Silver Lining
I hid in a bathroom stall, hoping to fall apart in privacy.
While I sat on a toilet seat, my breath heaving as the silent sobs shook my body and tightened my chest, I pondered the situation.
It was unfair. I knew that. But when'd life ever been fair to me? Why did I expect it to be fair now? I'd always been a castaway. A foundling at four. A foster child till eighteen. And a homeless person afterwards. It wasn't like I deserved said fairness or anything. I knew how much I'd screwed up. My one-time, biggest screw-up was an unforgivable mistake. A mistake even I couldn't live with.
Wait. Maybe I was the mistake. Maybe I wasn't supposed to exist. Was that why nothing had ever gone right for me? Why nobody wanted me? Because my existence was going against fate? But how come I'd survived all those years if I'd been such an inconvenience to everyone, including my phantom parents who didn't want my company?
The thought of my parents brought a lump to my throat, but I swallowed it down. They didn't want me. And I didn't need them. I could survive without them. End of story.
I guess a part of me was still waiting for a break in the clouds. A silver lining. A tiny, little hope that things would eventually get better. And I'd, somehow, atone for my mistakes and earn a normal life.
But right now, all I could see was blank. I was afraid to imagine a future that didn't exist.
A light knock on the door made me jump out of my reverie.
"Are you okay, chica?" A quiet voice murmured outside the bathroom stall.
I exhaled in relief and wiped my damp eyes, then I pushed myself up and unlocked the door. I stepped out to meet the concerned expression of Lisa, the cleaning lady in Valente's restaurant. A hard-working immigrant, who had half a dozen kids waiting for her to bring food on the table.
"I'm sorry, I overheard," she held her hands over her heart. "So I came to check on you."
Her round face had this look of pity that haunted me all my life, but at least she meant well. It was maternal compassion. I appreciated that.
"I'm okay," I croaked and forced a weak smile for her sake. I knew she was genuinely concerned. Lisa had always been nice to me. Even though she didn't really know me that well. I guessed it was some kind of an unwritten code that survivors stuck together. Or was it her motherly instinct?
Lisa touched my shoulder gently. "I can talk to Mr. Valente. Maybe when he..."
"No, Lisa, don't!" I interrupted, shaking my head rapidly. "Don't get yourself in trouble for me."
"But... I'll miss you." Her plump face fell. "I wish you could stay."
"I'll miss you, too."
I really would. She was one of the few people who made me want to cling to that thin thread of hope. She'd given me a dose of strength to hold on.
Her kind brown eyes glistened. "What are you going to do?"
I shrugged, biting my lip. "Umm, start looking for a job? I don't think I have another option."
Lisa's forehead puckered.
She knew how hard it was to find a job in New York City, with only a high school diploma and almost no skills to begin with. I'd been lucky I got hired here, but now it was all history.
The shelter, well, 'The Transitional Living Program', had given us four clear rules:
Find a job. Keep the job. Stay out of trouble. Don't break curfew.
No job meant no program. No program meant no place for you. If you didn't follow the rules, you were officially out in the streets.
Aging out of foster care wasn't exactly a bed of roses. I'd been trying to practice independence for months. My caseworker used to manage my life for me since I was four. Now, the shelter/program hardly did the same. They taught us some life skills, gave us free meals and a bed at night until we could save up and move out on our own. But they didn't interfere in our decisions. So I was free to screw my life up all I wanted. After all, I was eighteen. An adult, who was supposed to know what to do, right?
Well, there was this little thing, though, that I'd discovered: Adulthood was overrated. Childhood and adolescence as a foster kid weren't so jolly either. So to sum it up? Life sucked. And that wasn't an overstatement. My goal for now was to survive, one day at a time.
"Here, Melody, take this." Lisa shoved her hand into the pocket of her uniform. She pulled a folded piece of pink paper and handed it to me. "I was going to look at it for my Alejandra, but you need it more."
Alejandra was her sixteen year old daughter. Just a couple of years younger than me.
I hesitated before I took the paper from her. "What is this?" I asked. I didn't want to take something she wanted her daughter to have.
Lisa smiled. "Your new job."
Still confused, I began to unfold the paper. It was a simple 'We're Hiring' flyer. There were cute little pink coffee cups in the background of the printed notice. The name of the cafe on top - C.C Cafe - was printed in bold. But when I started reading the details, my eyes grew wider.
WE'RE HIRING!!
We desperately need a Barista, willing to make coffee and friends!
Requirements:
Age: 16- 91 years old.
Species: humans and Kryptonians.
Skills: anything will do. We'll teach you anyways.
Schedule: willing to work overtime, undertime, part-time, pastime, anytime, we're flexible.
Appearance: everyone is beautiful. Just shower and put some clothes on.
Personality: just be yourself.
Experience: none required. I said we'll teach you anyways. :)
P.s. Please hurry up! We're dying of work overload!
My lips curved against my will. I'd never seen anything like that. And I definitely never thought I'd smile today, but it happened.
"You sure this is serious?" I asked Lisa.
"Yes, I know the place. 75th and Broadway." She nodded, eyes smiling. "They're funny, huh?"
"They are!" I was excited to go for the job right away, but then I felt a twinge of guilt for my enthusiasm. "Lisa, I... I don't want to take this chance away from your daughter. I can look for something else."
"Don't be silly." She waved her hand dismissively. "Alex is too young and lazy anyway."
Tears of gratitude stung my eyes.
She eyed me with a soft, motherly look, stroking my arm. "Don't be sad, chica. You're going to be fine."
"Thank you." My voice cracked, holding my tears back. Then I wanted to do something I'd hardly ever done in my life.
I wasn't used to expressing affection. I'd barely felt the need to demonstrate it to anyone, not to mention there had been no one there who'd deserved it, but I wanted to really thank Lisa.
I leaned in awkwardly and hugged her, hoping she didn't mind. Apparently, she didn't.
Lisa wrapped an arm around my shoulders and laughed quietly. "No worries, dear. Don't forget me when you're rich and famous, okay?"
"Never," I said, trying to swallow back my emotions as I embraced her. It was rare, but sometimes, in a moment like this, I wished I had a shoulder to cry on freely, knowing I actually belonged there. And it broke my heart that there was a chance I might not see her again.
Lisa patted me on my back and freed me from her arms. "Now go get your paycheck from that tonto and any bonus you can get your hands on."
"Bonus?" I was feeling so drained, I didn't understand what she was talking about.
"Yes. A free meal, some pastries, anything." Her expression was serious. "He fired you at lunch hour, so take your lunch with you."
"Oh no, I really shouldn't..." I shook my head, eyes wide.
My former boss allowed us to have free meals only on the premises, and only from the food that sells the least instead of throwing it away. The problem was, I no longer worked here. It felt like stealing.
"Don't be a saint, chica!" Lisa half chided. "You can't sue him for his potty mouth, but at least get even. You'll just take back what's yours, nothing wrong with that."
I sighed. "It really doesn't matter, Lisa. I don't want it."
Lisa shook her head and mumbled something in spanish. She placed her hand on my shoulder. "Just wait right here," she said, raising her eyebrows for emphasis.
She didn't give me a chance to protest as she scooted outside the bathroom.
I reluctantly waited for her, biting the tip of my thumb as the words about 'getting even' rang in my head. I felt guilty for considering it. Injustice was nasty, but I didn't have to play vigilante. I wasn't even strong enough for that.
A few minutes passed and I was anxious to leave. I seriously thought about bolting out of the door and never looking back, but I hated to walk out on Lisa.
Just then, Lisa returned with a triumphant smile and a large paper bag in her hand.
"Take it," she commanded, handing me the bag and a small piece of paper. "This is my number on the paper. Call me anytime, okay?" She cupped my face, her lips trembling. "And child, please, do not give up. Everything gets better. Just take care of yourself, okay?"
I couldn't stop the tear that fled from my eye as I nodded and hugged her again.
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro