Relinquish



“What the fuck, Jayden? Did you turn the alarm off?” I frantically question, falling out of the bed. The unforgiving floor slams against my kneecaps as I land, tangled in the sheets.

“You kept hitting snooze, and I was trying to sleep,” she grumbles into her pillow.

“Nice. Well, you sleep while I rush to get a job so we can afford food!” I don’t hold back my sarcasm. I fling on the only decent thing I can find in my closet. It’s a little black dress which cuffs my shoulders and falls to my thighs. I got it at the thrift store, hence the little holes here and there, and the tatters along the hem. I glance at my poor shoe collection, wondering what I should wear with it.

“Flip-flops?” I question out loud with distaste.

“Use mine,” Jayden mumbles, sitting up in her bed and pointing at her addiction of shoes. Her hair consists of little curls spiked up everywhere. “I think we’re the same size, or close at least.”

I run over to her shoes and find some shiny, black high heels.

“These are nice!” I admire, turning them every which way. They’re not from a thrift store, for sure; there’s not a scuff on them.

“Thanks. I got them at a five-finger discount.” I raise my eye at her as she rolls over on her bed, pulling the sheet over her naked ass.

“With me getting this job, you won’t have to steal,” I inform her, but she doesn’t respond. I’m not a hypocrite—I’ve stolen my fair share of shit, of course—but Jayden deserves better than that. We deserve better than that.

Slipping my feet into the heels, they fit perfectly. Hopefully, I don’t break my neck in them.

“Well, they look hot on my feet, even if they are stolen,” I giggle. I look at the shitty alarm clock, noticing it’s 6:50 a.m. Shit, I’m never going to make it.

“I’ll be back!” I yell, running toward the door.

“Open this fucking door!” sounds from the outside of our apartment door, along with a loud thumping of a fist against wood.

I stop in my tracks and look back at Jayden, sitting straight up in her bed, fully alert.

“What the fuck?” I ask Jayden in a hushed voice.

“You stiffed me two hundred dollars, you little bitches!”

I glare at Jayden, her eyes wide with alarm.

“You what?” I hiss.

“We needed food, Charlie!” Jayden whisper-yells. I look over at the counter, the ramen noodles and off-brand soda empty. We have no more money, not for rent or food. My stomach particularly growling for eggs and bacon is not helping any.

I tangle my hands in my hair, stressed more than I already was. “Fuck.”

“Take the fire escape,” Jayden suggests, pointing at the window and flinging the blankets off her.

My eyes light up and I scamper over to the window.

“I can hear you in there, damn it!” rumbles against the front door, along with continuous knocking.

I slide the window up and shimmy my way out, tripping from the huge-ass heels on my feet as I fall head-first out the window.

“Good luck!” Jayden whispers, pushing my leg the rest of the way out.

“Yeah, thanks.”

I make my way down the rusty metal stairs in a rush, the heels of my shoes sticking in the grates of the fire escape. After reaching the sidewalk, I take off the heels, holding them in my hand as I run with all I have.

After making it a block up, my hair sticks to my face from my sweating, and my feet burn from the brutal asphalt cutting into the bottom of them. I stop. I’ll never make it.

“You need a ride?”

Looking over out of breath, I spot Chasen in a shiny green truck.

“I don’t have any money to give you for gas,” I pant, my calves burning from my running.

Chasen slides his tongue along his bottom lip, looking out the windshield before looking back at me.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.”

I wince and raise a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying. We’re two adults. You’re attractive, I’m attractive.” He shrugs, hanging one of his arms over the steering wheel.

I tilt my head back and look up at the sky. See, everyone wants something in return for a favor.

“I’m not having sex with you for a fucking ride,” I sneer, eyeing him with a vengeance.

He chuckles, leans over the seat and opens the door.

“Get in. We’ll talk about it after I get you where you’re going,” he insists.

I look up the street, conflicted. I need this job. We need money like we need air or we’ll be homeless. Fuck! I peer at Chasen from under my lashes, his strong jaw and plumped lips carved into a smirk. I sigh heavily. What choice do I have?

“Fine,” I grit, climbing into the leather seat. The truck smells new, and it’s detailed to perfection. It looks expensive with all the leather and gadgets.

“Take me to the dentist’s office,” I demand, slamming the door shut.