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Kelsey

I t had been a long night, and I should have turned the app off and never taken the last ride.

Of course, the last ride of the night had been a drunk dickhead, but at least I was getting surge pay for it.

Rent was due next week, and the next Uber deposit would thankfully land in my bank account in time to make the payment.

I had the night off from bartending, and while I usually only drove Uber for early morning airport runs, I was short on my bills this week.

Dad could only help with Crew late at night and early in the morning, and because none of my jobs provided enough income for daycare, I had to work around his schedule.

Tonight, this put me directly in the path of a rider named Sam, who smelled like he’d been marinating in bourbon and might be flammable.

“What took you so long,” he slurred, attempting to get into the front seat of my car, stumbling as his hip jammed the door to my Honda Accord.

“I’m sorry, I don’t allow riders in the front.” That wasn’t entirely true; if I felt safe and the riders didn’t seem like belligerent asswipes, I would allow front passengers. This guy didn’t deserve that courtesy.

He sighed, and I heard him swear under his breath as he slammed the front door and nearly tore the back door off the hinges to enter the back seat. How the hell did this guy have a perfect five-star rating?

He thankfully stayed quiet for the next few minutes until he shouted at his phone, “There’s no pleasing you, you miserable fuck.”

“Are you okay?” I asked nervously, I’d had a few close calls while driving, and so far this guy had done nothing to make me comfortable.

“I’m fine; it’s none of your fucking business.”

This ride couldn’t end soon enough, and as soon as I dropped him off, I was done for the night. My last act of the night would be to one-star this prick’s ass so no one else ended up picking him up late at night.

When I finally pulled up in front of a quaint townhouse in Beacon Hill, I was praying that he wouldn’t vomit before he got out of the vehicle. If I were someone who bets, I’d wager a month’s rent that he was going to spend the night relieving himself of the booze he drank.

He slammed the car door without saying goodbye or thank you, and I drove away as soon as I completed his rating. My car-play chimed with a text message from my father.

Dad: Crew woke up crying. Should I give him a bottle or wait for you?

Me: I’ll be home in fifteen minutes. I’d rather nurse him when I get home.

Dad: Okay. I’ll distract him until you get here.

Me: Thanks..

I had never planned to be a twenty-one-year-old single mother or a college dropout, but here I was. I was living my best life and wondering if OnlyFans was a better option. Uber helped supplement my bartending salary, but it wasn’t a living.

When I got home, Crew was all smiles. He had just started belly laughing within the last week, and I honestly had never heard a more beautiful sound.

About a year ago, I found out I was pregnant with him six weeks after returning from Cancun for a quick end-of-semester vacation.

What I thought would be a no-strings night of fun to get over my recent break-up with a long-term boyfriend ended with two lines on a pregnancy test and no idea who the father was or how to contact him.

His name was Tom, he was from California, and I couldn’t pick him out of a line-up if I tried.

I knew I would need to make a more serious attempt to find him as Crew got older, if for no other reason than to get his medical history.

Would child support relieve the financial strain?

Absolutely, but finding this man would be next to impossible.

Once Crew had fallen back to sleep, I checked my Uber app and noticed that the asshole had left me a $500 tip.

I sighed in frustration. This had to be a drunken mistake, and I was certain it was only a matter of time before the tip was deducted from my pay.

But then I read the note that accompanied it:

Sorry, I was a jerk. I took my bad day out on you. Sam