Rough Night

The night shift was long, stretched even longer by how incredibly busy the store was. After only a couple hours of training, I was put on gift wrapping duty, as every type of person came for their shopping at the soulless corporation I was employed with now. There were a few kind people sprinkled in between, complimenting the wrapping job or saying nice things, but more were just impatient, snatching their gifts back when I offered them. Then a few more were downright belligerent, either looking for a discount or for someone to bully. I was a prime target for both, and by the end of the night I felt more exhausted than I'd felt before. The manager that I'd started with during the beginning of my shift was a good instructor, however, and she made sure I wasn't overwhelmed. When she went home, another manager came on shift, but I didn't see her anywhere until the store closed down.

I saw headlights pull up outside the door as they were locking for the night, and I knew it was my ride. I shivered at the thought, and turned to the manager that had come in for her own night shift.

"My ride's here," I said. "Do I need to do anything special to clock out?"

"You're not done," she snapped. "The fitting rooms have to be recovered, and we need to count your till for the night checking for variances."

"But, I was only scheduled until 11," I protested.

"Do you want to work here or not?" She asked, peeved. "If you want to continue to work here, go to the women's fitting rooms and recover all the clothes, while I count your till."

I waved to my stepmother out the window, and she threw her hands up at me. I gestured that I couldn't leave, and watched with a lump in my throat as she backed up then peeled off.

"Find your own ride home," came the text a few moments later. Great. Now even if I walked, or got a ride, I'd be accused of going out whoring, complete with more beatings. I bit my lip, fighting tears.

"FITTING ROOM!" bellowed the night manager across the store. I ran towards them as quickly as I could with my hurt knee.

It was close to twelve thirty by the time I had gotten all the clothes back on hangars, sorted, and put away properly. I went back to my register to find the night manager just now starting to count out the till, which took another twenty minutes.

One am. I'm toast, I kept repeating in my head. He's going to kill me, I'm going to be absolutely slaughtered.

"Your shift starts at 10am tomorrow," said the night manager on my way out the door; Jessi. I liked the other one better.

"Yes ma'am, I'll see you then, Ms. Jessi," I answered.

"No you won't," she replied, and shut the door, locking me out.

It's freezing, I'm absolutely freezing. My sweater and jacket weren't enough, and aside from the christmas lights decorating the store fronts, the street was really dark. I felt a ball of anxiety start to tighten inside me as I walked away from the store.

I tried to keep my head up, but it was like fighting against myself with how much I wanted to curl into a ball to keep warm. I came to the first street crossing, and looked carefully; no cars or pedestrians in sight. I sure didn't want to hurt my other knee.

As I was crossing, I heard a car's engine in the distance. I sped my pace up as best I could, and reached the sidewalk on the other side before it passed through the intersection, the sound fading slowly in the crisp, cold air.

Crap. She had said 10am, didn't she? That wasn't going to work- I had my other job in the morning. I glanced at my smartphone. I had to be at work in precisely six hours. I prayed that both my parents would be passed out drunk before I got home. I could sleep outside if they locked the door, and pretend I'd come home earlier…

As if. Knowing my dad, he'd review the camera outside the door to verify. I was truly, truly dead meat.

"Need a ride?" I almost jumped out of my skin, whirling around. Tak was standing behind me, bundled up appropriately for the freezing temperature.

"Where the hell did you come from?" I asked, catching my breath.

"I just passed you," he replied patiently. "I was out with a couple friends at the bar, last call happened- then I saw a half-frozen girl limping across the road and realized it was you. Lain, I thought you had a ride?"

"I forgot how retail works," I grumbled. "When I didn't get off right on time, I lost my way home."

"Good thing I've got one," he said, pointing. I saw tail lights behind us where he indicated.

"Fine," I replied, shortly. "But I'm taking a picture of your license plate, if I end up dead someone's going to connect you to me, and pretty boys don't do well in prison."

"That's...smart," he replied, hesitatingly. "Well, get closer so you can have a better shot."

I wasn't going to take pictures of his plates. I didn't even have a friend to send them to; my only friend had been chased away a few months ago. I walked with him to the back of his car. Damn, it was nice. Just a little Cruze, but well-maintained and better than anything I'd ever drive.

Ever.

I pretended to snap a picture and text, as he stood patiently by the passenger door. I got in, and he shut it behind me. He'd left the engine idling, so the inside was blissfully warm. I sighed happily, before I could stop myself.

"Is this better?" He asked, leaning forward and shifting the vents towards me. I nodded.

"All right, where are we going?" he asked. "It's within walking distance, right?"

"Sort of," I said. "My first job is within walking distance, so I intended on walking from there to here, and then get a ride back. I'm not sure that's going to work now, though."

"Because of not getting off on time?"

"No, because they already are scheduling me for weird shifts," I said. "Unless I can break the laws of the universe and be two places at once."

"That stinks. Are you going to quit?" He asked, beginning to drive.

"Turn here," I pointed. "I probably will, it's not enough pay to jeopardize my other job. Although I already said I'd gotten another job so if I quit, even for good reason, I'm dead."

Crap. That slipped out. I cursed internally, blaming the comfort of the warm car.

"Expectations are high?" he asked, lightly.

"Very," I mumbled.

"Well," he said as he stopped at a red light, and looked at me. I shrank further into the seat, still avoiding his eyes. If I could turn into a flea and jump away, I would.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, slowly. "I was just going to say, where I work, they're hiring. They need waitresses."

"I don't have a liquor license," I replied.

"That's fine, they'll pay the fee for it," he replied. "The pay isn't bad, and I know they'll work with your shifts. And, if we happen to work the same shifts, I could bring you home."

The light turned green, but the car sat still. I was thinking as rapidly as I could.

"Well, my stepmother already knows where I was hired at," I said finally. "If it suddenly swapped, it would be bad."

"As well as if you got fired for missing shifts," he pointed out. "Do I go straight?"

"Yes," I replied, and fidgeted in my seat. "When would I be able to interview?"

"I'll just get you hired," he said. "I've not been wrong so far, and I've gotten a couple of cooks and a waitress hired before now; they're still there."

"All right," I said meekly. "I'm available to work after 1 tomorrow."

"I'll meet you at your first job and get you there," he said. "You have your phone?"

"Yeah," I took it out. He listed off his number.

"I'm going to save you as TicTac," I informed him. "If a guy's name is in my phone…" I let my sentence trail off.

"TicTac is suspicious enough," he said. "Why don't you save it as Takoda? It could be feminine or masculine."

"True," I edited it.

"So, don't send anything suggestive," he continued. "Got it. Ah, where…?"

"Right," I said. "You can stop just up there by that white house. I'm a little further down."

"Another problem if they see the car?" he asked.

"Probably."

He parked, and sat for a moment. He sighed.

"Listen, Laine, I don't know you and you don't know me, but, if you need me, I'll be around. Even more than work," he added. "You smell like a good person. I don't want anything bad to happen."

"I what?" I asked, confused. He chuckled.

"It's just a phrase," he explained. "Don't think about it too much. Just, don't hesitate to reach out, all right? This-" he held up my arm, "isn't okay. For anyone. You dig?"

I felt a hard lump in my throat, and tears welling to my eyes. "Thanks for the ride."

"Text me, please, while you're here in the car. I'm going to save your number." I hesitated. "C'mon, I'm not going to call you, or text anything to cause a problem."

I shook my head, and sent a quick message with my availability. His phone dinged on the stand by the steering wheel.

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow," he said, getting out and opening the door on my side before I could respond. "I think you're going to enjoy the place."