A/N: Hello everyone! Here's the next chapter. Thank you for the reviews! I really hope you are enjoying this as much as I am enjoying writing it.
3.
After finally getting to take a shower, I sat on the edge of my tub and soaked my feet. The suds were sitting on the top of the water, slowly fading away into the cooling water. Joey's concerned eyes floated through my mind. Each time they did, I took a sip from the Mr. Boston's bottle I had retrieved from under the sink. It was bottom shelf vodka, not getting me as drunk as the better stuff would. It did the trick after about half the bottle. I was in a happy tipsy place, that warm swimming feeling coming over me. It would be mostly gone by the time I decide to head back to Glenmore. I didn't have to be back for another two hours. This gave me plenty of time to ebb down the drunk feeling.
Gazing down at my legs, I saw the old familiar scar the circled my right knee. I glared at it for a moment, remember the day I got it very well. I had aced both of my routines during the qualifying rounds at the Pan Globals, a competition that the best of the Olympic hopefuls attended. It gave top athletes a chance to network and to show off their skills. I was on fire, scoring near perfect scores on each go. My coach, Coach Schmidt, had even mentioned that the gymnastic councils for the US team were already asking him about me. This was it. This was my sure-fire ticket to achieving my dreams. I would be heading home to Angel Grove, and Tommy, with a gold medal.
Fate has a funny way of fucking with people. I was almost done with my routine during the finals. All I had left was a perfect dismount, something I had done a thousand times leading up to that day. I knew as soon as I flipped off the balance beam that something was wrong. When I landed, a sharp pain went right up my leg, starting at my knee. I managed to keep my composure for the scores but the moment I went to step of the matt, I collapsed. Back at our tent, the doctors were convinced I had just torn a muscle or something. I placed first at the Pan Globals, Ellen Diaz from the Olympic team promising to call me about trying out for her team.
The next day, I saw a specialist who informed me that I had dislocated my knee cap. I would require surgery to fix it. He swore it would be an invasive surgery but one I would recover from nicely. Well, that was a big fat lie. While under the knife, he discovered I had also torn every ligament in my knee. There was too much damage to fix completely. He fixed what he could, allowing me to be able to walk again. I would never be able to perform gymnastics again, though. The damage to my knee was too risky. One wrong fall or landing and I would blow my entire knee out. He wouldn't approve me for knee replacement surgery either due to my age. He basically told me to deal with it and move on with my life. Something a seventeen year totally wants to hear after giving up their entire life to move down here for something.
Drying off my feet, I set them on the floor and stood. Steading myself on the sink, I allowed myself to look in the mirror. The years hadn't been the rough to me, I suppose. My brown hair was still the color of caramel, though it was in desperate need of a cut. My eyes were the same brown as well, a bit duller than they were when I was younger. There were small crow's feet in the corners of my eyes and lines in the corners of my mouth. The normal things a twenty-eight-year-old would experience. I sometimes wonder what would happen if I strolled into Angel Grove right now. Would anyone be there is recognize me? Would anyone recognize me? Not that it mattered now. All the people I cared about had gone elsewhere from what I heard through the grapevine.
I tossed the bottle under the sink, kicking the door shut with my big toe. Changing into a pair of dark skinny jeans and a black tank top covered in glitter, I straightened my hair and put on a light layer of makeup. It was Wednesday. That's college night. Joey offered a special to any kid with a college ID over the age of 21. It was one of our busiest nights. I often made a lot of tips on these nights, especially when I dress up like I'm younger. The kids buy we drinks and try their best to pick me up. I've let a couple of them, needing the company in my small apartment. I don't like to though. They tend to be the ones who want something more the next day. That's just something I'm not in the market for. I haven't dated anyone since I came to Florida and I like it that way.
Walking towards my living room, I grabbed my black sandals from the hallway. I slid them on to my feet, clasping them so they were secure. Out the window, I noticed Marcus and his mother walking their dogs up the street. He had a protective arm around her shoulders, and she was smiling. Glancing at the clock, I knew Hank would be arriving to pick me up shortly. I grabbed my purse and walked out the front door, making sure to lock it behind me. Mrs. Santiago looked up when she heard my door and she wave. "Kimberly! How are you?" Her thick Spanish accent called. I couldn't help but smile when she smiled at me. The woman was contagious.
"Hello. I'm good. How are you two?" I asked, stopping in front of the pair. You can tell just by looking at them that they were mother and son. Both had black hair, Marcus's cut short compared to Mrs. Santiago's long hair she always kept braided. I would guess she was about forty, her face more worn that a younger woman would be. She had soft green eyes that were always kind unless she needed to yell at her son or the other boys. Marcus has the same eyes, his brighter that his mother. Their dogs, a pair of pit bulls named Sugar and Spice, were the sweetest things that I've ever seen. Both wiggle in excitement until I ran my fingers over the tops of their heads.
"We're okay. Marcus is waiting to find out if he passed all his exams or not." She said, sounding proud. "He better have or else I will whip his butt."
"Oh, Mama. I told you I studied so hard. I'm sure I did okay." He said, looking embarrassed.
"He's a smart kid, Maria. I'm sure he did just fine." I said, giving him a wink.
"Thank you, Miss Kimberly. Do you need me to mow your lawn tomorrow?" Marcus asked, gesturing towards the tiny patch of grass the was in front of my porch. It was getting a bit high.
"Sure. Here." I reached into my purse and pulled my wallet out. Fishing out a twenty-dollar bill, I held it out to him.
"No. Keep your money. It's fine." Marcus said, shaking his head. I let out a chuckle.
"You're either going to take this money or I'm going to feed it to your dogs." He glanced from me to his mom before taking the money. "Use it for gas or whatever. It's the least I can do."
"Thank you, ma'am." He said, tucking it in his jeans.
"Don't call me that." I said, pointing a finger at him. "Makes me feel like a dinosaur."
"Well, if you're a dinosaur, I must be an ancient relic." Maria said, winking at me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Hank's gold colored minivan heading my way. The dark-skinned man waved at Maria and Marcus out the window as he parked along the curb. "Hello, Hank!" Maria called out. I smirked, trying to hide it as I glanced at Marcus. We both knew she was sweet on Hank. And I knew he totally had a thing for her as well. It was something I noticed when Hank came over to fix my sink not long after Joey hired me. Maria had stopped by to give me some leftovers she had and the two hit it off really well. They would be an adorable couple in my eyes. Hey, just because love isn't my thing doesn't mean that I can't hope others find it.
"Hello, Maria. Hi, Marcus." Hank said, opening the door and standing. He leaned his elbows on the top of his car and smiled widely at us. Hank lost his hair about twenty years ago, the sun reflecting off the top of his bald head. He had a kind smile and a greying goatee that made him look handsome for a guy heading towards sixty. He wore his usual black t-shirt that said security across the chest, and I knew his baseball cap was probably on the dashboard. I have a suspicion that Hank was either a cop or some type of military training just from the way he holds himself. He was a built guy, one that drunk guys typically do not want to fuck with. Joey did good when he hired him.
"You keep our girl safe tonight, okay?" Maria said, rubbing a hand up my arm. "Or else."
"Of course. That's why Joe pays me the big bucks." He flashed his teeth with a wide smile that I recognized as flirting.
"Something like that." I spoke. Leaning down, I gave Maria a quick hug and waved at Marcus. "Have a good night."
"You too, dear." Maria said as I walked over to the passenger side door. I pulled it open, climbing in as Hank said his farewells. Someday, the two of them will realize what's right in front of their faces.
"What a woman." Hank said, sliding into his seat and shutting the door. His hat was on the dash board like I had figured, and he pulled it on before pulling away from the curb.
"You should tell her that." I suggested. He let out a deep laugh, taking the same route that Joey had taken earlier.
"And you should take up comedy."
"And give up this lavish lifestyle? Please." I shot him a wink and he nodded.
"Just remember if you ever get discovered that you promised me a job on your security detail. I can whip any creep's ass before he can even think about getting close to you."
"I believe that." I replied. The fuzzy feeling from the vodka was gone now, a slight headache lingering at the back of my skull. Nothing a few shots at the bar wouldn't cure. Hank turned the radio up, listening to some news talk station. They were discussing the monster attack in California earlier last week, speaking about the amount of damage and the lives lost. My ears perked up when they mentioned the lack of activity since then on both the monster and Ranger front. I wondered what could have happened to make both go radio silent. Perhaps the Rangers had finally defeated their foe. Or both were just laying low to rebuild their resources. Regardless, I was glad to be 3,000 miles away from any of it.
"Evening, girls!" Paul Segman said as he slid into his typical stool at the bar. He was a skinny older man with white hair and a beard to match. He was a kind man who was a retired teacher. He had spent thirty-five years working for the science department at the local high school. After retiring a couple years ago, he spends most nights here with us. Shaking off his polyester suit coat, he hung it over the back of the stool and placed a twenty on top of the bar. Sandra, the fiery red head standing next to me, set a bottle of cheap beer in front of him. He reached over and grabbed a menu and a bowl of salted peanuts. He took a gander at the menu while popping a few peanuts in his mouth.
"What'll it be tonight, Paul? Al has a killer sauce for the wings. He let me try it earlier." I said, cleaning out the glass I was holding.
"Hmm…I'm not sure about that one. The heart burn that man gives me will be the death of me some day. I think I'll stick to Rueben. That's never treated me wrong." He closed the menu and set it back in its holder at the end of the bar. I wrote down his order on the pad in front of me, ensuring to add the order of onion rings he didn't need to ask for. He orders the same thing every Wednesday. You could set a clock by Paul and his actions.
"I'll put this right in." I ripped the sheet off the pad and walked towards the window around the corner that led to the kitchen. I spotted Al standing over the deep fryer, trying to get ahead on the wing orders no doubt. Al was a very round man who, like Hank, lacked any hair on the top of his head. And even though he only worked in a bar kitchen, he took his job seriously. He sports a chef's coat and kept the kitchen spotless. It would be safe to say the floor is almost clean enough to eat off of. He went to school for culinary, almost finishing his degree. His wife became sick though, forcing him to drop out. She's alright now but too much time has passed for him to go back, or so he says. His story is similar to Sandra. She was going to school to be a beautician when she found out she was pregnant. She was forced to take a job to support her son. Instead of going back, she focused on raising him the best she could. She's married then and has a daughter as well but mentions now and then that she wishes she could have finished. As you can tell, we're a bunch of outcasts here. It's something I take as a sanctuary. This is where I feel as home, more so than my actual house.
"Paul?" Al asked, eyeing my ticket. I nodded, putting it on the window ledge. Al sighed. "I already started his onion rings. I thought I saw him come through the door."
"Like clockwork. I'll be back in ten." He waved his spatula at me as I turned away from the window. Back behind the bar, I saw that there were more college aged kids sitting in the middle of the room than when I had left. Sandra was filling plastic cups with tap beer, placing them on a tray.
"Have I mentioned how much I hate college night?" She muttered, glancing at me as she filled another. "Joe better hope that ID scanner he has Hank using actually works. Half those boys look like they are in the 7th grade if they're lucky."
"And they'll get the drunkest." I replied, getting a nod from her. I eyed the group, wondering which one would be the best to bring home tonight. In my chest, I felt that familiar tug of loneliness I was so good at running from. It had been a while. Maybe there was a boy there that was slightly broken. It was just what I needed tonight.
"Better keep an eye on the clock. You're up in twenty." She said, scooping the tray up and heading around the bar to deliver the drinks. I kept an eye on her as she left, grabbing a plastic cup from under the bar. Once her back was turned, I poured some vodka into it. I caught Paul looking at me from over a slightly ripped copy of To Kill A Mockingbird. I never understood why the man comes here to read. It's loud. It's dark when I'm on stage. I raised an eyebrow at him as I put a splash of cranberry juice in the cup too.
"I thought you were a science teacher." I said, taking a sip from the glass. I hated putting the juice in it. All it did was slow down its effect.
"I was. But you have to honor those classics." He said, holding up the novel. "This was my wife's favorite book."
"I read it in high school. It was one of the better ones they made us read." I responded as I spotted Sandra heading back towards the bar.
"Most of the morals fall on the deaf ears of babes." Paul said, giving me a wink before turning back to his book. I downed the rest of my drink before Sandra made it back behind the bar. I toss the cup into the garbage, making it look like I was just cleaning the bar top.
"I guess those boys aren't too bad tonight." She said, holding up a twenty-dollar bill between her fingers.
"That's what they tipped you?!" I exclaimed. She nodded, tucking it into her apron. "They aren't even drunk yet. I think tonight is going to be a good night after all."
"I think so too. Wanna take a shot before you go on stage for good luck?" She smiled, grabbing two shot glasses from under the bar. I nodded and she set them on the wood. Thinking, she regarded the bottles behind us for a moment. Standing on her tippy toes, she grabbed the most expensive bottle of tequila on the shelf. "I think this will do the trick." She winked, pulling the lid off. She poured the shots, sliding one towards me. I gripped the little glass between my fingers as she did the same. Lifting it, we clinked the glasses before downing the tequila in one gulp. She shivered from the burn, but it did nothing to me. It tasted good, unlike cheaper kinds. It was smooth and felt warm as it hit my belly. That was something I needed more of alright.
