grateful that he wasn’t paralyzed, but Mom couldn’t afford the mortgage, even with her two jobs as a cashier at Wal-Mart and the local grocery store. I gave them most of my paychecks, and all of Dad’s disability and unemployment went to doctors’ bills.
It was around this time—a few months ago—that I started to become better friends with Gina at work.
***
I expected his house to be bigger, more obvious. But it’s almost similar to the house we lived in before we had to move. Two stories, but medium sized. White siding that reflects back at us as we pull into the driveway. He tells me to wait in the car after he cuts the engine. He walks around to the trunk, his shoes crunching snow as he retrieves my suitcase. I stare at the house, wondering if I made some horrible mistake, but the trunk closes, causing the car to shake slightly, and soon, he’s opened my door.
“Ready?” he asks.
***
“I’m telling you, Casey,” Gina said one day. “This site is amazing.”
We were in the break room. Gina and I had started taking our breaks together. I took a lot of breaks. To be honest, my head couldn’t withstand making copies or stapling and un-stapling papers for more than a few hours at a time without causing major migraines, so I didn’t feel too guilty.
The headaches weren’t anything new. They started during my junior year of high school. The fact that they had gotten worse, sometimes accompanied by nosebleeds had me worried, though. We didn’t have enough money for me to worry about going to the doctor, too, so I dealt with it. If Dad could survive with a broken back, I could do this.
“What’s it called again?” I asked Gina.
“Oh.” She took a sip of her coffee and left a red stain of lipstick around the rim of the mug. “I can’t tell you that.”
I snorted. “Why not?”
“It’s exclusive . Invite only.” She adjusted her turtleneck sweater under her chin. I almost started sweating watching her do it. It was eighty degrees that day. “You need to be invited to get access.”
“Okay,” I said. “So why not just invite me then?”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you joking, Casey?” she asked. “It’s not that easy.”
“Uh,” I said. “Okay.” For something that was so secretive, she sure talked about it a crap-ton.
She looked me over. “You should give me a picture of yourself,” she said. “And your email.”
“Why?”
“I’ll send it to the admin. If they like you enough, they’ll probably give you an invite.”
Our conversation reminded me of high school and how the cool kids never let me sit at their lunch table. If she only wanted to brag about the website and not let me in on it, I didn’t need to press the issue. I excused myself, making something up about having work to get finished.
I got a nosebleed in the bathroom later that day at work. It was the fourth one I got that week. I was sent home early with toilet paper pressed under my upper lip and a headache the whole ride home, but as soon as I got in my room, I emailed Gina my picture and contact information.
***
Jonah leads me into the house, shutting the door behind us and flipping on lights ahead of me. The inside is just as unassuming as the outside. No crystal vase on the dining room table. Just hardwood floors. No plasma screen in the living room. No original artwork. Just plain, white couches, a coffee table, and a desk. The only thing that hints at his wealth is the huge fish tank across from the sofa. I’m not aware that I’m moving toward it until my hand presses against the glass. Bright purple and orange coral sits on the bottom, two large black and yellow striped fish slowly swim past my face. I spot three brown seahorses hanging behind a rock, bobbing with the current the filter is creating.
“Do you like them?” he asks from directly behind me. His coat is off, sitting alongside my suitcase on an arm chair. He’s also rolled up the sleeves of his
It was around this time—a few months ago—that I started to become better friends with Gina at work.
***
I expected his house to be bigger, more obvious. But it’s almost similar to the house we lived in before we had to move. Two stories, but medium sized. White siding that reflects back at us as we pull into the driveway. He tells me to wait in the car after he cuts the engine. He walks around to the trunk, his shoes crunching snow as he retrieves my suitcase. I stare at the house, wondering if I made some horrible mistake, but the trunk closes, causing the car to shake slightly, and soon, he’s opened my door.
“Ready?” he asks.
***
“I’m telling you, Casey,” Gina said one day. “This site is amazing.”
We were in the break room. Gina and I had started taking our breaks together. I took a lot of breaks. To be honest, my head couldn’t withstand making copies or stapling and un-stapling papers for more than a few hours at a time without causing major migraines, so I didn’t feel too guilty.
The headaches weren’t anything new. They started during my junior year of high school. The fact that they had gotten worse, sometimes accompanied by nosebleeds had me worried, though. We didn’t have enough money for me to worry about going to the doctor, too, so I dealt with it. If Dad could survive with a broken back, I could do this.
“What’s it called again?” I asked Gina.
“Oh.” She took a sip of her coffee and left a red stain of lipstick around the rim of the mug. “I can’t tell you that.”
I snorted. “Why not?”
“It’s exclusive . Invite only.” She adjusted her turtleneck sweater under her chin. I almost started sweating watching her do it. It was eighty degrees that day. “You need to be invited to get access.”
“Okay,” I said. “So why not just invite me then?”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you joking, Casey?” she asked. “It’s not that easy.”
“Uh,” I said. “Okay.” For something that was so secretive, she sure talked about it a crap-ton.
She looked me over. “You should give me a picture of yourself,” she said. “And your email.”
“Why?”
“I’ll send it to the admin. If they like you enough, they’ll probably give you an invite.”
Our conversation reminded me of high school and how the cool kids never let me sit at their lunch table. If she only wanted to brag about the website and not let me in on it, I didn’t need to press the issue. I excused myself, making something up about having work to get finished.
I got a nosebleed in the bathroom later that day at work. It was the fourth one I got that week. I was sent home early with toilet paper pressed under my upper lip and a headache the whole ride home, but as soon as I got in my room, I emailed Gina my picture and contact information.
***
Jonah leads me into the house, shutting the door behind us and flipping on lights ahead of me. The inside is just as unassuming as the outside. No crystal vase on the dining room table. Just hardwood floors. No plasma screen in the living room. No original artwork. Just plain, white couches, a coffee table, and a desk. The only thing that hints at his wealth is the huge fish tank across from the sofa. I’m not aware that I’m moving toward it until my hand presses against the glass. Bright purple and orange coral sits on the bottom, two large black and yellow striped fish slowly swim past my face. I spot three brown seahorses hanging behind a rock, bobbing with the current the filter is creating.
“Do you like them?” he asks from directly behind me. His coat is off, sitting alongside my suitcase on an arm chair. He’s also rolled up the sleeves of his
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