Jesse's Girl
Page 54
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“Congratulations, baby girl,” he says, wrapping me in a huge hug. “I’m so proud of you for going solo.” Dad yawns and goes to start a pot of coffee.
“There’s a catch,” I say. “We have to pay for travel. It’s expensive to get to New York. I’ve got $150, and I bet I can save up another hundred or two in the next month, but I’ll need a lot more for two plane tickets and a hotel…maybe a thousand.”
He stops scooping grounds into the coffeemaker and turns to look at me. “Baby girl, you know that I used every spare cent we had toward the down payment on this house…and I can’t miss a mortgage payment. I might be able to spare a couple hundred, but not a thousand.”
“But, Dan,” Mom interrupts, placing a hand on his chest.
“I’m sorry, love. I don’t think we can save up enough in a month. Maybe if I’d had a bit more warning, I could’ve put some aside, but I just don’t have it right now.”
I hurry out of the kitchen to my bedroom, blinking back tears. Sometimes it really sucks that my family doesn’t have money. My brother played football for Michigan for four years, but we only made it to two games because we couldn’t afford to travel. Dave’s dad works out at the Air Force base and his mom is a teacher, and while they aren’t rich or anything, they could afford a trip to New York. And don’t even get me started on Jesse Scott. I’m not jealous of being rich, but I wish I had the chance to have options. Even if I pick up a ton of hours down at Caldwell’s, I could never save up this kind of money in a month. I lie down on my bed and clutch my pillow. What other options do I have?
My brother only recently started making money, and while Jordan’s family is wealthy, I’d never ask her for help. If she or her family found out about it, I know they’d butt in and pay to send me to New York, but that would embarrass my father and brother. They are both very proud men.
Do I have anything I could sell? The only things I own of worth are my two guitars, the boots Jesse gave me, my Suzuki I fixed up, and the Bose iPod dock I saved and saved for.
Mom knocks and comes in my room to join me on the bed. We sit in silence together for a while, her holding my hand.
“Are you gonna call Jesse and tell him the news?”
I shake my head. “I can’t tell him.”
“Why not?”
We’re not in a relationship. I don’t have any idea what we are, we haven’t talked in several days, and I don’t want him thinking I’m asking for favors. He hates when people do that.
“I have to do this on my own.”
Mom smiles and squeezes my hand. “That’s my girl.”
Dare You to Move
Dave comes with me.
We meet the guy in the Walmart parking lot—a safe place with lots of lights.
“I’ll give you $300 for it,” the man says, eyeing the Suzuki I slaved over for six months, the motorcycle I ride every day. I spent hours working on the fuel line; it took three months to find the right parts to upgrade the transmission. I put my heart into this bike.
“How about $350?” I say in a strong voice, not letting my voice waver, not letting a tear fall down my face.
“$310?”
Dave just looks at me. He doesn’t know what it’s worth. I swallow hard and run my hand across the seat, feeling the care I poured into it.
I guess, in a way, the bike is getting me to New York for the auditions—even if I’m not riding it there. I can only pray that the time and money I’m dedicating to this trip will amount to something as cool as this Suzuki.
“$330?” I ask.
“$325.”
“Sold.”
• • •
With three weeks until the semifinals in New York, I’m working my fifth shift of the week at Caldwell’s. I’ve clocked nearly twenty hours, and boy, am I exhausted. It’s a good exhausted though. With the money I got for the Suzuki and my Bose iPod dock, plus the cash I have saved, I’m up to $750. Even though they are so not me, I would never consider selling the boots Jesse gave me.
After taxes, this week’s paycheck will probably be about $125. I’m getting closer, but I still can’t afford five nights staying in a $200 per night hotel, and every time I check online, the cost of plane tickets goes up, up, up. It must be so expensive because everyone’s heading to New York to see the decorations after Thanksgiving.
My phone rings right as I’m finishing ringing up a customer. I glance around to make sure Mr. Caldwell and Dad aren’t in the lobby and answer my cell.
“There’s a catch,” I say. “We have to pay for travel. It’s expensive to get to New York. I’ve got $150, and I bet I can save up another hundred or two in the next month, but I’ll need a lot more for two plane tickets and a hotel…maybe a thousand.”
He stops scooping grounds into the coffeemaker and turns to look at me. “Baby girl, you know that I used every spare cent we had toward the down payment on this house…and I can’t miss a mortgage payment. I might be able to spare a couple hundred, but not a thousand.”
“But, Dan,” Mom interrupts, placing a hand on his chest.
“I’m sorry, love. I don’t think we can save up enough in a month. Maybe if I’d had a bit more warning, I could’ve put some aside, but I just don’t have it right now.”
I hurry out of the kitchen to my bedroom, blinking back tears. Sometimes it really sucks that my family doesn’t have money. My brother played football for Michigan for four years, but we only made it to two games because we couldn’t afford to travel. Dave’s dad works out at the Air Force base and his mom is a teacher, and while they aren’t rich or anything, they could afford a trip to New York. And don’t even get me started on Jesse Scott. I’m not jealous of being rich, but I wish I had the chance to have options. Even if I pick up a ton of hours down at Caldwell’s, I could never save up this kind of money in a month. I lie down on my bed and clutch my pillow. What other options do I have?
My brother only recently started making money, and while Jordan’s family is wealthy, I’d never ask her for help. If she or her family found out about it, I know they’d butt in and pay to send me to New York, but that would embarrass my father and brother. They are both very proud men.
Do I have anything I could sell? The only things I own of worth are my two guitars, the boots Jesse gave me, my Suzuki I fixed up, and the Bose iPod dock I saved and saved for.
Mom knocks and comes in my room to join me on the bed. We sit in silence together for a while, her holding my hand.
“Are you gonna call Jesse and tell him the news?”
I shake my head. “I can’t tell him.”
“Why not?”
We’re not in a relationship. I don’t have any idea what we are, we haven’t talked in several days, and I don’t want him thinking I’m asking for favors. He hates when people do that.
“I have to do this on my own.”
Mom smiles and squeezes my hand. “That’s my girl.”
Dare You to Move
Dave comes with me.
We meet the guy in the Walmart parking lot—a safe place with lots of lights.
“I’ll give you $300 for it,” the man says, eyeing the Suzuki I slaved over for six months, the motorcycle I ride every day. I spent hours working on the fuel line; it took three months to find the right parts to upgrade the transmission. I put my heart into this bike.
“How about $350?” I say in a strong voice, not letting my voice waver, not letting a tear fall down my face.
“$310?”
Dave just looks at me. He doesn’t know what it’s worth. I swallow hard and run my hand across the seat, feeling the care I poured into it.
I guess, in a way, the bike is getting me to New York for the auditions—even if I’m not riding it there. I can only pray that the time and money I’m dedicating to this trip will amount to something as cool as this Suzuki.
“$330?” I ask.
“$325.”
“Sold.”
• • •
With three weeks until the semifinals in New York, I’m working my fifth shift of the week at Caldwell’s. I’ve clocked nearly twenty hours, and boy, am I exhausted. It’s a good exhausted though. With the money I got for the Suzuki and my Bose iPod dock, plus the cash I have saved, I’m up to $750. Even though they are so not me, I would never consider selling the boots Jesse gave me.
After taxes, this week’s paycheck will probably be about $125. I’m getting closer, but I still can’t afford five nights staying in a $200 per night hotel, and every time I check online, the cost of plane tickets goes up, up, up. It must be so expensive because everyone’s heading to New York to see the decorations after Thanksgiving.
My phone rings right as I’m finishing ringing up a customer. I glance around to make sure Mr. Caldwell and Dad aren’t in the lobby and answer my cell.
