Tight spot

EVANGELINE MILLER

"No, I didn't get fired. Thank you for asking!" I yelled as I kicked my shoes off and dipped my feet into the blue flip-flops by the door.

Harper just stared, waiting for me to let it out as always. She sat up, monk style, on a bean bag with her phone, of course, then gently placed it by her side.

I took off my jacket and flung it across the room. I didn't see what it landed on, but there was a crashing sound that I was going to check later when I felt saner.

Right now, the weight of the world rested on my shoulders, I was beginning to feel like I walked out of the marvel dictionary and the writers were trying to dump heart-wrenching backstories on me, so when I finally become a murderous villain on the loose, there would be some sort of justification for it.

I sighed, unbuttoning my shirt too. I tore it off, falling to my bed in nothing but a singlet and a trouser so tight around the waist, I could almost not breathe.

"Spill, Hun. What part of the Hollywood story are you right now? Did you meet the guy from earlier and sign a marriage contract with him?" Her voice was giddy, unlike my entire existence.

No, I met Arsher White and mistook him for a Taxi.

I swallowed hard, choking on my embarrassment.

Oh... Harper. If I met the 'guy' from earlier, I would crawl my way to Mars and be ostracized, and I would reject help even from Kara Zo-el. I don't mind eating rocks from the moon for breakfast.

I nodded, struggling my way out of bed and walking to the refrigerator. I took out a Coke bottle, taking it by its neck like I would Mercury and twisting its cap till it came off— okay, maybe I wouldn't do that to her.

Maybe. Either way, she was a reasonable fraction of the totality of my problem. Her agency, if not her, but all the same, she makes most calls. I couldn't get the call I received from Marcus' school out of my head.

And neither could I get the stranger from this morning out of my head. His face had been ingrained somewhere deep into my memories.

—there was a fluttering emotion I felt in my stomach whenever I remembered it, although I wasn't sure that should be happening.

I gulped down the Coke, feeling the bubbling sweetness race down my throat. I felt good enough to reveal my series of misfortune to my best friend now.

As though she already knew, Harper dropped her phone AGAIN, and turned to me, her hands cupping her cheek—that was her indication of 'you have my full attention' —just the way I wanted it.

Her eyes were full of expectation, and I stared into them, a smile frozen on my face because I had no idea where or how to start explaining. In twenty-four hours, I had not only woken up on a stranger's bed but also made a mess of myself before the one person I shouldn't have.

"Does it hurt?" Harper asked, and I stared at her, confused.

"What?"

"There," she motioned towards my 'down there' with her head, a sly smile on her face.

"Oh, you slut!" I lunged at her with a throw pillow.

"That's the only way I can tell if it was good sex!" She yelled with a half-shrug. "Was it? Did he fuck good? I couldn't ask in the morning."

Yes, and yes. But I didn't say. Thinking about it was ridiculous enough.

I shook my head. "Unbelievable…." I sat. "You know what? I need to call Marcus, then I can tell you whatever the hell happened," I said weakly, silently hoping my cell phone would pick itself up and call him instead.

Harper's lips formed an 'o' before she pursed them. I knew she understood. We've been through so many seasons of intense financial instability and contemplating shaving our heads off and becoming monks to not care about 'worldly' possessions.

"Did you get the call?" His voice permeated through the phone's speaker and sent bubbles of nervousness ramming into the pit of my stomach.

Seriously, this was the first thing he thought to say to me?

"For a sixteen-year-old, you're a bitch sometimes. Does anyone ever tell you?" I responded, still tired. I put the phone on the speaker and dropped it next to me, tying my hair into a ponytail before I gave my hair an impromptu cutting session.

"Nah...just you. I appreciate the love, sis. They said they were going to reach out, and you called. We never really talk unless you know... something happens, so I was wondering..."

Okay, that made me feel a little guilty. I was trying my best to be a good sister and to be a rich sister. One of those responsibilities always seemed to outweigh the other. I've spent so much time trying to fill in the monetary needs, I forget what communication even is.

"Well...you know what they say, the rich never calls-"

"No one says that, Evangeline. And you're not 'the rich'." He said again, and I swear I could see him air-quoting and rolling those blue eyes.

I made a mean face he definitely wouldn't see, except Harper cracked up, and I couldn't help it too.

"Is Harper there?" Marcus asked. Of course, he'd ask. He'd had a crush on her for as long as forever. I can see his face going red if he wasn't two states away from me.

Harper flashed me a small smile, and I threw her a pillow. I think she enjoyed the attention from all angles and definitely had a degree of teasing Marcus about his inappropriate crush on her.

"Your business is your education, son," I said, making my voice a little deeper — SpongeBob's narrator style. "I'd sort it out, okay? I promise, you just keep doing the good stuff, and we'll pull through this together."

Silence. I could tell he was thinking about it, too, just as I always do. It was never an option, and some things are never there if you convince yourself just enough of their absence.

"Should we just ask him? I mean...I know it's a little hard on you right now, and he-"

"Marcus." I cut through his words, "We're not doing that. I'd handle this just as I have always done. He's not our business anymore, okay?"

My eyes landed on Harper and the apologetic look on her face, even after how many times I've told her not to look at me like I was a puppy in the rain.

There wasn't a way in hell I would ask my father for financial assistance. I'd rather walk through the crowd in San Francisco in a bikini. Fuck him, and fuck his money, and fuck his pale white corpse of a wife that goes around with him before flashing cameras and the sweet nothings.

I clutched the bed sheet tighter, angrier than I was beginning.

"Okay." He echoed, "Thanks, sis, you should stay safe..."

"Or not"

"Or not"

We both completed and laughed at our nerfed inconsideration for each other. My phone beeped at the end of the call, and I fell back to my bed, my eyes fixed on the light as I focused and unfocused my gaze to watch it burst into a thousand beams.

"Wanna talk about it now? Is there anything I can help with?" Harper asked, sitting up with her beady eyes boring into my skin. It was as though she could picture my soul.

That was creepy.

"No, Harper. I still owe you, remember? I just- I don't know." I rummaged through my hair, "I might have to take a weekend job, you know? My pay is supposed to be increased this month, but you never know with AULA..." My voice trailed off.

There was a lump rising in my throat, and I knew better than to keep talking. The ocean, in my eyes, wouldn't hesitate to break loose.

"I can help with whatever I have, and you know that, right?"

"I know...trust me, I do. Right now, I want you to focus on your work and the monthly stipend for eomma." We were so used to calling Harper's mom 'Eomma' that I had even forgotten what her real name was.

"Ah...that reminds me. A friend of mine mentioned a job that pays ridiculously, but... it just seems a bit odd. Then again, nothing is not odd in the USA." She said, picking up her phone and typing aggressively for a small moment.

She turned the screen to me, and my jaw dropped. That a person was willing to pay that much for a nanny is so ridiculous. It was almost twice my monthly pay in AULA, and that was just a week's pay.

"Is that even legit?" I questioned like any other reasonable person would. "I mean... that's huge."

"Right? It is, though, the source is very credible, and according to her, the nanny changes at least twice a month, but it is very credible. If you can do this for a week, then- that's something, yk? You'd pay off at least a quarter of all that shit."

She was right. Working there for a full month would put me back into balance. As much as I loved the thought of it, it seemed far-fetched.

"It's adult-sitting, so there should be a difference, don't you think? She also told me it's for one of those influential families..." Harper whispered like we weren't the only ones around right now.

"I see..." I hugged a pillow, "ah, I don't know. There's a reason they're paying that much to sit an adult. I mean…I don't. Just keep your eyes open, I'd do the same, but right now, I just want to sleep!"

"You should. You need your beauty sleep." She responded before taking a quick pause, "How on earth did you mess up your ride this morning?"

No, no way.

"You don't want to know, trust me. Don't bring back bad memories."

"Alright then."

I sprang out of bed again. "Do you think I can do it, though?"

"Do what?" Harper quizzed.

"Sit an adult?"

"You just have to be nice enough and let them walk all over you. You're good at that."

"Hm, mean."

"You love me."

I should take the job. It was too big an opportunity to let go.