Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Alicia! Hola, chica!” A voice I know all too well fills my ears.
Life is truly determined to rub this situation in my face. It’s not that I didn’t like or get along with Elena. Just the opposite. We’ve gotten along great ever since we met as project partners in a history class last year. She’s fun and laid-back and takes no shit from anybody.
It’s just that she’s exactly the kind of person I was just thinking of. Somebody who never has to worry about anything. She doesn’t have to work, so she has plenty of time to hang out and make friends and go to parties. I’m sure if she was the kind of person who joined clubs, she’d be in a ton of those. Whenever we have a few minutes to chat after class, she tells me about how she has to go shopping or how she’s got a hair or nail appointment she needs to get to. All I can do is nod and wish I had the kind of life where those were actual problems.
When she reaches me, she frowns, her eyes darting over my face. “What’s wrong? Whose ass do I need to kick?”
I blurt out a laugh, but like magic, that single little outburst is all it takes to open the floodgates. The tears that were only threatening to well up now do more than that, spilling onto my cheeks before I can stop them.
“Hey, hey, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Here, take a seat.” Elena places a hand on my shoulder, guiding me toward the nearest bench. “Can I get you anything? Do you need some water?”
I shake my head, embarrassed, searching in my backpack for a tissue. “I’m sorry. This is so dumb. You don’t need to be wasting time dealing with me being a blubbering baby.”
“Don’t do that. You’re like the least emotional person I know, which means something shitty must have happened. Now tell me, what’s going on?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“I said, what’s going on?”
Obviously, she’s not going to let me get away with this. I have to put my pride aside as much as it hurts. Besides, we’re friends—right?
“Fine! I can’t afford tuition. And they’re not going to let me slide like they have before. If I can’t make up the difference, I’ll be put on a waitlist next semester, and I’ll have to wait until next year to finish my classes. I can’t do that. I can’t waste an entire year that way.”
“How much do you need?” she asks without blinking an eye.
“I swear to God, Elena, if you’re even considering giving me the money, I will walk away from you right now and never talk to you again.”
The way she scowls tells me that’s exactly what she was thinking. “You could at least answer my question.”
“A few thousand.” God, it might as well be a million. “I have no idea how I’m going to make up the difference. I barely have time to sleep as it is, and I just got done telling my advisor no places are hiring around here. So I’m stuck with the shitty hours they’re giving me at the store. I don’t know what else to do. I’m starting to feel like this was all for nothing.”
“Don’t say that.” She frowns.
I almost laugh. “No offense, but it’s easy for you to tell me not to say it. I’m the one who knows how I’m feeling, and right now, it feels like all the money I’ve spent on tuition and everything else was a waste because I’m not going to end up graduating.”
I slide an embarrassed look her way, expecting her to tell me to fuck off or something. She was only trying to be helpful, after all. But all she’s doing is staring at me—no, studying me, her lips pursed like she’s thinking.
“What?” I finally have to ask. “What are you thinking? I can see the wheels turning in your head.”
She grins, but only briefly. “It’s just that I thought of something that might help you.” She hesitates a little.
“I told you, I’m not—”
“Would you stop talking over me and let me get this out?” she demands, shaking her head. “I was going to say, I think I might have a job for you.”
“Oh.” I sit up a little straighter, wiping away the last tear. “What is it? I’ll do just about anything. I’m that desperate.”
“It’s not… conventional.”
Oh god, I better stop her before the shit gets deep. “I don’t think I’d be a very good stripper if that’s what you’re thinking.”
She bursts out laughing, which is not exactly what a girl wants to hear at a time like this. It’s like she agrees with me or something, and it’s only slightly mortifying.
“It’s not stripping. In fact, you wouldn’t have to take off a stitch of clothing. Though don’t even act like you wouldn’t make a ton of cash if you shook that ass.”