Nic's Devotion: An Endless Series: Book One (3 page)

     “What…I just didn’t like the look she was sporting. It
was almost like she was gleeful about whatever Carrie got called away for. If
she got called away for an emergency don’t you think that it would have to be
something serious? Who’s happy about something bad happening to someone else?”

     “I don’t know. I could be real happy if something bad
happened to a few people. Matt, Trey and Curt come to mind.” Seth groused.

     “That’s because they’re little shits. Carrie’s too
sweet for anyone to dislike her.” I pointed out ruining my previous
‘I could
care less’
attitude.

     They all looked at me as if I was growing an extra head
out of my nose. “What, you don’t think she’s sweet?”

     “I don’t trust sweet and innocent.” Landon said with a
contemptuous sneer. I frowned as his cynicism reared its head, but then he
shrugged his shoulders. “But we’re talking about girls here. Carrie’s hot.
Girls hate other hot girls. And who knows what’s going on behind the scenes of
this restaurant. There could be a ‘real world’ vibe being played out that we
don’t know about. We all get that you got the hot’s for her, but you really
don’t know anything about her.”

     “I do not have the hot’s for her. She’s too young, and
way too sweet for what I want to do.” I objected.

     “Keep telling yourself that jughead. And who said we
were done here, I still want dessert.” Seth looked around for our substitute
waitress. 

     “Pit,” I growled.

     He growled right back.

Chapter Two

Carrie

     I followed my manager, Lynda, into her office. I’d only
been working here for two months, since after I had turned eighteen, and was
still in my probation period. If she wasn’t happy with my work she could fire
me for just about anything, and the fact that she was pulling me off the floor
into her office wasn’t a good sign.

     Motioning for me to take a seat Lynda kept the door
open and went to sit down behind her desk. If she was keeping the door open
than it must not be too bad I reflected. Bad news called for closed doors. I’d
learned this at an early age.

     Taking the chair in front of her desk I waited to see
what she wanted. The expression on her face wasn’t a happy one, but Lynda only
wore two expressions; mad and unhappy. This one looked like a cross between the
two.

     She leaned forward and I couldn’t stop my stomach
tightening in apprehension at the look on her face. “I’ve just had some
troubling news. Someone informed me tonight that you were involved in a murder
investigation; that you were charged with murder.”

     Strong fingers wrapped around my throat, squeezing
tight and a wavering pattern of dots began to consume my vision. Nausea was
close at hand.   

      Lynda continued. “Now I wouldn’t just take someone’s
word for this, so I went online and low and behold.” Lynda turned her computer
monitor around to show me the articles she’d obtained.

     The nausea was trying to work its way up. I swallowed
and inhaled deeply, avoiding the monitor. I’d learned exercises for this; I
wasn’t going to puke.

     Lynda carried on her one sided dialogue. “This is you,
right? It says that you killed your father. On our employee application it asks
for felony convictions. Murder is a felony.”

     My stomach and chest cavity constricted painfully.
Thankfully, the vomit remained in my stomach, but white dots peppered my vision
and by breathing caught in my throat. My lungs wanted to close up but I focused
on breathing and was able to state hoarsely. “If you read further you would see
I wasn’t convicted of those charges.”

     A disgusted look flashed over her face. “They probably
did some kind of special circumstance mumbo-jumbo because you were a juvenile;
an innocent looking female juvenile.” She sneered. 

     I’d heard this so many times that it shouldn’t surprise
me. All the facts of my case weren’t in the news articles because it hadn’t
gone to court and the police hadn’t released a lot of the information to the
press because I’d been a minor. My name hadn’t been released to the press, but
it’s incredibly difficult to keep people’s identities off the internet. 

     “I still didn’t lie on my application. I wasn’t convicted
of a felony.” I said hoping her stance would change because I really needed
this job. I knew it wouldn’t though. I’d come across this attitude too many
times.

     Lynda sat back in her seat with a smug expression. I knew
what was coming. “I’ve come to the conclusion that your work isn’t up to the
standards of this establishment, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you
go.”

     I gave her a defiant stare through my nausea. “I’ll be
expecting my next paycheck in the mail.” She really had no right to fire me,
but this job wasn’t something I was going to fight over.

     I stood up and left without another word. There was a
group of cooks and waitresses scattering and staring as I exited the office
making my stomach clench more. She had probably kept the door open in fear that
I would reach across the desk and stab her with my feather pen and hoped that
one of her employees would save her. I wonder if she realized that not many
people here really like her.

     “Carrie?”

     I was pulling on my coat and barely hanging onto my
sanity when Jim, one of the line cooks, stepped into the break room.

     “Hey Jim.” I acknowledged with a strained smile while
grabbing my purse.

     He frowned. “What’s going on? Lisa just told me you
were fired.”

     Jeesh, news certainly traveled fast. I nodded in
confirmation making my way past him to the back entrance. I heard his footsteps
behind me. Jim was twenty-three and had always been nice to me. I think he kind
of liked me because he was always getting in my personal space and asking me to
do stuff after work, but I’d been keeping my distance while trying to remain
friendly with him. I wasn’t against making friends, but it was hard for me to
get close to people.

     “Jim.”

     Both Jim and I looked back to see Lisa standing there
watching us with a frown. Lisa liked Jim. I knew this because restaurant gossip
was like wild fire, it spread quickly and there was no way to really stop it. She
was also very obvious about it, just like she was obvious in her dislike of me.
Most likely because of his friendliness toward me.

     Lisa gave me a sneer. “Jim, you don’t want to be
hanging around with her. I told you there was something weird about her and its
come out that she killed her dad. That’s why she was fired.”

     Jim twisted to look at me with an appalled expression.
“Holy shit! Is that true?” He took a step back like I was contagious.

     This was why I didn’t get close to people. My throat
was closing up more so I wasn’t able to answer him. Instead I turned and rushed
out the door. No one followed me, but then I wasn’t expecting anyone to.
Flipping the coats hood over my head I grabbed the pepper spray from my purse
and focused my attention on the half mile walk to the bus stop.

     There was only a twenty minute wait for the next bus so
that wasn’t too bad, and there was no snow on the ground which was an added
bonus. Sitting down on the bench I took a deep breath of the cold January air
to let it clear my mind and settle my belly. It was amazing what deep breathing
could do as long as you didn’t pass out from too much Oxygen. I didn’t want to
think about any of this until I got home. I didn’t want to take the chance that
I would have a break down. It had been a while since my last crying jag, and
there was a chance things were building up to explode.

     The bus came and I climbed on taking the seat directly
behind the driver. There was less possibility in getting hassled that way. The
ride home was twenty-five minutes and I found myself staring at the back of the
bus driver’s head getting lost in the swirls of his curly gray hairs. They were
vaguely reminiscent of the white caps I’d on occasion get to see when I could
get over to the coast. The memories helped to isolate my thoughts from what
happened earlier.

      I exited the bus at my stop and walked the six minutes
to my house. In the three years I’d lived here I’d never been bothered walking
home, but I also never took the chance that I wouldn’t be. That was the reason
for the pepper spray.

     There was no porch light left on for me as I climbed
the stairs to the apartment, and I didn’t expect there to be. Fitting my key in
the lock I stepped silently into the kitchen area relocking the door behind me.
It was dark except for the soft glow coming from the living room. The
television. My mom always fell asleep in front of it. Tip-toeing into the
living room I looked down at the sleeping face of the one person who should
love me no matter what, but instead seemed to hate me.

     I had vague memories of her being vibrant and loving at
one time in my life, but the memories had become less frequent as the years
passed to where I didn’t even have them anymore. I have only disjointed
memories of what life had been like before that night four years ago; hazy
pictures of school, classmates, teacher’s, relatives, and obscure images of a
home before this one. It wasn’t like I had amnesia, everything was
just…indistinct. It was like I was trying to call up someone else’s memories.

     Whoever that person was the life she’d lived seemed
agreeable so I wasn’t sure why the memories seemed so unattainable. I didn’t
let myself worry a great deal about it however. There were too many other
things to worry about…like finding another job.

     I’d just started my freshman year at the University of
Virginia, and instead of living in the dorms I stayed here so I could help take
care of my mom. She’d gone steadily downhill since that night four years ago.
Lately, she hardly gets up off the couch. At least when I was home she didn’t,
but then I was hardly ever home. I hated being here. She blamed everything that
happened that night on me, and even though I had pushed all thoughts of that
night to the back recesses of my brain the emotional guilt and shame still
lingered.

     My throat tightened up in warning and I shook my head
and clenched my hands. Don’t think about it I told myself; just keep it pushed
back for a little bit longer.

     Leaving the living room I headed to the bathroom not
bothering to turn the television off. My mom would immediately wake up and
raise hell if I did. It was like her background noise for a good night sleep.

     Stripping down in the tiny bathroom I stepped into the
shower letting the hot water pour over my head hoping it would warm me up and
soothe my muscles, but it only worked to a certain degree. I hurried because I
could feel the pressure inside of me building for that big explosion. Two
minutes later I was done and brushing my teeth with shaky hands.

     Slipping into my bedroom I pull on my thick flannel
shirt and pants. Shivers had taken hold of my whole body as I burrowed under my
covers trying to get warm. I never feel completely warm though. Pulling the
pillow over my head I could no longer contain the sobs and they burst forth.

     Hopelessness weighed down on me like a heavy bolder,
wanting to crush me but I try not to let it. I summoned thoughts of the water
and how free and light I feel when I’m swimming. It helps somewhat, easing the
depression inside of me as well as my weeping. Images and thoughts flicker
through my head and then out of nowhere the face of one of the guys from my
five top tonight gets stuck there.

     All those guys had been so nice. Normally a bunch of
guys together would have freaked me out, especially since they had all been so
big, but the sound of their stomachs growling and the grins on their faces had
made my dread sort of dissipate. They had joked with me the entire time and I
had even let my guard down and joked back. I’d smiled more in that hour than in
the last month. 

     The other waitress’s had been really jealous that I’d
gotten them but I’d been up next on rotation. If the guy’s hadn’t been so nice
I probably would have asked someone else to take them off my hands, and the way
all the girls had acted they would not have been difficult to unload. Most
likely there would have been a cat fight to see who got dibs. It’s quite
possible that’s exactly what happened when I left because someone had to take
over their table for me.

      I could understand why the other girls had gone gaga
over them; all five of the males had been good-looking in different ways. Even
though I never really looked at guys in that way I could appreciate an attractive
face and form when I saw it.

     One of them, the most attractive one I thought…when
he’d looked at me…well, it had caused fissions of discomfort at first, but then
I realized the look in his eyes wasn’t overt ogling or leering. It just seemed
like appreciation. That was something I was accustomed to seeing from guys, but
frequently it held an overload of ickiness. His hadn’t contained that.   

     My eyes were getting heavy and the last thing I
remember before falling into darkness was green eyes, curly blonde hair and a
winsome smile.

     Those images didn’t follow me into sleep though.

     I woke abruptly with a cry, gasping for breath, and
looked around in a panic…but everything was quiet…still…and my room was empty.
What I did find was my clock; it read 4:54 a.m. Exhaling heavily I slumped back
onto my back, crossed my arms over my eyes, and brought my breathing under
control. After a few minutes of steady breathing I reached over and shut off my
alarm. It wasn’t set to go off for another forty-six minutes but there was no
way I was going back to sleep.