Đọc truyện We Went Broke at Midnight | ✔ - 3 | you're broke, i'm broke, don't we make a fine pair?

3 | you're broke, i'm broke, don't we make a fine pair?

Trước Sau

Màu nền

Font chữ

Font size

Chiều cao dòng

❝It doesn't matter about money; having it, not having it. Or having clothes, or not having them. You're still left alone with yourself in the end.❞
—Billy Idol

3 || you're broke, i'm broke, don't we make a fine pair?

time || morning

I get up from the booth and throw away my now empty cup. I glance back at Brolin who's still sipping his coffee. I can't just leave, but at the same time it's not as if we're anything to each other. I just paid for his coffee, nothing else. Not to mention I lied to him. Was he even convinced? Did I look 21 to him? People have told me I look like I should still be in middle school.

I then take a detour towards the entrance and exit the cafe. I can't have high faith that some stranger would want to get to know me more. Besides, his girlfriend just broke up with him for Pete's sake, and he just lost his job.

When I'm half way down the sidewalk, passing all the little shops and restaurants along the way, the sun seems to be shining exclusively upon me. As if I'm the one person the sun has set it sights on. I tug at the cardigan sweater I'm wearing over my dress, regretting the decision to wear this when it was clearly getting hot.

"Hey!"

I turn around. It's Brolin. I don't hide my surprise. "Uh yeah?" I say. He needs to make it quick. I'm silently hoping that he's not going to ask to borrow money.

"You just left," he says,"I forgot to thank you."

I eye him eerily. "But you did thank me."

"Uh... well you didn't tell me you were leaving."

I roll my eyes. He must be one of those possessive types. And don't tell me this is another way he hits on girls or something, cuz I don't play rebound.

I don't say anything, and I keep walking ignoring this guy who's now irritating the hell out of me.

I guess you can't do nice things for people without them driving you crazy.

"You wanna hang out?" He catches up with me. I stop walking. Why would I want to hang out with him? Someone who's penniless? Here I am sounding hypocritical. Trust me, I'm not the type who like people only cuz they're rich. No... I just don't want to have to pay for everything. I only have about $40 left and some change, and I really don't want to have to be spending money on a guy who isn't worth it, and that I barely know.

"No," I say. I attempt to walk away from him, but not before he decides to step in front of me.

"Why—Wait... okay... what if I told you I really wasn't broke?" He gives me a smile as if he's chancing something here. Though he's already lost it for me. He lied to me. I almost get angry but stop myself when I realize I don't know this guy. I don't know him at all. Maybe he's just trying to take advantage of me, Karen Nicole Rice, who's 18 years old and a senior at Warner High who lives with her father.

I need to call someone.

I take my phone out.

"Please hear me out," he says. I see the hopeful gleam in his eyes which hesitantly makes me put my phone back in the pocket of my dress.

"My train leaves for Maryland in 24 hours, and since my landlord kicked me out this morning..." he rubs the back of his neck. "I thought maybe spending the day with you would be fine. Besides..." he then takes something out of his pocket, which looks to be a card. My mouth drops open when I see that it is—in fact—a credit card.

"This is the card my parents gave me for emergencies. But, since I already bought my train ticket, and I'll break it to them that I got laid off. I might as well put this to good use while I can."

He's done talking, but I eye him skeptically. He's not serious, is he? That's the second time he has me asking myself that question today. If he had money in the first place, why didn't he pay for his coffee with this "emergency" card, then?

"So I wasted my money..." I say dropping my hands pitifully at my sides.

I furrow my eyebrows at him.

"So I'm broke, too. Except, I don't have a thing called a fucking emergency card. Okay? I only have $50 for crying out loud?" But I take out my wallet and laugh bitterly at the sight of the remaining green papers with dead men's faces printed on them. "Yeah, I forgot I only have $40 and some change, because oh yeah, me Karen Rice spent money on a stranger who already had money!"

If I were dramatic I would've thrown the money at him. But money was tight for this gal here, and I had to keep up with the small remainder of money I had left. Who knows, maybe I'd spent the last $50 bill I was ever going to hold again.

I know money shouldn't matter, no matter how rich and poor you may be. And I'm not greedy. I'm not. Really, I'm not. But I just feel frustrated that me and Dad are going to have to change our way of life if whatever, doesn't come through tonight, doesn't come through. Heh, the friends I have now will never talk me again, because Karen's poor.

I sigh. I'll become ostracized and I'll just be another lame-loner who once had friends and used to be rich, but got lame once her Dad went broke. That thought makes me let out another anguished sigh.

I feel the Brolin guy staring at me, and when I look up to meet his eyes, they seem to hold... concern? I shake my head. "You know what?" I say, trying to get ahold of myself. "Let's forget about me paying for your coffee. And you probably should buy a bouquet of roses for Fatima with that card of yours, if you wanna get back with her."

I walk away and I don't even bother to see if he's following me. Cuz, this gal here, isn't gonna depend on anybody or a stranger's money, to make her day any better. I'm going to have to get a grip on things in order to go back home and go face whatever fate I'll have financial-wise.

:: :: ::