There was not much in the fridge that we could cook with, so we simply put some water on the boil and found some dry rice in one of the cabinets. Although we tried to spend money as sparingly as possible, it was nearing the end of the month and our funds were running low, particularly because dad kept spending it on alcohol.
"There is still some tomato-sauce." Oliver held up a can of canned tomatoes. "And some onions."
"Onions, tomatoes and rice it is." I sighed, forcing a smile on my face. It was the same thing almost every day. We knew it wasn't healthy, but there wasn't much we could do about it. In a week's time, both Oliver and I would receive our salary. I couldn't help but feel that it was easier when dad wasn't around: it made it much easier to buy actual food. Immediately, I felt bad for thinking it. Oliver glanced at me, realizing within a second what I had been thinking about.
"I know, Evelyn. It doesn't make you a bad person to think about it," Oliver walked up to me and kissed the top of my head, trying to comfort me.
"It does, though. He is our father." I took a deep breath, shaking slightly and trying to calm myself down. Tears were once again threatening to spill over, but I refused to give into that sadness. We had to get through this and crying won't make it go away.
"Can you put the rice in," I spoke instead, noticing how the water was boiling by now. Oliver gave me one look, before nodding and turning towards the stove. Oliver understood that I wouldn't talk about it if I didn't want to and so he let me be. I took our one -sort of blunt- kitchen knife and started cutting the onion. After a couple of minutes, our make-shift dinner was ready and we sat down on the couch in the living room, as we lacked an actual dinner table. Priorities had to be set. A kitchen table was not one of them. After eating in silence for a couple of minutes, Oliver put down his plate, sighing deeply before his eyes met mine again.
"We got another bill today." He eventually spoke. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the harsh reality of our not having any money. I opened my eyes after a couple of seconds, noticing the tenseness of Oliver's body.
"How much?"
"More than we have." Oliver looked down at his hands. "We have to pay it within a week." Of course we had to pay it just before either of us would receive the money. Perhaps I could ask for some of it to be given in advance. Mrs Johnson wasn't that strict with payments anyway, so I doubt she would mind. When I told Oliver, he shook his head.
"We need the money for our water bill next month, not to mention we haven't had money to buy a decent meal in two weeks. It wouldn't help." I knew he was right. We needed more money, we were always one step behind the bills, having come close to being kicked out of our home several times already.
"Mrs Johnson offered me... some other work." I mentioned, looking down at my lap as I did, realizing full well that Oliver didn't like my being a stripper and would never agree to the work Mrs. Johnson had in mind. Indeed, I could feel his eyes burning on me.
"No."
"Oliver, it would pay well," I reasoned halfheartedly. I didn't want to do it. Truly, I didn't. I had little issue with stripping, sometimes even feeling a slight bit of confidence as I would swirl around the pole. However, the looks of some of the men would sometimes disgust me, but it paid the bills - to some extent at least. It was better paid than any other job I could possibly do as a high school student. Taking it one step further, however... I wasn't sure whether I could do it.
"Look me in the eye and tell me you are okay with selling your body to men thrice your age." Oliver challenged, knowing full well I couldn't do that. "I don't want this for you, Evelyn. I would never sacrifice your own self-worth and happiness for some extra bucks." I looked up at him, smiling slightly, happy that I had a brother who cared, yet worried how else we would get the money.
"You are also not going to work any extra shifts, Eve. You are in your final year, your grades are good enough to get a scholarship for a university. I don't want you to lose out on this chance." He got closer to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "This is your chance to get out. To get a better life." I nodded, knowing he was right. I wanted to get into college. I wanted a way out of this vicious circle of poverty.
"How are we going to pay those bills then?"
"I will find a way. I'll get another job." I didn't like the sound of that. He already worked nearly all day, starting his shift at the post office at 7 am and immediately going to his job at a nearby restaurant at night. "Don't worry about it, Eve. I promise it will all be fine."
I wasn't sure whether I believed him, but one look at the clock also told me I didn't have much time to argue with him. I had to leave for work in a couple of minutes. Oliver squeezed my shoulders in support before he let go off me and I stood up.
"I'll clean up." He said with finality before I could offer. I smiled slightly on my way to my room to pack my bag with the essentials. Oliver felt a huge responsibility to take care of the both of us, taking on that role ever since mum divorced dad, right after he had come back from Afghanistan, when Oliver was 15 and I 12. Mum didn't even really divorce him. She simply left from one day to the next, never even saying goodbye. She left us, even though she knew dad was in no state to take care of us. She left because she couldn't take it anymore. Anger and disappointment boiled inside of me, even after 5 years. I had never truly gotten over it. Apparently, we hadn't been enough to convince her to stay. It was her selfishness that drove her away. Deep down, I knew that, but I also couldn't help but blame myself. Had I been a better child, would she have stayed? I clenched my eyes shut and shook my head to get rid of those thoughts. It didn't matter. She didn't matter. Right now, what mattered was getting myself to my job and earning money. Even though Oliver believed he should carry all the responsibility, I knew he couldn't. We needed each other.