Brook

Three days. Three days of watching mindless TV and wanting nothing more than to go home to California. I know that’s not happening. Not when I don’t have an apartment to go home to. I need to do something. Back home, I made sure to stay in shape, my job kind of demanded it.  I long to go for a run. “Is there a work out room in this place?” I ask one of the girls in the common room. Bex, I think her name is.

“Oh yeah, hon. It’s out in the garage, so none of us girls go out there. The boys don’t keep it clean. We have a gym membership in town we share. If you want to chance it, it’s through the garage. You can’t miss the door,” she says on a laugh, and the other girls by her side giggle.

“Okay. Thanks.” The unsure smile on my face is enough to appease them, so I quickly leave when they start gabbing about something else. Being around them feels strange, knowing Sage has more than likely screwed all of them. I tamper down the unsanctioned jealousy that tries to crawl its way up my chest.

Quickly, I make my way outside, already dressed in my yoga pants and tank top underneath a sweatshirt. My shoes hit the gravel and crunch as I jog over to the garage. The place is quiet, and no one seems to be around, but when I crack open the door, I find cots set up all over. A couple of Riders are still asleep. One of them even has a woman passed out on top of him. I cringe for a second thinking it might be Sage, but then bat the feeling away. Glancing around the wide-open space, I spot a poster spanning almost the entire length of a lone door: a completely naked woman with boobs bigger than her head bending over a motorcycle showing off her uncovered vagina. I guess that would be the door and the reason Bex said I wouldn’t miss it. Taking in a deep breath, I head across the cement floor and slowly push the poster wrapped door aside, hoping to find it empty.

A smile breaks out along my face when I step in and don’t see anyone. When I walk all the way in, I find the room takes a sharp corner and has a whole other space to it. My eyes fill with a strong sweaty chest flexing then releasing as he does a butterfly exercise. “Hey, Brook. Come to work out?” He stops and stands from the bench.

“I don’t want to bother—”

“No. No bother. What’s your poison? We got a treadmill with all the bells and whistles,” he offers, nodding to the machine parked next to a very impressive elliptical. “Just do me a favor, don’t let the girls know what’s in here,” he says, making adjustments on the weight machine.

“Why is that?”

“Sometimes, we just need time alone. If they know this place isn’t the pit we described it to be, they would be in here all the damn time talking hair extensions and shit. So, we get them a membership in town. Easier that way,” he explains, getting back into position.

“I’ll be sure to keep my mouth shut. College, right?” He nods and shoots me a smile before starting up again. I pop my earbuds in and take my spot on the treadmill. It faces the wall, and someone was nice enough to put up a poster—that doesn’t contain boobs—of a road leading through a forest. I focus in on that, toss my sweatshirt to the side, then start up my music. I let my imagination take me away and pretend I’m running through that very forest. My legs burn, and I push further and further, only slowing down when I need a break, but not stopping.

My mind drifts as sweat starts to coat my back and forehead. It bounces to Gin, to my childhood, then lands on my mom—to the night I was dropped off by cab at her house. At first, I almost didn’t go inside, but I pushed myself to walk up and knock on the door. Otherwise, I faced being homeless.

“What are you doing here?” Mom asks me when the door flies open. Not even a hello.

“I couldn’t stay with Gin anymore. Can I please stay here? I’ll get a job and help with the rent. I promise. You won’t even have to deal with me. I swear,” I plead, and by some miracle, she holds the door open.

“Fine. Come in. But you have to sleep on the couch. I don’t have an extra room,” she snaps, then leaves me to walk farther inside where she sits down on a chair in front of the TV. That’s when I get a good look at her. She’s tired, bags under her eyes, her skin not as smooth as it always is with all her treatments. “I left Bill. It turned out he was already married,” she tells me, flipping the channel. It doesn’t surprise me, though. I know she didn’t leave him, he more than likely left her to stay with his wife. That’s what always happens.

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Rent is twelve hundred and due on the first. I expect half when the time comes,” she tells me, not even glancing my way. It doesn’t matter that it’s already the fifteenth and I’ll need to look for a job.

“Okay,” is all I tell her and sit down on the couch that runs along the wall. I let my bag fall to the floor and my head hit the pillow. Sleep finds me quickly, but still, I know in the morning things are going to get hard.

I sure as hell was right about things getting hard. The next day, I went out and found that getting a job without a high school education or a GED was going to be a pain in the ass. Which was no surprise to me. So, I did small things here and there until I saved up enough to take the GED test. Mom didn’t kick me out when the first rolled around. She only threatened to make me pay the whole rent for the next month. I made it two whole years with her, working crap waitress jobs and the occasional babysitting gig from the house next door, until she met her next fling. Then I was out on my ass. It honestly couldn’t have been better timing, though. I had just met the girls who worked at the club when they came in one night I was working a double shift. They told me all about how much money they made and that I could definitely get a job there and start dancing as soon as I turned eighteen. I never saw my mom again.