Broke Blondie

Even though I was expecting it, it still lifted a wight off my shoulders; I had a place to sleep, at least for tonight. "Thanks."

He nodded, then rose to his feet.

"You're leaving?" hiding my joy behind an indifferent face.

"No." He said, smiling, like he knew what I was thinking. "I'll sleep in the office. And I'll lock the doors if you don't mind."

I nodded. He didn't trust me with neither the liquor nor the register. He was smart.

Next Day

It was 1 p.m., and I was preparing myself to leave the bar--meaning I was sat on the table in the corner sipping on the last drink that Ray had generously gifted me: strawberry juice. I didn't mind. He said that I better reach my sister's with a clear head, and I agreed. If she saw the slimiest sign of me being drunk--or worse high--I'd be domed.

I'd been prolonging going out the door since the afternoon. I really hated that I was forced to go to her now. She would probably not help me, and even if she did, she'd surely have her fun with it.

I sighed, looking down at what remained of my drink, determined that I'd finish it and head out the door. The door opened, so I looked towards it. It took me a moment to register in the face of the person who walked in, and my eyes widened when I did. It was her.

My face screwed in anger, as my first impulse was to go give the broad an earful. But of course, I repressed it. I had no right.

My eyes trailed her as she stood in front of the bar and asked Rayan for a drink. She wore a loose cyan t-shirt, a pair of gray joggers with their bottom hem pulled to her shins, and a pair of black converse shoes. My eyes, amused and a bit envious, paused at her legs for a moment, then moved to her upper body. Broad was fit. Not overly fit, not masculine.

As I was setting in the corner behind her to the left, I could only get a glimpse of her face while she waited for her drink. Rayan gave me a wide-eyed look as he prepared it. And all I could think was 'don't look at me you idiot.' She turned sideways randomly--but probably cause of his little sneaky look--and her eyes wondered around for a bit before she noticed me. She paused for a split second, then turned back to the bar. Her face really held a don't-fuck-with-me look, which, combined with her body, should've served as a warning for me yesterday.

Ray gave her a drink, a polite smile on his face--or maybe he was just resisting to laugh. She grabbed it and walked to the left side of the bar, my side. I busied myself with my strawberry and looked down, a bit anxious about meeting her eye. I heard her walk to one of the tables and grab a seat. I looked up, she was sitting two tables ahead of me, and she caught my eye again. I looked away first.

I grew anxious thinking about what was running through her head. Was she expecting an apology? Probably not; I was the one with a still sore jaw.

But something made me want to go up there and just say hi, as in 'hi let's forget I tried to rob you with a plastic knife.' I was feeling a bit guilty about that, even though she'd gotten more than even with me. A way to put it behind me, I suppose.

I took a deep breath then walked to her table. She saw me getting close, and when I reached her, she leaned back, her arms crossed under her chest, and raised an eyebrow, and my knees felt weak.

"Hi." I smiled nervously.

For some reason that caused her to smile too. She tilted her head. "Hey." She narrowed her eyes in confusion as I went silence not knowing what to say next. "What? need another ten bucks?" she gave her dangling foot a slight blow forward, imitating a kick.

"No please," I half-chuckled, holding my hands a bit forward jokingly. "I'll pass thanks."

She nodded. Her face was friendly, then it got a bit confused again, waiting for me to say something, all the while I stood there cracking my knuckles nervously like a mute idiot.

I didn't know why, but ever since my childhood, I had a slight but still fucking annoying anxiety when it came to talking to girls, especially pretty young ones like the one in front of me now. It was a pain that I had gotten used to. But it certainly wasn't helping my case now.

"Wow." She nodded with a smile. "You really suck at this."

"At what?" I said eagerly, happy that she'd said something and didn't leave me hanging there.

"Apologizing." She said. "That's what you're trying to do..." her lips pursed. "Right?"

Not really, not exactly. But I didn't want to disappoint her. she seemed friendly. "Yeah." I let out a shaky exhale as I nodded. "Can't remember the last time I've given one." Embarrassment reddened my cheeks, especially that, judging by her smooth clear face, I was probably the older one between the two of us. I was five or six years older than her at least. She looked in her early twenties, maybe 21, though she acted a bit older.

With that, I went into another phase of silence, and thankfully this time she didn't have the patience to wait, so she just sighed and said, "Anyway. No worries. You were obviously drunk. You maybe have a lot going on. Still not an excuse...but whatever."

"Yeah. Yeah I do." I said. "And you're right. Not an excuse."

She nodded, then nodded, then nodded, then I was still there. "Anything else?" She smiled.

"Nop." I said, then turned around to walk back to my table, but she stopped me midway.

"Those yours?"

I looked back at her, and she was looking questionably at the suitcases near my table. "Yeah," I said.

"...Moving out?"

"Emmm." I thought about an accurate description of my messed-up living arrangement. "Evicted, actually."

Her eyebrows rose, and she bit her lower lip as if she was thinking. "Wanna sit down?" She prodded her shoe against the chair across from her.

There really wasn't a good reason for me to do that, one that I knew about anyway. There wasn't a good reason to refuse either. So I pulled the seat in front of her and sat down. Suddenly self-conscious about my state, I wrapped my hands around my arms. Hair messy. Unwashed clothes ruffled. And whole me probably stank of both booze and sweat. I couldn't have been a pleasant sight to look at. But she gave me a slight friendly smile, as if to tell me to relax. I did.

"So, I didn't catch your name?"

"Jena," I said. "You?"

"Kristen." She said, "Kris."

I nodded, then looked at her cup. A white cup with some black inside it. "That coffee?"

She looked down then giggled. "Yeah."

"Coming to a bar and ordering a coffee?"

"The closest decent coffee shop is twenty minutes farther from here. And this one is like half the price. So I like to work here." She nodded at the big tablet on her table. "It's uncrowded at this hour."

The fact that she worked surprised me. "How old are you?"

"Twenty four."

"Holy shit you look younger."

"So they tell me." She shrugged, tucking a strand of her black hair behind her ear. "You?"

I was about to answer, when instead I said, with a jokingly shy expression, "Guess." For some reason, I wanted to her an answer, an estimate.

"...Emm." She pursed her lips, wiggling her head. "Mid-thirties..." She smiled politely upon seeing my suddenly dull reaction. "Early...thirties."

"Twenty-six." I rolled my eyes. I shouldn't have been offended, since I had asked for it. But I was.

She nodded, seeming to notice the slight awkwardness that fell upon our conversation. "You look much younger." She smiled awkwardly.

"Shut up..." I chuckled, brushing her off. "It's okay." My eyes wondered around her, taking in the details of her face. She looked so...good. She was beautiful. Her hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, looking shiny and healthy with a rich black color. Her face features were delicate, her nose sharp and thin, her lips slightly plump, and her eyes green and circled by a thin line of black eyeliner that contrasted beautifully with her white skin. She didn't wear makeup beyond that, to my knowledge at least, not that she needed any.

I grew aware of my staring and stopped, then realized she had been staring at me silently, and for a second I wondered if she was doing the same, noticing my pale color and my wrinkled forehead and messed-up blonde hair.

She gave the moment some time to pass before she said. "Have anything planned?"

I thought about that. She probably wanted to stay a little longer. I didn't have any plans. Only thing that was left for me to do was go to my sister's, and I'd take any chance to prolong that. "Not really."

With that, she bought me a drink, a coffee like hers. I didn't like that she chose for me, but it was free, and besides, it was 12 p.m., I didn't feel that confident telling her I preferred a whisky.

As more people kept filling up the bar then leaving it, we stayed here, sitting and chatting. She wasn't a talker. Well, she was. She basically managed the conversation, but I was the one doing most of the talking, as she kept asking me one question after the other. For a moment there I felt like I was being interviewed. I told her about how I lost my job, how my money ran out, how I had no place to go but my sister's now, and that I wasn't particularly fond about the fact. She asked me why I and my sister were on the outs. I lied, saying we just didn't get along that well. I was pretty honest with her, but I couldn't be honest with her about that. Truth was, my sister hated my guts.

When my mother died, she left us some money. Not a lot, but it was something. Me having been me at that time, I blew my money in a matter of months. Right now I didn't remember on what. Clothes and jewelry that I had now sold most of. Parties with friends that wouldn't even acknowledge me anymore. And drinks that made me enjoy the whole thing while it lasted. Now, short story was, after I blew mine, I told my sister I had an idea of a business and I wanted her to contribute if she liked, and she, oblivious to the fact that I had less than 400$ to my name and she having been naïve enough to trust her big sister, contributed with a big chunk of her share, and I blew it the same was I blew mine.

Now I had reasons for being a bitch. I was young dumb and stupid. But I doubted any of those would mean anything to the girl sitting in front of me. The fact she was two years younger only made me feel more envious, and ashamed, about how good she seemed to be doing. I mean, she clearly had money. Her clothes didn't look from any ridiculously expensive brand or anything, nothing like the ones I so stupidly used to buy in tons. Hers were just...high quality. Her phone and tablet looked like some fancy shit too. And she had that... comfortable, relaxed aura to her, the kind that people who live from paycheck to paycheck didn't have.

"So." She stretched, looking around the bar. "Holy shit. What time is it--" She said before looking at her phone. "Nice. We've been talking for like...three hours."

"My god." I said, truly surprised. Time flew.

"Anyway." She said, "So how... unexcited are you...about going to your sister."

"...Very." I widened my eyes while juggling the coffee inside my cup. "And honestly I'm not sure if she'll even open the door, let alone help me or allow me to stay."

"Jeez." Kris's brows arched, before she narrowed her eyes at me, giving me a slight smile. "What'd you do to the poor girl? Come on confess."

"Nothing..." I whined. "She just... nothing. We were never close that's all."

She kept her eyes on me for a moment, before she looked away, looking only partially satisfied with my answer. She got silent for a minute, her chin probed on her palm as she stared into her cup of coffee, and looked deep in thought.

"Okay..." She turned her head up, like she had made an important decision. "This'll sound a bit... weird. But... would you consider living with me?"

The question slapped me to alert. What? "...You're asking me to live with you?" I said, confused, before I added. "Girl who tried to rob you."

"Well, judging by the red spot on your chin, I'd say that we're even."

More than even, actually. She must've kept me under her foot for like a minute after it was perfectly clear I was no threat at all; she didn't have to do that. But I wasn't about to point that out to her. I leaned back a bit, trying to take it all in. "...You live alone?"

She nodded.

Should've guessed.

She was maybe dumber than I thought. I was pretty sure I had made it clear in my answers that I didn't have two pennies to rub together. "But... I don't have any money?"

"It's okay." She shook her head. "You'll start paying me back once you get a job."

"I've been searching for months." I shrugged, trying to ignore my confusion about why she was offering me this. "And it's not like the economy or this shitty town is getting any better. It can be ages before I get a job."

She pursed her lips, almost seeming irritated that I was questioning her offer. Her lips thinned in a slight smile before she shrugged. "I have no problem with that. We'll figure it out."

All of her previous questions suddenly made sense to me; it sounded like an interview, because it was basically an interview, based on which she decided if she wanted to let me into her home or not. But this still made no sense. And frankly, I was excited, but at the same time worried. "Come on..." I gave her a knowing smile. "What are you a saint. Where's the catch?"

She kept a straight face for a bit, before she grinned at me and looked down at the table. "Okay," She said. "I'll be expecting you to... I don't know... take care of the apartment, amongst other stuff."

I nodded, having had expected such a thing. "So... a maid, not a roommate."

"No..." she brushed me off. "Not a maid. Just... you know... pick after yourself..." She glanced away. "And me."

"That's a maid."

"..." She shrugged, glancing away from me then back. "You'll have a place to live."

I looked away and kept my offended feelings to myself. She must've thought I was desperate; she wasn't wrong. Her offer still annoyed me though, so much that I wanted to tell her to piss off, but of course I didn't.

Having chatted with Kris for hours, I could tell that the girl seemed nice. But I really didn't know her; she could still be a complete snob. As much as I hated it, it was probably better to give my sister a shot first. Besides, I knew myself; I felt depressed at jobs that were a lot less embarrassing and humbling than picking up after a another, younger girl.

"Will you give me a minute?" I rose to my feet, and she nodded. I excused myself and walked to the left side of the bar, where Rayan kept his phone. I dialed my sister number, and waited as the buzzing sound went on and off, until she finally answered.

"Hello?" She said, in her bubbly friendly tone.

My tongue felt numb for a second. I hadn't talked to her for months. "Sally," I forced myself to say through shaky lips. The phone went silent for a second.

"What?"

"..." Her cold blank tone shouldn't have surprised me. "I..." I took deep breath before I said, "How are you?"

I only heard her breath, refusing to answer.

"I need your help."

She chuckled, more irritated than amused. "Great." She didn't talk, and I hoped she was considering it; it gave me some hope. "Bye Jena."

"No wait wait wait." My fingers tensed around the phone. "Please."

"What!"

"I'm homeless... okay. I have nowhere else to go."

"Your problem not mine."

I whined, "Sally--"

"Unless you're fighting for your life in the hospital or dead... I don't want see you. I thought I made that clear."

I stopped biting my lips long enough to say, "Will, you don't have to see me. You can just send me some money and I'll pay you back--"

She ended the call.

"Bitch." I slammed the phone shut, then gave Ray an apologetic smile once he noticed it.

I walked back to Kris's table, where she sat scrolling randomly on her phone. "Hey." I sat down.

"So?" She put the phone away.

"...I'm in." I said, and watched as her mouth curled up in a faint smile. I didn't know what she was hoping for, but I was going to get some things straight. "But... just to be clear. We're roommates. Right?"

"Was that your sister on the phone?" Her green eyes narrowed.

"...Yeah. So?"

"Nothing. We're roommates yeah."

"Not... tenant and landlord, and defiantly not ma'am and maid. I don't have money and I'm not the best housekeeper. So just so we're on the same page." I said, trying to sound a bit firm in my tone. I was desperate, but, especially with what happened yesterday, I wouldn't want her to think I was a desperate wimp. "Deal?"

For some reason, what I said, or maybe the way I said it, forced a smile on her lips as she nodded. "Whatever you say tough girl. Come one let's go." She got to her feet and put her stuff in her purse.

I stood up and almost started walking with her toward the door, when she stopped me and nodded to the table in the corner. "Your suitcases."

"Right!" I turned back and went to grab them.

I was a bit offended she didn't offer me a hand with one of them, but whatever. We walked out of the bar as I waved goodbye to Ray, whose confusion was clear as for why was I walking out of here with this girl.

"So you live near here right?"

"Yeah, ten-minute walk." She nodded ahead. "You hungry?"

I had forgotten that I had a stomach ever since I got evicted. Now that she'd mentioned it, I was starving. "Ravenous."

She nodded. "We'll grab KFC on our way home."

.......I love her.

Like she'd said, we grabbed KFC on our way and headed home to eat there. Her street was as shitty as mine. Long project buildings. Many wanna-be-gangsters hanging out here or there, most of them around their twenties.

Out of nowhere, she called to one of them who was leaning against a staircase a couple of meters away from us, "How's it going turd-face." She said in passing.

He got a blank look on his face, before he looked down, seeming half-disinterested-half-worried.

Kris shook her head as we just continued walking. "Dick."

"You know him?" I asked.

"He tried to make a pass at me a week ago."

"Oh."

"Gave him the same kick I gave your face, but to his groin."

"Ahh--" My whole body shrank, unable to imagine the pain. "Poor guy."

We made it to her building, which was a few blocks ahead, then got in the lift and went up to the ninth floor. I didn't rise my hopes up in terms of what the apartment could look like. I'd be disappointed if it ended up being worse than mine though.

She opened the door and let me in. As I got my suitcases inside, she turned the lights on, and my eyes widened. "What the fuck--" I whispered.

She giggled. "You like it?"

I only chuckled, unable to speak clearly. It wasn't a mansion but compared to the apartments I lately had been living in, it was. We were in the living room. It had Paige walls and a modern décor, a couple of black leather couches around a white coffee table, which faced the wall that had a big ass TV on it. On the other wall was a big ass window that had a lovely view of the town, which I didn't think would look beautiful from any height; I was dead wrong.

She must've given up on me saying anything, cause she walked to the coffee table and started unpacking the food bags, and the hot chicken smell that wafted from them reminded me that I was starving. I closed my gaping mouth shut, not wanting to give her any signs what I was that impressed, but I probably had already gave her that impression.

"Come!" She said as she sat on the couch. "Before it gets cold."

I rushed towards the other couch and dug in.

We sat and ate in silence. Both of us were starving enough so that our mouths were full too much to talk anyway. I looked around my new apartment, still taking its awesomeness, compared to the dumpster I used to live in. A lovely detail I noticed, was that it was spotless. Everything in its place and the surfaces and windows sparkling clean. I smiled taking a sip of my coke; this could work.