Peaked in High School

Rock Bottom

Beau's eyes spring open when he feels a ray of sunlight shine through his motel window and onto his face. He grabs for his iPhone 7 to check the time and sees that his alarm was supposed to go off an hour ago.

"Jesus—FUCK!" He yells out in the quiet room as he hurriedly dresses in his one and only navy blue collared shirt before jumping into a pair of slacks and sliding on his shoes. Grabbing his phone and ratty old wallet, Beau then rushes out of the motel and to the bus stop across the street.

Waiting for the bus and the trip itself takes about twenty minutes. By the time he enters the warehouse, puts on his vest and clocks in it's already 8:07 AM.

Slinking his way over to his station, Beau proceeds to use the RF scanner to track inventory while packing orders for customers. He makes it through lunch without interruption. Luckily, it seems that no one has noticed his tardiness.

"Did you get your beauty sleep this morning?"

Fuck. Okay—one person noticed.

"Mind your business, Tiffany," Beau mumbles to his coworker. She is a middle-aged woman who has been working at the warehouse for almost a decade and still has yet to be promoted. Beau would feel bad for her is she wasn't such a kiss-ass.

The middle aged woman tsks at him. "You had to clock in, you know.... Jeffrey always checks the timecards to see if we're completing our full shifts."

Beau decides to ignore her and proceeds to pretend like he is the only one at his station for the last remaining hour of the workday. Tiffany, the know-it-all, seems to have predicted the situation perfectly as Jeffrey makes his way over to the station Beau is currently at. Taking a deep breath, he turns to look at his boss of three weeks.

"Hey, Jeff. How's it going?"

With a disappointed shake of his head, Jeffrey sighs before speaking. "What are you doing, Beau? I was trying to do you a favor by getting you this job, but this is already your third time showing up late in less than a month!"

"Jeffrey, please.... I promise you, it's my alarm. My phone is an old model and it malfunctions sometimes. I can't afford a new one. This job is all I have-" Beau trails off after his desperate rambling of an explanation.

Pushing up his thick framed glasses and pinching his nose in frustration, Jeffrey responds, "My hands are tied this time, Beau. I got called into my bosses' office earlier and I tried to advocate for you. He's not happy with your performance and told me that it's time to let you go. I know you're in a tough situation right now, but there's nothing else I can do. I'm sorry."

Beau smacks both of his hands down on the table in front of him and hangs his head low between his shoulders as he takes deep breaths.

"What am I gonna do?" He asks to no one in particular.

"You need to go back home. I'm sure your mom and brother would be happy to see you," Jeffrey responds in a soft tone full of pity.

Shaking his head, Beau argues, "I can't go back there. They already know that I'm a loser—they don't need to find out that I'm a homeless and jobless loser now too."

"You're not a loser, Beau. You just need some support and I'm sure you'll find a job that you are passionate about eventually. Working in this warehouse isn't what you are meant to do. I'm not sure what it is that you are meant to do, but I have full faith that you'll figure it out."

-

Beau stays at the motel one final night before checking out and using the rest of his cash to buy a Greyhound ticket from Cleveland to Columbus.

After boarding the bus, Beau presses his forehead against the window.

How did he let his life spiral out of control like this?