My Personal Hell by D. Richardson (tharntype novel english .txt) 📖

know I’m in the club, but they think it’s just a way to pad my collage application. They don’t know I’m the president, and I don’t want them to. They’ll make me quit.”

“Why would they do that?” I asked incredulously.

“Because, if they knew they’d say I was too invested in it. That I’m not leaving my options open.”

“Do you want to leave your options open?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like drawing is going to be my career or anything. But I love it, and I don’t want to stop.”

“Then don’t,” I answered simply, but the look of suspicion she gave me made me wonder if she believed my words or not. “I saw your picture the other day. It was really good. That takes talent. I would hate to see you give up something you love so much.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and then turned and walked away.

Chapter 18

A few nights later I was busing tables, waiting for closing time so I could go home and sleep. I had had a gruesome training session earlier in the day, and Bastion kicked my ass all over the floor. Fortunately, I managed to give him a black eye in the process so it wasn’t a complete loss.

Jake and the rest of our group had left an hour ago, so the sound system was playing a CD, instead of having a live band. One of my favorite songs started to play and I sang along, not really paying any attention. That is until one of my customers leaned over and slipped some money into one of the pockets on my apron. I pulled out a ten dollar bill.

The customer in question had already made his way up to the bar, probably to pay his tab. So I approached him with the ten in my hand.

“Excuse me.” He turned to look at me and I tried to hand him the money back. “I think you gave me this by mistake.”

“No I didn’t.”

“This is a ten dollar bill.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you give it to me? Were you wanting me to bring you another round?”

“No, I’m actually about to head out.”

“Are you being frustrating because you think it’s fun?” I asked, trying to keep my tone even. He apparently thought it was a great joke, because he threw his head back and laughed.

“I like you. No I gave it to you because you’ve got a good voice.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I heard you singing next to my table. You’re good, so I thought I’d give a little extra for the entertainment.” I didn’t know what to say. I should have said thank you, but that didn’t occur to me until he had already walked away.

I stood there like an idiot for a few moments. Long enough for my boss, Rob, to lean against the counter and give me the eye. You know, the one that says they have an idea, and you probably won’t like it.

“What?” I asked, not really sure I wanted the answer.

“How would you like to perform nightly?” A half grin made it’s way onto his face, as though he liked the idea more and more as he thought about it.

“I’m a waitress,” I tried to say it like it was the end of the discussion, but he started talking before I could finish walking away.

“You could be both.” I turned back to him.

“I don’t want to steal Jake’s stage time.”

“You wouldn’t be. He’s looking for a lead singer.” That much I actually knew, he had even asked me if I was interested a couple of times. “You could wait tables and sing a few songs while you bus them.”

“It would get too complicated. How am I supposed to take orders if I can’t hear the customers?”

“You’d figure it out. Look, just give it a chance. Get with Jake, rehearse a few songs, and then next week we can give it a trial run.” It was clear that I was indecisive, so he sweetened the pot a little, so to speak. “How much you make a night in tips? About a hundred?”

“Something like that,” I answered cautiously.

“I’d bet you’d get several other customers like that man. Willing to double or even triple what they would normally leave.” I took a deep breath, trying and failing to get my heartbeat under control.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Great, we’ll hold the trail run next Friday.” I shot him an incredulous look, but he had already left, heading into the kitchen.

I talked to Jake the next day and his excitement almost made me cringe. But after dance practice I decided to go over to his house. I didn’t have combat lessons and I didn’t have to be at work for a couple of hours. That’s how I ended up meeting his mom.

I had never met anyone so sweet in my life. She practically gave me cavities. Literally, she offered me homemade cookies, muffins, cupcakes, fudge. It looked like she spent all day baking just in case someone came over so she could pawn it all off on them. Or fatten them up for cooking, but I decided not to continue down that line of thought.

“Here you go, Hun,” Beatrice Wilt said, as she set a glass of milk down in front of me to go along with the chocolate cookies. Her light blue eyes shone brightly as she smiled down at me. Her face was mostly wrinkle free but I could see the beginnings of grey at the temples of her dark brown hair.

“Thank you, Mrs. Wilt,” I murmured as I started to pull a cookie apart.

“Oh, call me Trish, please.” I nodded as I nibbled on the impossible sweet pastry. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t like milk, so I just left it sitting there.

She spent the next couple of minutes asking me questions. Like how school was going, and if Jake was being a good friend to me. She never even mentioned Christine. Or her husband for that matter. But I didn’t have the chance to ask her any of my own questions.

“Hey, Mom, I’m expecting…,” I heard Jake said from the hallway, he cut off as he reached the door way. “Oh, you’re here.”

“Yeah, I’m just enjoying a couple of your Mom’s cookies,” I answered with a smirk. He returned my smile then gestured down the hall.

“If you’re ready you can come down to the basement with me.” I nodded, smiled my thanks to Trish and followed him.

“I’m sorry about my mom. She thinks she has to fill everyone who visits with sugar,” he apologized as we made our way down stairs.

“I thought she was nice. And those cookies are really good.” He looked at me like he truly appreciated my words. Then we came in sight of Jane, Vicky, and Seth.

A couple of hours later we were halfway through the last song when we were interrupted.

“What the hell is she doing here?” We all looked at the stairs to see Christine leaning over the banister.

“We’re practicing, what do you want?” Jake asked, but she only rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, freaks,” she mumbled before she turned around to leave. We were about to start over when she came running back down. “Dad’s home,” her eyes were wide, the fear was evident, even before Jake swore under his breath and ushered all of us out of the basement door.

Jane, Vicky, and Seth all walked out like this was normal. I looked to Jake, hoping he would tell me what was wrong, but he just promised to tell me later and closed the door. I guess that explained why they wanted me to park a couple of blocks down the street. The others gave me a parting wave, and I headed off to work.

At school the next day I tried to ask Jake what was going on. But he just said that his dad didn’t approve of his band, and wouldn’t say anything else. So I let it drop. Not wanting to push in case he distanced himself.

After the last class ended I went out the back door to get to the parking lot quicker. But I paused because the cheerleading squad was having practice. I watched as they did twists and turns in the air to music. Their dance routine looked like it needed a bit of work, but their stunts were amazing. And it gave me an idea.

So I cornered Stacey the following morning. She wasn’t thrilled about my plan, but she agreed that it had possibilities. The only down fall was that in order for it to work we needed the squad’s cooperation. And she said that since it was my brilliant idea I had to be the one to talk Christine into it. I groaned, but then turned on my heel in search of the bottle blonde.

I found her, all I had to do was follow the strongest of male hormones. And sure enough she was standing in a circle of football players. Having an audience really did not sound even remotely appealing, so I waited. After the first bell rang the crowd dispersed, and she was left alone to gather her things.

That’s when I made my move, leaning against the locker next to her, waiting for her to notice me. When she finally did she jolted slightly, I suppose to her I had made a miraculous appearance. Something for me to chuckle at later.

“What do you want?” she snapped, grabbing her last book before slamming her locker shut.

“A deal.”

“There is nothing you have that I want,” she moved to brush passed me, but I stepped to the side, blocking her path.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” She let out a sigh as the second bell rang and we were both officially late for class.

“You’ve already ruined my chances with Asher, and commandeered my brother. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” The exasperation in her voice stalled me for a moment.

As far as I knew Christine and Jake weren’t close, and haven’t been since the onset of puberty. Asher had already told me that they both knew that the whole thing was temporary. I had no idea what she was talking about. But this wasn’t the time, so I shook my head slightly, realizing that I had been staring at her.

“Look, this isn’t about us, or Asher, or Jake. This is about cheerleading and the dance team.”

“What about it?”

“You know the assembly that’s coming up in a couple weeks?”

“Of course, the squad always performs at the assemblies.”

“So does the dance team.” She rolled her eyes, but I kept going. “I saw your practice yesterday. Your stunts are amazing,” She actually flipped her hair with pride, this time I rolled my eyes. “but your dancing needs some work. We’ve got the dancing but our stunts need some improvement.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point, is that we can help each other out,” I expected her to brush me off and tell me go stuff myself. But to my surprise, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What do you mean?”

“You help us with our stunts and we’ll help you get your routines together. And we combine for the assembly”

“You mean the squad and the team perform…,”

“Together, yes,” I finished for her. “For one amazing routine.” She fiddled with her bag for a