Do you want to have sex with me?
Christ!
A loud whack echoes early in the morning joined by the ringing of my alarm clock.
Ouch! I feel my bum sore after I fell off the bed.
It was just a dream.
Wait, it isn't just a dream! It actually happened a week ago, and it has been haunting me every single second of my life. Even my sleep has become more of an option now rather than a necessity.
What was I even thinking when I said that?
I hate myself because of it.
"Angel, are you awake?" I hear Mom knocking on my door. Breakfast is ready for sure.
"I'm coming, Mom!" I sit on the floor before standing up. I feel my blood rushing from my stomach to my limbs and head, flowing throughout my body as the dizziness wanes. I clean up my bed and hit the shower.
School starts at ten, but I have a two-hour day job at Maxwell's Diner which starts at seven thirty in the morning. After class, I will resume work for another three hours. My day doesn't end there, though. I have another job at my school's cafeteria as a waitress. All these help me cut my college expenses and help Mom run the house.
After the economic meltdown, the New Jersey plumbing industry almost shut down, affecting almost all plumbers and agencies. Dad was a plumber and a small businessman while Mom worked at our office. We had this small company office in our building, just a floor away from our space, so we were fine for a while after the crisis. But when our small company shut down as well, Dad lost his living. Mom was forced to find a job in a small hotel as a chambermaid. Consequently, Dad got sick and was diagnosed with CRF or Chronic Renal Failure. It's in the end-stage, so he has dialysis twice a week. His medications and treatment really cost us a fortune. He has been in and out of the hospital three times already, the recent just two weeks ago. With Mom's job and my part-time jobs, we're hoping to sustain Dad's medical treatment. I'm finding school a nuisance now even though I only have a semester left before graduation. As a matter of fact, I have yet to pay my tuition dues for the final exam. I have thought of dropping school and just concentrate on my jobs. Maybe look for work that can support my family, perhaps a job with higher pay.
As I lather shampoo on my hair, I think of applying as secretary to Dr. Martin's clinic. He has offered me this job a week ago, and I turned it down. Yeah, I know I was stupid to do that. If only I knew things will be this tight, I would have accepted it right away. However, working full time in Dr. Martin's clinic means leaving school, and dropping out a few weeks before graduation will be as good as a blunder. Just four weeks more and I will be graduating! Think of what Mom and Dad could have done to me if I stopped school! Dad worked his ass off to get me to a university. Mom does all the household chores so that I could concentrate on my studies and my part-time jobs. Imagine the heartbreak I would have given them! It could have been awful. I would have sent Dad to an early death and Mom to the depths of despair.
Money is life, though.
Money is a college degree.
And money is Dad's assurance to a longer life.
Geez! I wish that one day it will rain money, and I'm going to make sure to carry big buckets and grab all money that my hands can. Dreaming doesn't hurt, I guess.
I scurry out of the shower and dry myself up.
I choose a pair of faded blue jeans and pink tank top 'Dream Big' printed in bold captions. Yeah, I believe in it. Well, that's what poor people hold onto in times of great need. It's free anyway.
I turn on my blow dryer and start doing my hair. My thick copper brown hair is used to ponytails, so I did the same old ponytail with full bangs. Today is not an exception I had this hairstyle since elementary. I put on some lip gloss as I never really wear makeup. Unpopular students like me stay away from the glitz and glamor like that. Besides, I'm pale and will not look good with it on. Trust me! I'll only look like a clown. Done that in high school for a stage play. I always take pride in my hazel green eyes, though. They're just like Dad and Mom's. They become light as gray when soaked in the sun.
"Mom?" I hurry downstairs with my leather sling bag.
"Hush, Angel!" reprimands Mom as she hears my footsteps on the stairs. "Your dad is still sleeping."
So I slow down.
"Toast and eggs for today!" Mom greets me with a kiss. Yeah, she smells like fried eggs.
I place my bag on the chair next to me.
"You can use my ATM for Dad's dialysis today, Mom," I say after taking a mouthful of bread. I am indeed very hungry for I missed dinner last night. The diner was so busy, and we were short of staff.
"Oh no, honey! You use your paycheck for school. You only have four weeks before graduation. Finals week is just a few sleep away," says Mom, giving me a kiss on the cheek. Her response sends guilt down to my stomach. "Your father and I are so proud of you!" Her smile reaches her eyes.
"Mom, are you sure you still have money for Dad's treatment?" No matter how I try to hide the worry in my voice, I can't help but crack. She always says no to me. Come to think of it, we still have to pay the monthly house lease which is two months delayed already. I am saving money for it, but I am keeping that a secret. I don't want the landlady to send us away and be homeless. That will be absolutely deplorable! Not with Dad's condition. No, I'm not going to let that happen. "I still have two more paychecks coming before the exams."
"No, Angel!" says Mom. "Keep your money. You will need that in the future."
Okay, here she goes again parading her motherly pride. She always thinks that children have no responsibility over their parents.
I stuff myself with the hefty breakfast. There's no room for me to get sick these days.
"Kiss Dad for me, too!" I said as I kiss her goodbye and left for work.
I took a bus. Maxwell's Diner is just three stopovers from our apartment.
"Ray!" I call my gay friend who works with me at Maxwell's. We attend the same university and take up the same degree.
"Yes, darling?" He winks at me after wiping a spill on a table.
"Can you cover table three for me?" I try to hide behind him. Table three is seven tables away from us, but I have to pull Ray to the counter beside the fridge to stay hidden.
"What's wrong with you?" He narrows his eyes at me while placing his hands on my hips.
"Check table three!" I say.
He turns to the table near the glass window.
"Oh my God!" he exclaims in terror, takes out his notebook and pen, and catwalks toward the group of guys. "I better get this!"
My heart thumps as I watch Ray talk to them. I commend him for his superb social skills. He's an expert when it comes to handling nerve-wracking conversations and can easily turn a rotting conversation into a spectacular show of laughs and jokes even if he has to lie. This time, Ray's doing so well, I don't think he notices me. By he, I mean Damien Etheridge. He's with his friends, obviously trying to have their breakfast in my territory. But why here when they can find a posh restaurant in a glamorous hotel? I'm pretty sure Damien has all the means. I just hope Ray plays them with his golden tongue.
I pull back, moving closer to the wall so they don't see me watching them. From afar, I can see Damien's poker face as though he doesn't believe anything he's hearing. Perhaps he is too smart to be fooled.
Ray returns with wide eyes and a thin line on his lips.
"What?" I ask.
He grasps my hand and pulls me inside the kitchen. Mr. Nguyen is busy cooking and so are two of his assistants.
"He asked for you!" Ray said in one breath. "He won't give his order unless you take it."
"Does his friends know?"
"I don't think so. Your stupidity is safe with him." Ray is stifling a laugh. I can see the telltale crinkles in his eyes. But when he sees me not amused with the friendly mockery, he stops. "They're asking for you and why you couldn't do the job."
"What did you say then?"
"I told him you're busy with the dishes and must not be disturbed."
"And he says what?"
"Well, I think I'm no good help after all." He heaves a sigh. "He won't leave the diner until you show up, or he said he'd call Mr. Maxwell."
Does he have the power to make things difficult for me?
Yes, he does!
Damien Etheridge is the mayor's only son, and his grandfather is one hell of a rich businessman. Hence, he is the first person who I thought would generously pay for pleasure. He's gained quite a staggering reputation, and from what I've heard, he keeps a group of beneficiaries who satiates his sexual hunger. Though these are just hearsays, I believe it. These rumors completely contradict his intelligent, charming, and well-respected front as Student Body Council President, but there's always two sides to a coin. Damien can do whatever he wants since he has all the resources. Why stop when he can well afford it? I don't mind becoming his beneficiary for money. I actually thought about it for so many hours every night, weighing all the pros and cons. The cons outweigh the pros because I'm pretty sure a woman's dignity is irreplaceable and priceless. However, it is my father we're talking about here.
"You must go there, Angel," Ray says.
"No way! You know what? I'll let him do whatever he wants. He can intimidate me using Mr. Maxwell all he wants, but I will never ever see his face again!"
Huh! What childish way to get to me!
Suddenly, I feel my cheeks warming when I remember that day when I asked that stupid question. He was stunned into silence for a couple of minutes. I was surprised, too. Not because of how I asked it, but with his reaction. I readied myself for bouts of degradation from him. I thought he was going to laugh, but he remained calmâ too calm that I thought he was overwhelmed with shock. Who would have thought that I, Angel Mohr, a straight A student, a devoted daughter, and a popular nerd who was featured in the local newspaper for being a role model to the youth and for winning the Essay of the Year could do such thing? These distinctions are as good as the Nobel Peace Prize for me, and I bet my life that Damien didn't see it coming. I quickly ran away from him as soon as I realized that it was a big, big mistake. I'm glad the realization came quickly for me.
"Okay, whatever works for you!" Rey replies before turning away from me, but before he could open the kitchen door, he frantically whispers, "Oh my, Angel! He's at the counter!"
I stand on my toe to peek through the circular glass window on the door.
Heavens! He's indeed there with his eyes roaming around, probably waiting to catch my shadow. Why is he even here?
He's holding his hands together, rubbing them as though his patience is slowly taking a toll out of him.
"What should I do?" I am unconsciously biting my thumb. I do this whenever I am anxious.
"I thought you said you'd let him do whatever he wants."
I thought so too, but I don't think I can handle that for now. I absolutely fear what he might say to me. I cringe just by recalling his facial expression that day. He was stunned and shocked â terribly shocked that I can't help thinking his head was filled with too many questions that he forgot I was still there standing in front of him, embarrassed as hell but still waiting for a positive reaction from him. Geez! The ground can eat me now!
"Angel, look!" Ray points his index finger to the main door where Mr. Maxwell comes in.
Damien turns to the old balding man with a protruding tummy in a checkered polo shirt. A dash of delight spreads across Damien's face as Mr. Maxwell walks toward him.
Crap! I don't like this. I don't like this at all.
They talk. It seems that Damien has persuaded Mr. Maxwell with whatever he wants to happen. Mr. Maxwell doesn't seem like he is objecting at all. Ahh, if only I can lip read.
"Gosh, Angel." I hear Ray's voice, sending chills down my ears. "I think you are in trouble."
I close my eyes as Mr. Maxwell strides to the kitchen with a forced smile on his face, and Ray pulls me to the corner.
"Where's Mohr?" Mr. Maxwell roars after the door closes behind him. "Oh, there you are!" he continued with his hands on his hips, and his lips curled to a half-smile. "Somebody's requesting for you."
"But I'm busy, Mr. Maxwell." I quickly fix my apron as though showing him I am busy.
"Is he the guy from table three? I can take their order, sir!" Ray raises his hand in an effort to help me out.
Mr. Maxwell's eyebrow rises. Damn! Ray should have just shut his mouth off. Now, Mr. Maxwell thinks we are not paying attention to our customers' needs. He probably thinks that Damien went to the counter to ask for a diner staff to take their order since nobody is coming for it. It isn't really the situation, but who knows what Mr. Maxwell must have in his mind right now.
Oh, please, just don't fire me!
"Mohr! Table three!" he barks at me.
I press my knuckles to my palms to ease the anxiety I am feeling. I feel Mr. Maxwell and Ray's eyes follow me as I exit the kitchen door. Damien is waiting at the counter, and by the time his eyes catch a glimpse of me, he smiles.
I felt a sinking feeling at the thought of what he might say to me. Clearly, he's here to make my life even more miserable. I'm too intelligent not to notice that it's most probably related to the incident a week ago.
I stand straight as though I am telling him not to mess up with me.
"Why are you here?" My brow arches as high as my hairline.
He calls me with three brief movements of his fingers, which I find way too arrogant. Can't he just call me by my name or is it that hard to speak a poor woman's name? I feel the fury raging through my veins.
"Come here!" he said with a slightly raised voice.
Nope! I stand my ground.
He takes out a small card from his pocket, smiles, and moves it closer to the edge of the counter so I can see what's in there. It's his calling card.
"For you," he says.
"And why do I need your number?"
"In case you need me," he confidently replies. "I have my apartment's address there, so you know where to find me when you've made up your mind." With that, he turns his back to me and heads to the door. His friends follow him while shooting glares at me.
Made up my mind? Geez! He has the gall to say that in front of me. How dare he?
My cheeks burn in mortification and my nose flares in annoyance. It's that stupid question's fault! Now here I am cursing myself for making that mistake, and he had to shove that stupidity to my face again. Will I ever get my peace back?
This is exactly the reaction I was expecting from him but not what I wanted to see. This calling card only suggests one thing: he's up for my offer. For all I know, he's going to shame me forever because of this. Asking that question is probably the biggest mistake of my life.
"What's that?" Ray asked from behind me.
"His calling card," I say with a sigh, picking up the thick piece of paper.
"Does this mean he wants to have sex with you?" Ray's eyes widen with curiosity. His voice lay low in the sex part. Customers might hear.
"No!" I quickly reply and walk past him, walking to the trash bin to throw the damned card.
"Then, what does that mean?"
"He's clearly teasing me. That's all!"
"Damien Etheridge teasing you? Possible. But Damien Etheridge saying no to sex? I doubt it!"
"Shut up, Ray!"
"I'm just telling the truth. Your brilliant idea worked!"
"Brilliant? It was stupid!" I muttered as I start making coffee for table six.
"Stupid, yeah, but think of the money, Angel. Think of what you can do for your family. It's not like women nowadays stay virgin."
Is he actually trying to send me to Damien's bed?
"If you say one more word about that, Ray, I'm going to cut your tongue."
"Angel, I'm just sayingâ"
"No, Ray! That was a mistake. I'll never let that happen." I know Ray's just concerned about me. He's my best friend. If he says sorry to me now, he's going to have my forgiveness right away.
"Okay, I'm sorry," he gently says.