spots.”

I shrugged and thunked the potatoes on her plate. “It’s homestyle.” Exact same thing I’d told the boy in front of her.

She gave a world-weary sigh and moved down the line, and I almost chuckled at how bitter and cynical she seemed, even at such a young age. Had I ever been that much of a jerk to my elders? Hell, it would have killed these kids to mutter a thank-you for the service.

Funny how just a couple of weeks into this job I already sounded like a crabby old woman.

I shook off those frightening thoughts and focused on my task at hand. Once lunch was over, I would scour the kitchen clean and get the hell out of Dodge. I was meeting Natalie for coffee, plus one of her friends, Bianca, so that was something to look forward to.

This week of serving lunch had made me realize how desperate I was to be around people my own age. I couldn’t wait to talk about adult things and not see little kids pulling each other’s hair, crying over the size of their food servings or wearing string cheese like a mustache.

Had I mentioned it had been a long week?

And it was only Wednesday?

The line of kids kept coming. My feet started to cramp. Perhaps I should have worn sensible shoes with arch support, but these were my favorite flats. I scooped potatoes and carrots and salad like a woman on fire. The faster I got them through, the faster my job was done.

A particularly tiny kid peered up at me from behind thick glasses, and I gave him a smile. Holy crap, he was adorable. I’d seen him yesterday. He was the only one who’d bothered to stop and thank me for lunch.

With a friendly grin, the kid held up his tray. “My mom makes her mashed potatoes like this,” he told me in a matter-of-fact tone.

I nodded and dropped a scoop on his plate. “Do you like it?”

“I pretend I do, but when she doesn’t look, I feed it to Baxter.”

“Michael,” a warm, rumbling voice said, popping up from out of nowhere. It was Gavin. He leaned over a bit toward the kid and said, “We have to keep the line moving. The nice lunch lady needs to feed others.” When he straightened and saw me, he blinked, and a heated flush crawled up my throat and cheeks.

The look of utter shock on his face wasn’t flattering at all.

I lifted my chin. “Hello.”

“You work here? I thought…” Gavin cleared his throat, and his Adam’s apple bobbed right above the knot of his blue tie. “I figured there was some kind of certification or testing to be in food service at a school.”

Righteous anger flared in my belly, and I scooped carrots onto Michael’s plate. “I passed my background check
and
the exam, thank you very much. I’m perfectly qualified.”

That one damn brow quirked—apparently this was his signature look for me. It seemed he didn’t think I should be allowed anywhere near food. Or kids. “I see.”

My cheeks burned more. Like I wasn’t already feeling awkward enough about my life. I didn’t need this guy judging me. “I notice you don’t have a tray,” I noted in a haughty tone, “and my line is starting to back up. So if you don’t mind…”

“By all means,” he said as he backed away, hands in the air. “Please, continue.” But he didn’t leave the area. He just watched me in silence while I served the next kid.

“These potatoes are lumpy and look funny,” the girl said in a high-pitched whine.

It was so hard to keep the fake smile plastered on my face. “It’s homestyle. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

Gavin huffed a small laugh, but I refused to look at him.

I thrust my chin higher in the air and urged the kid along.

“I’ll see you later,” Gavin said to me softly. The almost verbal caress of his voice drew my attention to those potent green eyes.

The air caught in my throat, and I could feel my pulse flutter madly.

“Oh, and Anna?”

“Yeah?” I was a bit embarrassed by how breathy I sounded.

“You have mashed potatoes in your hairnet.” With that, he walked off.

It was too bad the earth couldn’t just swallow a person whole. I was forced to stay in line and serve the rest of the kids, though I was desperate to run off and fix my hair. When the last kid got his food, I ran to the back, grabbed a mirror out of a purse and found a lump of potatoes right behind my ear.

Wonderful. I couldn’t even imagine how that had happened.

I funneled all my frustration into cleaning the countertops and washing dishes as my coworkers took care of garbage disposal and other tasks before they exited the kitchen one by one, leaving me alone. For once, I didn’t internally complain about the grunt work. It was mindless enough to help me work out my irritation.

Stupid Gavin and his stupid smug grin. Not all of us could be as fortunate as he was to finish our stupid degrees and get stupid secure jobs.
Scrub scrub.
By the time I finished, the stainless steel was spotless and gleaming. I had to admit there was something to be said for actually seeing the fruits of your labor. Mom would be proud.

The offhand thought just flew into my head, and my mood soured again. It was all her fault everything had gone so badly. And yet…a tiny part in the back of my head nagged me. If Dad and I hadn’t been so reliant upon her and her money, it wouldn’t be this bad for us. We could have had our own nest egg to fall back on.

I tossed the sponge into the sink and sighed as I gripped the edge of the bowl. This whole situation was so messed up. And the worst part was…I missed her. Despite how much she’d hurt me and Dad, despite the deep anger and pain wrestling in my heart, I missed my mom.

And that made me feel dumber than ever, because who would miss a person who’d broken her heart and cheated on her father?

I put away the supplies, flicked off the lights and practically ran out of the school. A quick glance at my phone confirmed I was right on time.

I hopped on my bike and pedaled down Main Street. I pulled my bike into a rack, locked it and walked the rest of the way to a quaint coffee shop, where I was supposed to meet the girls in a few minutes. It was hard to shake off that lingering sadness, but I made myself.

Right now I wanted to be happy. I needed one afternoon of feeling like a regular human being.

Before I entered, I grabbed my phone and shot Fiona a quick text.
Hope you’re doing well. How are classes?
I hit send and sighed as I tucked it back into my pants. She’d stopped being so livid with me when I’d found her a replacement roommate, but our relationship had changed. I rarely heard from her now. It was like once I’d left the city, I’d ceased existing.

Well, maybe she was swamped with school work. I remembered all too well how many nights we’d spent in the campus library, freaking out over papers due the next morning.

Man, what I’d give to have that chaos back.

The door to the coffee shop dinged as I entered, and the rich scent of java hit me right in the happy spots. I couldn’t help but smile, breathe deeply. The room was large with wooden tables scattered around. People chatted in small clusters, and soft instrumental music played in the background. On the right wall was a row of wooden bookshelves filled to the brim with paperbacks. A sign at the top said to help ourselves and read whatever we wanted while in the shop.

This place was definitely new since I’d moved away. But now that I’d discovered it, I knew I’d be spending a lot more time here. Cheap coffee and books? Yes, please.

I made my way to the counter, where a girl who couldn’t have been more than eighteen shot me a beatific smile. Her blond hair was almost the same shade as mine.

“Hi. What can I get you today?” she asked me in that perky tone of someone who’d been mainlining coffee all day.

I laughed. “I’ll take twelve of whatever you just had.”

“Yeah, I’m a little wired,” she admitted with a chuckle.

“How about a café latte with…a shot of vanilla?”

“You got it. I’ll holler when it’s ready. What’s your name?”

“Anna. Thanks!” I found an empty table near the bookshelves and grabbed a seat. Checked my hair in the mirror once more just to make sure there weren’t any lingering mashed potatoes.

Which made me think about Gavin, which was irritating, so I pushed him right back out of my head.

A couple of minutes later, the door dinged and in walked Natalie, her brown hair dancing with the air current that followed her inside. Her gray knit dress hugged her figure, and the brown knee-high boots accented her curves. She shot me an ear-to-ear grin. “Oh good! You made it!”

Right on her heels was a girl around our age who had dark hair tipped in purple highlights. Her shirt was off the shoulder, and she’d been poured into her tight jeans and super-high red heels that matched her red lipstick.

I liked her style instantly.

“You must be Anna,” the girl said as she came around and shook my hand. “I’m Bianca. Do you sing or play an instrument?”

Natalie laughed, and both of them took a seat at the table. “Unless I’m remembering wrong, Anna can’t hold a note to save her life.”

“She’s right,” I said with a rueful grin. “I suck at music.”

“Damn. You’d look great in our band.” Bianca stood and shrugged. “Oh well. You can still come support us—we have a gig next month. I’ll go order our coffee.” She walked off, and several male eyes in the room strayed to follow her progress.

“She’s a spitfire,” I whispered.

“That’s why I love her. She tells it like it is.” Natalie’s eyes narrowed a fraction as she eyed me. “You okay? You seem a bit off. How was work?”

I shot her a sour look and explained about the Great Mashed Potato Debacle, including the mini-snack I’d stored in my hair.

She chortled. “Well, your hair looks great now, for what it’s worth. I bet that was a huge shock, seeing Gavin there. I forgot he worked at the school. I’m pretty sure that’s a new job for him.” She leaned closer, and her eyes flashed with interest. “Tell me, is he as hot as I remember? Because sometimes I’d see him around town and he looked
so
damn fine.”

“I hate to admit it, but he’s smoking.”

“Who’s smoking?” Bianca asked as she distributed three mugs to us. “Your coffee was ready, so I brought it back.” She settled into her seat and smiled at my nod of thanks.

“We were talking about Gavin Metcalf, the new kindergarten teacher at the elementary school,” Natalie supplied.

“Oh. Yeah. He’s sex on a stick,” Bianca said after taking a sip of her drink. She reached into her purse, tugged out a small flask then dumped a hearty dollop of booze in her coffee. “Want any?”

I snorted a laugh. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Anna,” Natalie said in a gentle voice. She reached over and patted my hand. “So…how are you doing?”

My heart sped up a touch at the concern in her eyes. When I’d asked her for help finding a job, she hadn’t pried for details. She’d just dug around town until she’d gotten me a lead. I’d told her about my parents’ separation, how we were on a tight budget, but like I’d done with everyone else, she didn’t know the full truth.

“I’m all right,” I said with a sigh and squeezed her fingers. “Thanks for asking. Just trying to get by every day, yanno?”

“If I can do anything, let me know, okay?” Natalie released my hand and drank from her coffee.

“Me too.” The sincerity in Bianca’s eyes struck me. “I know we just met, but any friend of Natalie’s is a friend of mine.”

“Thank you,” I told them, touched. I pressed a hand to my chest and blinked away the sting of tears hitting my eyes.

“I have an idea,” Bianca said. “We need a night out.”

“Oh God, yes!” Natalie exclaimed. She leaned back in her seat. “We’re taking you out, Anna. No arguments. Are you busy tomorrow night?”

“Let me check my busy social calendar,” I said drolly as I tugged my phone out and pulled up the calendar app. From here until eternity was blank except for my two hours of work every weekday. “I think I can pencil you in.”

“Awesome. There’s a local bar that’s a ton of fun, and the drinks are super cheap.” Natalie clapped and beamed at both of us. “Wear something hot, Anna. We’re going to take your mind off all your woes.”

I sipped my beer and eyed the dimly lit bar as I shifted in my stool. For a Thursday night, it was packed. Probably because it was the only bar in Edgewood Falls, from what Natalie had told me. A bright white light flashing Tino’s Bar rested above the glass mirror behind the wood-trimmed bar, and the hum of conversation floated over the music playing from the digital jukebox.