One Word

Chapter 3

I sighed, throwing my things down on my bed when I got home and I quickly changed into my bartending uniform. Not really a conventional job for a 17-year-old girl but I had to make money somehow. It takes me 15 minutes to drive to and from school, and 25 minutes to walk from my house to the bar. I used to take my beloved car there, but last time I did, I had ended up with slashed tires and I had barely scraped enough money to fix them.

I always covered myself with a loose cardigan of some sort when I walked to work because of my uniform.

It's what you would expect men in a bar to put women into; a short skirt with a tight top. I'd always felt highly exposed while wearing it and desperately wanted a job somewhere else, but I couldn't find one. Not when everyone knows what had happened and I didn't have any references for my resume.

So I was stuck here. The only comfort I found was in my co-worker behind the bar who was in his mid-twenties.

He didn't judge me.

"Hey Sam," I said, throwing my work bag down on the floor. The bar was already beginning to fill up and I immediately got to work pulling out shot glasses and prepping salts.

"Hey, kiddo. Anything new in your life?" He turned towards me with a smile. I shrugged.

"Not really. Some people want to be my friends but I'm not sure about that. What about you?" I raised an eyebrow at him as a pink flush went over his cheeks. "Please tell me you are going to propose." Sam had a lovely partner of 4 years who I saw quite often because those two were so in love, they hated being away from each other for too long. A little unhealthy, but cute.

Sam began stuttering and turned even redder. "I'm going to, kid, promise. I just need to make sure Will and I have everything figured out." I grinned at him and nudged him with my elbow.

"Okay. But do it soon, the suspense is killing me!" I paused before grinning up at him. Sam stood almost a foot taller than me. "And I call being the Best Maid!" I teased.

He chuckled and ruffled my hair. "Sure thing kiddo."

"Hey! Three shots please!" A voice called, and my little moment of happiness had been burst. I quickly grabbed three shot glasses in one hand and expertly poured them out before sliding them over to the guy who called for them.

I quickly took note of the regular and put them on his tab, along with some more drinks I knew he would order before preparing them and giving them to him.

"Thanks, Lil, you always know what a guy needs." He finished his words off with a wink and toothy smile and I turned away, trying to shake the feeling of bugs crawling on me. These people weren't all bad, but some were creepy.

After working for another few hours, it was around 11 pm when I saw another familiar face walk in.

I froze at the state he was in before grabbing one of his favorite pick me ups and rushing over.

"Hey, John. What's up?" I questioned, my voice soft and comforting.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm divorcing her," he muttered. His voice sounded so broken and I couldn't help but fall into the chair next to him and comfortingly rub his back. John was a 38-year-old man who was easily one of the kindest people I've met, but had been dealt a rough hand. He had three kids with this woman when suddenly she decided she wanted an old rich guy to date, and John had the misfortune of walking in on them one day when he got home early from work to surprise his wife and kids.

I felt horrible for him. I couldn't even begin to imagine that happening to me.

"It'll be okay," I soothed. I handed him the drink and he gratefully took it, drinking almost all of it in one gulp, and I tried to not show my shock.