Page 6 of Not On Your Life

Mr. Lawrence and Bri have disappeared, and I race after Maddie, catching her at the elevator.

“Maddie, wait.”

She stops and spins on her heel, turning on me with a look I’d imagine coming from Lord Voldemort.

I’m not brave like Harry. I’m a trembling Ron.

She pinches her red lips. For the better part of the last four years, I looked forward to every color she would wear on those lips, every shade from dark red to almost purple. Today, the angry red is fitting. “You already got me fired. What more could you possibly want?”

“I never meant for you to get fired.”

She tosses her jet-black hair over her shoulder, pinning me to the spot with her coal-dark eyes. “You meant to ruin my life then.”

“No, I…” I shove a hand through my hair. “You know that wasn’t my intent.”

“The only thing I know for certain when it comes to you is that you don’t care about anyone but yourself. People are stepping stools for you to get to the top.”

Her words slice into my skin like a million little shards of glass.

“Well, no one ever accused you of being an angel.” I didn’t mean for that to slip out, but it’s a natural reaction around her. I push, she shoves, and the game continues. It’s addicting and foolish, considering I’m the only one who understands why it began.

Maddie grants me a glare, one I’ve grown familiar with in the last four years then shakes her head. “Congratulations, Connor, you win.” She turns to the elevator then glances at me over her shoulder. “Now who’s the cheater?”

Her comment hits like a punch to the gut. My mouth falls open, but I have no defense. No time for one last appeal. I’ve lost this case.

The elevator opens, and she steps inside. I don’t follow her. Nothing good will come of it.

I turn as the door closes and walk numbly back to my desk. I can practically feel the weight of the world closing in on me, crushing my lungs until I can no longer breathe.

I have to fix this.

My phone rings and I glance at the caller’s I.D.. My sister.

“Hey Millie, I can’t talk right now,” I say. Correction: I don’twantto talk. I can’t even think straight right now.

“Hey, didn’t you pay the property taxes?”

I rub my jaw, my brain trying to focus on something besides the pain in Maddie’s brown eyes. It doesn’t work. The image has been branded into my brain forever. “Yes.” But even as I say it, I’m not sure that’s correct. “Why?”

“We got a new bill in the mail. For three thousand. Is that what you paid?”

“Three thousand?” I clench my eyes shut and bring a fist to my forehead. We can’t afford that. We can’t even afford the mortgage for our parents’ home.

What on earth am I going to do?

“It’s not a big deal. We have time, right? We’ll figure it out,” Millie says. I wish her optimism came with a cash advance.

We need every penny we can get to fill the giant hole left by our parents. Which means…I can’t lose this job. Not for Maddie’s sake, or mine and my sister’s. The pit in my stomach turns into a gaping crater.

“Hey, you okay?”

I swallow the thick lump that has taken up residence in my throat. “Yup.”

“You know, for a lawyer, you’re not very convincing.”

“I just have a headache.”And this conversation isn’t helping.

“My friend Laura was telling me about this magic stuff that’s supposed to help relieve stress and can take away a headache in minutes, I could get you some. She said the guy who sells it works in the back of a laundromat around the corner from the salon, I think.”