Chapter 3

Creep

“Trevor Warren.”

Taking a deep breath, I give the hostess calling my name a tense smile before following her back to the manager’s office in the back of house. This is my first interview since my job search started and I don’t want to fuck it up. I was excited when they called to schedule an interview—embarrassingly so. I even asked my dad to ask me a few questions in a little “mock interview” before I came today. I felt almost childish when I asked him to pretend to interview me, but I pushed any embarrassment aside because I really want to do well today. I have two interviews setup today and another one tomorrow. If these don’t go well, I’ll have to return to filling out more applications online.

This first interview is for a line cook position at a local restaurant. It’s underwhelming to say the least, but I really need the money. I need a full-time position at a place that pays decent or—better fucking yet—a part-time position at a place that pays very fucking well, so I can have more time with my nephew. As soon as I walk into the office, I can tell this job isn’t going to be the best fit for me. The manager’s a complete prick off the bat. It’s like he’s lording his management position over me like it’s something I should be insanely jealous of. He treats me like I’m some sort of juvenile delinquent from the moment he sees my tattoos. I tried my best to cover them up—wearing a long-sleeved button-up to hid most of them—but I couldn’t hide them all. He took one hard look at the black and gray lotus flower on the right side of my neck and made a judgment call on me. It’s apparent he thinks I’m not good enough for the position. Which is surprising, considering it’s in food service and I’m going to be in the back of house. Fuck him. I leave feeling fucking jaded.

The interview wasn’t a complete train wreck, but it didn’t go well either. He said he would “get in touch with me,” which I know is code for: “Don’t expect a call because it isn’t going to happen.” I try not to let it get me down, but I wish it went fucking better. Hell, I wish I was in the position to be turning jobs down. However, I know I can’t be that choosy since I’m pretty much begging for a position. I go out to my truck and try to relax, wishing I had a Marlboro 27 between my lips. I kicked my smoking habit as soon as I found out I was Grey’s guardian. I knew it wasn’t right to smoke around a baby—so, I trashed my last pack and haven’t smoked since. That doesn’t mean the cravings are gone, though. I deal with the cravings all the damn time. I pop open my glove compartment and grab my package of Nicorette Gum before popping a piece into my mouth. It doesn’t take away the craving completely, but it definitely soothes my desire.

While I’m chewing away on the gum and daydreaming about nicotine, I open my wallet and look at the photo of Grey I placed inside earlier this morning. It’s a photo of him as a newborn and, for some reason, it really has a way of soothing me. He’s asleep in the photograph and looks so incredibly peaceful. I run my forefinger across his face before folding the photo back up and slipping it behind my driver’s license. It feels good having it there. It’s like a constant reminder of why I’m doing this. I don’t care how many prick managers make me feel like shit because I have my nephew to go home to.

I grab my lunch before heading to my second interview of the day. The job’s a night clerk at a gas station near my parents’ home. I don’t know if it will work well with my need to take care of Grey, but it’s an option and I have to keep all of my options open. If this interview works out, I could always keep this job while I search for a better one that’s more compatible with my life. As I park outside the run-down gas station, I have to admit that I feel incredibly stupid wearing a button-up shirt and a nice pair of pants to this sort of job interview. This isn’t some nine-to-five office job, this is a shitty job at a shitty gas station. However, I hope the effort I put into my appearance works in my favor. I run a hand through my dark, unruly mane before heading inside with the hope that this interview won’t go as poorly as the last one did.

 

 

I leave the interview feeling frustrated. As soon as I walked in, the manager snickered at me as he saw me dressed to the fucking nines for an interview at a gas station. Then, he couldn’t offer me more than fifteen hours a week. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if I were making more than nine dollars an hour. I won’t be able to afford anything with that pay. I struggled to pay rent with the few roommates I had in Cali—so I have no idea how I’m going to pay for a nice apartment for Grey and myself. The manger told me he’d call me later this week if I got the job, but I didn’t get very positive vibes from him. I left knowing that I shouldn’t keep my hopes up.

I pass a toy store on the way home and decide to stop. Since I’m not coming home with good news, it’d be nice to at least come home with a new toy for Grey. I park and grab another piece of gum before heading inside. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a toy store. The nostalgia hits me in waves as I realize I used to come here with my dad. Dean would look at the action figures and I would want to look at the various stuffed animals. Dean used to tease me for wanting a toy like that, but whenever another kid teased me for having a soft and cuddly toy, Dean would jump right in and scare them away. He was an amazing older brother. A lump begins to form in my throat and I try desperately to focus my thoughts on something else. It’s still so painful to think about him. Hopefully, I’ll be able to look back on our time together one day without feeling this way.

I redirect my thoughts to Grey as I begin to walk up and down the aisles. I can’t ignore the appreciative glances I get from women as they pass me. The “old” me would’ve dropped whatever I was doing to flirt with them, but the “new” me focuses on finding a toy for his nephew. Even if I did flirt with them, what would I really have to offer them besides sex? I don’t need some older woman to look down on me. As hot as they may be, I know I have other things to focus on. I’m horny, though—uncomfortably so. I have so much built-up tension inside of me that I just need some way to release it. Maybe I should get a gym membership or a subscription to PornHub? I snicker at the thought and try to focus on something other than my libido.

After twenty minutes of shopping with the help of an attractive saleswoman, I manage to find a few toys that are age appropriate for Grey. I leave the store with a Fisher Price gift set and the saleswoman’s cell number. I don’t plan on calling her anytime soon, but it’s nice to know that women still find me attractive. Especially insanely hot women I could easily see myself fucking. As soon as I get back on the road, I switch on the radio, feeling significantly more positive than I did an hour before.

I get home around dinnertime, only to find that my family already ate. I try not to seem too disappointed because they are allowing me to live here for free, after all. I find the leftovers on the stove and set my shopping bag on the kitchen table before going to search for Grey—excited to show him his new toys. I need a little positivity after my disappointment of a day. I find him in the living room, resting in my mother’s arms.

“How did the interviews go?” Mother asks without looking up from the baby. Her voice is passive, but I try my best to ignore it.

“They’re going to get back to me,” I lie, before taking a seat on the chair across from her.

She stiffens as soon as I sit down, as if she doesn’t want me in the room with her. Grey stirs awake in her arms and his big eyes search the room until they fall on me. As soon as his eyes meet mine, he begins to cry, causing me to want to hold him and make everything better.

“I can take him, Mom,” I say, reaching my arms out for him.

She tenses and holds Grey closer to her breast. “I raised two children, Trevor. I think I’ve got this,” she scoffs.

Grey continues to cry and I roll my eyes at her, wondering why she insists on being so fucking difficult. “Mom, he wants me to hold him. Let me take him.”

She looks at me for a long moment, before sardonically replying, “Of course, he does.” She hands him over, but she couldn’t have been more passive-aggressive about it if she tried.

As soon as I take him away from her, I cringe at the tired look on her enhanced face. Suddenly, I feel bad about my bitter thoughts toward her. I know she’s been struggling since Dean’s death and I haven’t been the most supportive son.

Grey’s cries cease as he sits comfortably in my arms. He stares up at me with a big grin before he starts to make all sorts of noises as if he were trying to have a conversation with me. I run my fingers along his face as he grabs ahold of my thumb, giggling before trying to stuff it into his mouth. I chuckle at him and feel all the stress from my day slowly begin to dissipate from my body.

“Well, I’m going to go clean-up the kitchen,” my mother says, sounding resigned.

I don’t want to upset her, but she almost acts as though she’s upset that Grey and I have a good relationship. Which confuses me because why wouldn’t she want what’s best for her grandson? I’m his guardian now, and having a good, loving relationship with him is extremely important.

Wanting to make her feel better, and maybe even a little proud of me, I tell her, “I have another interview tomorrow.” I try to sound as optimistic as I can.

Although she’s standing in the dark hallway leading to the kitchen, I can see the condescending look on her face. She looks so different like this… Truly unrecognizable. What happened to the beautiful and carefree woman she was when I was growing up with Dean? Now she looks so cold and repressed. Even though she stands a few feet away, I feel a great distance between us.

“That’s good, Trevor,” she finally responds, and leaves before I can utter another word.

I watch her go and have to wonder if she’s always treated me like this. Maybe I was too busy partying while I was growing up to ever notice her shit behavior toward me. I hear Grey giggle and I turn my attention back to him, not wanting to dwell on something which will only make me more depressed. Jesus, he’s so happy and he’s got his whole fucking life ahead of him. What I wouldn’t give to go back in time and redo things.