October 2000

I adjust my long gray skirt and black button down. I can hear the men at table five taunting me. They've been loud and obnoxious since they showed up. I'm shocked that my manager hasn't kicked them out yet. They are a group of five guy ranging from mid-twenties to early thirties. They came in about twenty minutes ago and of course I just happened to be lucky enough to be their waitress. I turn and one of them is staring at me. He wipes the dark hair out of his face and turns acting like he wasn't looking.

I finish getting their drinks together which mostly it consists of beer, there's only one water. I gather it all on my brown tray and walk back to them. They are talking loudly to each other as I hand them each their drinks. One of them grabs my wrist and I try to pull away.

"Hello Darl'n, when's your shift end?" he questions.

I pull my wrist from his grip and stumble back a bit.

"Touch me again and I'll have you kicked out," I warn.

"Oh, someone is feisty," one of them says.

The guy who'd been staring at me is quiet, too quiet. He laughs with them on occasion, but mostly says nothing. I roll my eyes and walk away. I look down and see that one of the laces on my black converses has come undone. I bend down to tie it and I hear one of them whistling. I turn to give them the finger and the quiet one is staring again. I quickly adjust my shirt hoping he didn't see too much.

I sigh dropping my tray down on the counter. My best friend Katelyn comes over from her table and peeks over to where I'm looking. She rolls her eyes, and pulls the black hair tie from her wrists to pin up her blonde hair.

"Those guys are pigs!" she states.

"Tell me about it," I sigh.

"Ask Roger to switch tables," she suggests.

"Honestly, I'm so used to this shit because of my stepfather it doesn't even phase me anymore," I admit.

My stepfather is the definition of evil and honestly I don't even know why my mom married him. When I first met him he was nice, he'd been living in New York for a short while and met my mom at a bar. That should have been the first strike, but I went with it. Six months later we moved down to Georgia, two weeks later they were married, and I've been here ever since. That was almost three years ago. I hate it, I miss New York. I plan on going back one day, but first I need to save up money.

"You shouldn't have to put up with that shit," she says.

"I know."

"Table five is up," I hear Rob call from the window.

I grab all of their meals and head for the table. They don't seem to care that I can hear everything they are saying. One of them mentions a drug deal, while the other two talk about stealing cars. Figures, I knew they looked like guys that my stepdad would work with. There are always random guys at my house all hours of the night. It gets scary especially when random people start living in our unfinished basement and have full access to everything on the main level.

"Can I get you guys anything else?" I ask, immediately regretting my choice of words.

They all laugh as one that looks like the leader of the pack says, "You can put those sweet lips of yours on my..."

"Don't even finish that sentence," I warn.

"Or what sugar lips?" he whispers.

"Don't you sugar lips me you bastard," I growl getting in his face.

The whole restaurant is silent aside from some dishes clanking around in the kitchen. I know they've all heard me. In the corner of my eye I see Katelyn staring at me with wide eyes. She knows I don't take any shit. I focus my attention back on the short haired asshole who thinks he can talk to me like I'm nothing. His face is serious at first, and then I catch a glimpse of a smirk on his lips. I want to punch him, but I know I should just let it go.

"Hey Merle, eat your steak before it gets cold," the quiet one finally speaks.

I look over at him, he's next to this Merle character. I look between the two of them and then back at Merle. I back off because looking at this guy makes me sick, someone should teach him how to speak to women.

I walk back over to Katelyn, she's got an amused look on her face.

"Chloe," I hear my manager call.

Shit. Busted. I walk around her and over to the kitchen door where he's standing. He's got his arms crossed, and he's leaning against the now closed door. I bite down on my lip hard as I stop in front of him.

"Those guys giving you trouble?" he asks.

"Nah. Just a bunch of redneck assholes is all," I tell him.

"If you were having trouble you should have come to me. We don't tolerate that nonsense from costumers, and we most definitely don't tolerate it from our employees. I should fire you for causing a scene, but I'm going to give you another chance. However; I do think you should go home for the day," he says.

"Roger he was..."

"I know, but we can't have our staff speaking to our customers in that tone. Next time come to me. Now please get your things and head home," he tells me.

"Fine. I have to pick up my brother anyway," I tell him.

"Come back tomorrow night refreshed and ready for work," he warns.

"Roger that," I say.

"S'cuse me?"

"Nothing, I said nothing," I mumble.

I shake my head. I want to punch the wall or something, but I need to keep calm. I clench my fists as I walk to the back to get my things. Katelyn comes over while I am at my locker and puts a hand on my shoulder. I turn and look back at her with a weak smile.

"You're bad ass you do know that right?" she asks.

I chuckle, and slam the locker shut.

"I guess," I finally respond.

"Hey. We still going out with Ethan tomorrow?" she asks.

Ethan is my on again off again boyfriend. I met him and Katelyn my first week here, during junior year of High School. They both befriended me right away and we've been friends since.

"Yeah. Pick me up around noon? I'm dropping Liam off at the sitters around eleven," I tell her.

"Sounds good girl. I better get back out there before Roger decides to send me home too," she jokes.

"Ha ha," I say.

On my way out I check over at table number five and they are gone. I wonder if Roger kicked them out. Their food sits half eaten as one of the workers cleans off the table. I head outside into the parking lot. The October sun beats down on me, it's still warm and will be for a while longer. My blue Toyota sits a few rows back, if I didn't have to pick up my brother I'd take my sweet time walking to it so that I didn't have to go home. One day I'll have enough cash to take my little brother out of this awful situation we are living in, but for now it's a roof over our heads and there's food on the table.

I hear the sound of motorcycles at the back of the lot. They are all parked in different directions and definitely not in the lines. I squint to get a better look and of course its table number five. They sit on their bikes and rev their engines like they are hot shit. I roll my eyes and fight the urge to go over there. Thankfully they leave just before I pull out of the lot.

My brother Liam is eight, and goes to the local elementary school. There aren't many options in this town, but he doesn't mind. Liam is deaf and I worry about him adjusting in a school setting where mostly everyone is hearing. He's actually been student of the month more times than I can count, and his interpreter Brenda is amazing.

I pull up to the small brick building just as the kids start piling out of the school. I park in front and walk in to get him. He waits in the main office every day to avoid the chaotic mess of an elementary school dismissal. I notice him right away, I can see his blonde hair through a sea of kids. He's sitting on a brown chair just outside the main office. Liam looks around and when he spots me his face lights up. I'm really the only constant thing in his life. My mom is useless to be honest. She was a hard working woman when we lived in New York. She taught High School math and held another job on the weekends as a waitress. The minute she married that asshole Travis she began to change. She always had self-esteem issues, but she hit complete rock bottom when we moved to Georgia.

I sign to Liam asking him how his day was. His facial expressions are the cutest, he gets all excited to tell me about school. He tells me about the playground, and the math test that he scored a ninety on. I take his hand and we walk out to the car. He signs to me asking how work was, and I respond with a yawn. He smiles.

The minute we get home I notice that Travis my wicked stepfather isn't home yet. Thank god. I tell Liam to start on his homework and he sticks out his tongue. Our home is on a dead end block, and there are only two other homes on it. We live on a small hill in a blue double wide motor home that was converted into a home.

The house is quiet which for a change is nice. Liam runs off to do homework while I prep the kitchen for dinner. I shouldn't be doing this I should be in college, but I'm not. I chose to work so that I could save up and eventually maybe get custody of Liam and take him back to New York. I want to have plenty of money saved up and the best way to do that is to live under this roof rent free, or I would have been gone after graduation.

I decide to make tacos tonight and pull out the chopped meat from the fridge. I usually buy at least three pounds, because if I don't Travis will complain when his "workers" come over. There hasn't been anyone living downstairs in the past two weeks, but that could change any time. Speaking of Travis I hear his awful sounding pick up coming down the road just as I'm finishing up browning the beef.

The screen door in the living room slam shut and can tell by his footsteps he's drunk. He come stumbling into the kitchen with a smug look on his face.

"Hello Darl'n," he says.

"Travis," I mumble.

"Smells good in here," he comments.

He comes up behind me a little too close for comfort, but doesn't go any further. I can smell his beer breath on my neck and I hate when he watches over me. He's never laid a hand on me and I don't think he ever will. I've had some of his "workers" try and touch me and it never ends well for them. He respects me in that way at least.

"I have new tenants coming over in ten. Make sure there's enough for them," he says.

"I made three pounds, should be plenty. Although Liam could probably eat all of it on his own," I say.

He stumbles away and chuckles under his breath. He opens up the beat up old fridge and pulls out another beer. I hear him go inside probably to go see my mother. She stays in bed most of the day smoking cigarettes and drinking wine. Some days she comes out of her room, mostly I hear her throwing up or hacking up a lung. She's sick and refuses to see a doctor. I wish we could go back to before we moved to this little unknown town in the middle of nowhere. I hear the sound of motorcycles just up the street and pray to god that my stepfather's guests aren't the guys from table five.