3. Aeri

W hat the hell am I supposed to do now?

I've been up for maybe ten seconds. Not even long enough to clear the sleepies from my eyes, and my anxiety is already through the fucking roof.

The plan had been to get as far away as possible, as fast as possible. I knew I'd have to stop somewhere… eventually. But Utah just doesn't feel far enough.

Will anywhere ever be far enough, though?

No, I could fly across the world and still feel too close.

I let myself freak out for another minute before I decide I need to pull it together. This isn't going to help me, and one week won't kill me. I can get back on the road soon. I just need a game plan until then.

One that should probably involve making money now that I've drained so much of my savings.

The only problem is that I have no idea how to do that or where to even look in this town.

I spend the rest of the morning on my phone, looking for jobs and, more importantly, looking for jobs I can do.

I have about no experience outside of baking for fun and the coffee shop I worked at for the last eight months. Growing up as a ‘spoiled rich kid' is really biting me in the ass right now.

Either way, I applied to about ten places. Some say they are willing to train, so it's worth a shot. My phone beeps a second after I toss it down in annoyance, and I all but lunge for it. There's no way someone is already getting back to me. I only applied minutes ago, but I hope it is, nonetheless.

Instead, I find a message from Ruin. I'd forgotten I gave him my number for my car. But it's only been a few hours, so I can't imagine what he would need. Opening the message, an image begins to load, and I find myself even more confused.

Saw these up on one of the city boards. Thought they might be useful for you.

Even with shit internet, it loads pretty quickly, and before it's done, another one is coming through.

What the hell?

Five pictures later, I finally get it. He sent me job listings! I'd seen something like this at the coffee shop.

Thank you so much!

I message back, excited to have a possible change in luck.

Though, I'm less excited about the fact that I'll have to call each of these places.

Whatever, beggars can't be choosers.

The board they post on must be huge. It takes me a while just to go through the pictures and write the jobs and numbers from each image. By the time I'm done, I have a list of fourteen jobs to call and apply to. I also listed places with rooms for rent or those looking for a roommate. Depending on the price, it might be cheaper to do that than pay a nightly fee here or even monthly, should I have to stay longer.

It only takes me about thirty minutes to call everyone on both lists, and while the roommate ones are all a bust or didn't answer, I have two job interviews set up for tomorrow!

One is with a coffee shop that's about a fifteen minute walk from here, and the other is as a waitress. The waitress opening is further, almost an hour walk, but the city bus should get me there in about twenty minutes, or three stops; however you measure bus travel.

The coffee shop would be my first choice. It's closer, and I have experience, but I can't be too picky right now. I'll take whatever I can.

To celebrate, I order room service for dinner—nothing fancy, just soup so that I won't throw up from my nerves. Somehow, it still feels like a major splurge, but not having to go out and get my meal—yeah, super worth it.

I'm gonna throw up.

My stomach rolls as I turn the corner to the coffee shop. I've never been interviewed before, not really. My one and only job was given to me by a friend of a friend. She'd put in such a good word for me that all I'd had to do was show up and fill out the paperwork.

By the time I hit the air conditioned shop, I can't help but sigh in relief. It might be hot, but most of my sweating is due ?to nerves—not that anyone needs to know that. I imagine people around here are pretty used to the effects of this heat, something I can't even begin to understand.

Thankfully, I was smart enough to grab a variety of clothes on my way out. I couldn't grab a lot; I didn't have time, and honestly, I didn't want it all anyway, but I tried to be prepared. Unfortunately, none of it was packed with the thought that it would be eighty degrees. My high-waisted dress pants are black but thankfully loose-fitting. I paired it with my light purple blouse instead of the black one, but the fabric is still heavy and sits on my skin, making it feel like it weighs a million pounds. My hair still isn't long enough to go back into a ponytail, so I'm forced to leave it down. I wet it before leaving and hoped my natural waves would turn out cute and not frizzy.

It wouldn't have been so bad if I could drive over, but even fifteen minutes in this heat is killer.

Crossing my fingers, I say a prayer that I get this job. I'm not sure I would survive the bus ride and walk to the waitress position.

"Aeri?" an older woman calls for me from behind the counter, pulling me from my thoughts and waving me toward the back.

"Oh dear, you must be melting," she says with a chuckle, and I can't help but chuckle as well. She's not wrong. I grab a napkin from the dispenser on the counter and dab at my face with a smile. Hopefully, she doesn't think I'm crazy.

We head through the back of the store, and she hands me a bottle of water with a smile. I try to sip it but end up chugging it. It's so cold and refreshing and exactly what I need right now.

"My name is Olga, and this little shop is mine and my husband, Craig. We make everything fresh daily and live just upstairs," she says, leading us to a small table in what I assume is their break room. "Our oldest granddaughter has been running the counter in the mornings while we bake, but she's going off to college in a week. We're old and not as quick as we once were. Running the front and doing the baking is just a little too much."

She seems sweet, smiling and joking, and I decide I like her.

I really hope I get this job.

Her smile wavers as she meets my eyes. "Unfortunately, we're not able to pay as much as some of the larger chain places do, which is making finding help a bit hard."

Crap.

We talk a bit more about wages, tips, and hours. The pay is less than I hoped, but it's still closer than the waitress job, which will save me money on the bus. Not to mention, it's something I have experience with.

In the end, I take it. Unsure if I would have even gotten the other job, I don't want to pass up an opportunity that seems overall like a good thing.

I give her my number, and she lets me know she will call me about my schedule in the next few days before sending me on my way with a donut and a cold coffee. Both are delicious, and honestly, the lower wage is kind of forgiven with the promise of unlimited coffee and a treat daily.

My damned sweet tooth is going to get me in trouble someday.

The walk back is hot, but the coffee helps, and I can't help but have a bit of a pep in my step as my day turns out better than I thought it would.

My phone rings just as I walk into my room. I half expect Olga or maybe even Ruin.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Aeri?" A deep voice answers and I'm positive I've never spoken to whoever this is before. There's no way I would forget this voice.

"Um, yes. Who, might I ask, is this?" I ask, a bit on edge. I'd ditched my old phone and got a cheaper one under a fake name with a new number when I left, but that doesn't mean anything.

I stand in the doorway, frozen, as I silently pray it's not him or someone for him.

"My name is Asta. You emailed me regarding the room we have for rent. Were you still interested?"

I sag against the door at his words. I'd emailed, called, and texted a lot of people, so it makes sense I would probably get a few calls back. Despite that, it's hard to fight the panic knowing he's out there.

"Yes!" I say in a rush, shaking myself mentally. "Sorry, I've reached out to a few people. Could you remind me of which this is?"

Kicking the door closed behind me, I make my way inside to grab a pen and paper and scribble down the address as he rattles it off.

"Are you free tomorrow to come see the space and meet the others who room here?" he asks, and I quickly pull up the map on my phone to see how far it is.

Thirty minutes by bus. Crap, that's a little farther than I wanted, but if I remember correctly, this listing said five hundred a month. Right now, I'm paying fifty a night for this motel room. If this works out, I'll be saving a lot.

"Yes, I'm free most of the day. Would morning or afternoon work better for you?"

"Afternoon."

"How about six?" I pick a random number. It's not as if I have any plans, but I'm sure most people work, so I'm not surprised he can't do it in the morning.

"Six is perfect."

"Okay, I'll see you then," I say somewhat awkwardly, unsure what else to say.

Apparently, I didn't need to say anything because the line goes dead.

I don't want to get my hopes up. For only five hundred a month, this place is probably a shit hole, not to mention Asta kind of sounds like an ass.

Despite knowing better, I can't help but be hopeful. After the way today went, maybe, just maybe, I'll be okay and back on the road again in no time.

All the bad is worth it so long as I'm free.