Page 4

Swinging the door open, I step inside what was supposed to be a restaurant.

It’s a small dive bar.

“What are you doing in here?” The scruffy, bald-headed bartender grunts as he sets a bottle of beer in front of a man that’s slumped over the counter.

‘You’re a badass, Sarah. Don’t let this place intimidate you.’

I tense at the faint whisper of Xander’s voice.

“Well?” the bartender barks in annoyance.

Steeling my shoulders, I lift my chin. “I’m here for a job.”

His thick brows furrow and his eyes travel down my body.

“You’re too young for this place, kid. Get out.” He whips the dirty rag off his shoulders and begins whipping down the bar top.

“I’m twenty-one,” I lie, and he pauses.

“I might be getting old, but I ain’t stupid,” he says, flicking his chin toward the door. “I won’t tell you again.”

“Come on, man,” I whine. “I really need a job. I’ll even come during the day and clean the place.”

Lord knows it needs a good douching.

He glances at the slouched man before looking back at me. His eyes narrow to slits and he purses his lips.

“Tell you what,” he says after a tense moment of silence.

Excitement rises in me as I wait for his answer. I try to mask it, but I really need this job to help get me and Paige out of the shelter.

“Come in tomorrow morning at ten and clean this place up real good before we open at four, and the job is yours.”

I squeal and do a happy dance before I freeze and meet his unamused stare.

“Sorry,” I say, sheepishly. “I really appreciate this. See you tomorrow!” I shout over my shoulder before spinning on my heels and dashing out the door.

* * *

“You’re going to work at the school?” I ask Paige as soon as I finish telling her about the bar.

“Yeah.” She smiles shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

I study her for a moment, taking in her timid appearance.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but how do you plan to interact with people in the office? You can barely talk to me and we’re best friends.”

She side-eyes me. “We’ve known each other for like a week, Sarah.”

I sling my arm over her shoulder and pull her into my side. “Exactly. We’re two peas in a pod at this point.” I beam.

She snorts and pushes away from me. “I think it’ll be nice.”

I knock my shoulder into hers and smile softly when she meets my eyes. “I think you’ll do great.”

“Thanks,” she whispers, her light-green eyes full of warmth.

“Are you hungry? I found twenty bucks on the subway. Let’s go get some food.”

I don’t bother giving her a chance to reply before I’m taking her hand in mine and pulling her toward the building’s exit.

We walk along the sidewalk until we find Frankie – the hotdog stand owner – on the corner. I swear he serves the best hotdogs in Brooklyn.

“Hey, Frankie!” I greet with a wide smile which he returns.

“Sarah! Paige! I was wondering why I haven’t seen you ladies in a few days.” He starts preparing our hotdogs.

I shrug before replying, “You know us, Frankie. People to see, things to do.”

He chuckles because he knows I’m full of shit.

“Well, it’s good to see you.” He hands us our food as I hand him the twenty. After grabbing each of us a can of soda, he retrieves my change and places it in my palm. “Don’t be strangers.”

“We’ll try not to.” I wink.

Paige remains quiet, as usual, during the entire exchange aside from a quiet ‘thank you’ when she took the hotdog from him.

Stepping away, we turn and make our way back to the shelter with our meal.

* * *

I knock on the door of the bar before sliding my hands into the pockets of my hoodie and rock back and forth on my heels.

I step back when the door swings open revealing the bartender from yesterday. He jerks his chin motioning for me to enter.

I discreetly scrunch my nose when I take in the place. It looks worse than it did last night and smells of stale alcohol and something I’m scared to name.

“Follow me.” He grunts and makes his way through a door with a sign that says Employees Only.

“So… I don’t know your name. I should probably know that information before we get this little party started.”

He looks over his shoulder. “Call me Bones.”

“Ooo, Bones, huh? Are you some kind of biker or part of a gang? Oh! Are you in the mafia?!” my voice rises several octaves.

He lets out an annoyed sigh before stopping and turning to face me. “Don’t worry about why my name is Bones. You’re just here to clean.”

“Oh, come on. Give me something .”

He ignores me as he pulls the cleaning supplies from the shelf and sets them on the table in the center of the room.

“Do you not have bleach?” I ask before I can filter the thought.

He pauses and scowls at me.

“Hey, I’m trying to clean up the place. Bleach is needed.” I shrug and stare innocently at him.

“Jesus fuck,” he mutters and I smirk.

“It’s under the sink.” He motions behind me.

Spinning, I open the lower cabinet and pull out the gallon of bleach.

“Perfect,” I say, nodding once.

Definitely going to need more, I think to myself.

He goes through the motions of telling me what he wants me to do around the building before leaving me to my own devices.

A few hours and a gallon of bleach later, I’ve cleaned the place as best as humanly possible. Which was still not enough to make this place less gross.

Taking the cleaning supplies, I return them to the back room and into the cabinets. Once finished, I make my way to the front.

“Done!” I cheer when I see Bones setting glasses into the shelves above the bar.

Pausing, he peers over his shoulder. “Saw that,” he answers.

“So, do I get to keep coming back?” I ask, swinging my arms back and forth.

He spins and sets his palms onto the bar top and analyzes the bar. The smell of stale beer has been replaced with bleach, sticky floors have been mopped until my arms hurt, and the tables squeaky clean. I’m very proud of what I’ve done with the place.

The corner of his lip twitches before it drops, and he turns his gaze to me. “Yeah. I’ll get the paperwork ready, and you can fill it out tomorrow.”

“Yes!” I pump my fist and round the bar.

Bones stiffens when I wrap my arms around his middle and squeeze him. “Thank you!”

He clears his throat and then lightly pats my back before pressing my shoulders, forcing me to let go.

“Get out of here.” He gestures to the door. “I’ve gotta get the place ready for opening.”

I smile up at him and head out with hopefulness growing in my heart.

Paige and I will be okay.