At home, I lie in bed and pull the covers over my head. I tell Dad I’m not feeling well.
A few minutes later, he brings me a bowl of chicken noodle soup and sets it on my nightstand.
“Thanks, Dad. I’m not really hungry though.”
He feels my forehead.
“I’ll leave it here in case you get hungry, honey. You sure you don’t need me to take off work tonight?”
I rest my arm over my head. “I’m sure, Dad. I think I’m just run-down or something.”
“Well, get some rest. Call me if you need me.” He buttons his work vest and walks out my door.
My phone rings. Of course, it’s Cassidy.
I get it over with.
“Hello.”
“Where did you disappear to? I thought you just went to the bathroom.”
“I did.”
“Did you fall in and end up in the ocean? What the hell, Chelsea? You can’t just keep disappearing.”
“What’d Miss Mound say?”
“Where are you, Chelsea? Answer my question!”
“I’m home.”
“Miss Mound was wondering too. The whole squad was wondering.” She took a deep breath, in a put-out kind of way. “You’re home?”
I roll over.
“I’m in bed. I think I’m getting sick. My stomach hur—”
“Enough already!” She cuts me off. “You’re not sick! What is going on with you, Chelsea?! Caleb Vanhoose asked me where you were after the game and I didn’t even know what to say!”
“I saw Nate in the crowd.” Caleb Vanhoose, huh?
“Who?”
“Nate. From the casino. He was with a girl.”
“The casino guy? ARE YOU CRAZY? Who cares who that guy is with, Chelsea! You have no business flirting around with him anyway! Did he see you?”
“I don’t think so. I hope not. He’s never seen me play poker looking like a wrapped gift with that bow on my head. Hopefully he didn’t recognize me.”
“Chelsea, do you realize how much trouble you’d be in if you were caught? You’d go to jail, Chelsea. Or he’d go to jail. This is getting ridiculous.”
We sit in silence.
I decide to appease her.
“You’re right. I’m done with it. I’m done with the poker. I’m done with flirting with Nate. I’m done.”
She replies, “Well good. Welcome back to reality.” We sit on the line in silence for a few seconds. She breaks the silence. “Chelsea, you know if you ever need a loan that I can help you out.”
I think of the stack of bills and start to cry. She has no idea.
“I do. I need a loan, Cassidy. Just fifty bucks to get me through the weekend.” Tears stream down my face, and my nose starts to run. “I’m afraid we’ll lose our electricity. I can’t let Dad know. He has no idea how much money all this cheer stuff . . .” I cry. “I don’t know why I thought I could pull this off.” I can’t stop crying.
Cassidy listens for a few seconds. She doesn’t know what to say. Finally, she comes up with, “I’m on my way.”
After a lot of tears and a little laughter, Cassidy opens up her Coach bag, and digs for her wallet. I want to stop her, but I need the money. Even if it’s just Cass, I’m still humiliated.
She lays a $100 bill on my nightstand.
“I don’t need that much.” I sit up.
“Take it. You can pay me back after you find a job or something. It’s not that big of a deal.” She walks toward the door and zips up her purse.
The money sits on the nightstand.
“Thanks. This helps. A lot.” I slide back down into my covers. “You have no idea how much this helps. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can. I promise.”
“Get well soon.” She replies as she walks out the front door.
I stare at the money for a long time.
I think of a lot of things: Dad working at the convenience store, my new boots that sit in my closet, the growing stack of bills, and empty refrigerator.
I think of Nate and a girl.
I want to push any thought of Nate out of my mind, so I get up and start opening mail.
Gas. Plus late fee.
Telephone and cable. Time to stop cable service, again.
I climb back into bed.
Flip through the channels.
Look over at the $100 bill.
Flip through the channels.
And look at the money again.