On the Plus Side
Page 3

 Tabatha Vargo

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At one point during the conversation he asked, “What about the kids? You just gonna walk out on the kids?”
I couldn’t hear her response, but apparently we didn’t matter too much. She gave up on us, and you never get over the pain of losing a mother. It would’ve been easier if she had died.  I wouldn’t hate her as much for leaving if it wasn’t by choice.
I haven’t been the same since she left and I’ve always blamed her for my fear of attachment. Though I’d never talk about it, deep down she’s the reason I have trust issues. She’s the reason I refused to bind myself to anyone. The fear of feeling the way I felt the day she left is unbearable. I would never put myself in the position to get hurt like my dad did.  I’ve never even had a serious girlfriend.
Jenny’s the reason I stuck around here. I’d die before I walked out on her. She’s the only reason I still work at dad’s shop—the reason I’d do almost anything to get this money and save our home.
“Shit!” I said as I pounded my hand on the steering wheel.
Eight thousand dollars! Where in the hell was I going to find that kind of money so fast? I could always rob a bank.  Bank robbers always get caught, but maybe I could hide the money somewhere for dad and Jenny to find, like in one of those awesome action movies.
After driving around aimlessly for an hour, I ended up in front of Renee’s house. I was in need of a good dose of stress relief.
I spotted her sitting on her front porch gossiping on her cell phone. She ended the conversation and smiled as soon as she saw me.
She’s a pretty girl—tall and lean, the way I like them. I wouldn’t call her beautiful, since most of the attractive things about her are fake—box-dyed blonde hair, false nails, and a rigid smile. It would suck to find out that her blue eyes were contacts.
Physically she’s not perfect for me, since I liked natural girls better, but emotionally, she was my exact match. She was aware of my limits, which made things comfortable. No expectations made for an easy ride.
Thanks to her reputation for being a freak in the sheets, some guys called me lucky to have her. I knew differently.  Her self-centered nature made her active in bed, but as for being a freak…not so much. 
She slammed her slender body against mine and wrapped her arms around my neck. I leaned down and pecked her on the mouth.
“Is that all I get? I swear, Devin, I don’t know why I bother with you.” Her deep southern twang stabbed into my ear drums. “I guess it’s too much to ask for a flirty phone call every now and again? I wish you would’ve called to let me know you were comin’ by. I have a nail appointment then Nicole’s coming over for a movie night. Oh! I almost forgot, I talked to Matt the other day…did you know that Cassie’s brother went Afghanistan?” She rambled on and on until finally she realized I wasn’t talking and stopped. “Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked.
I imagined myself choking her to death and laughing hysterically like one of those crazy scary movie psycho freaks. I almost laughed out loud at the thought. My dad would kick my ass for just thinking a thing like that. I was raised to never to put my hands on a female.
“You talk too much. Let’s go inside and do this,” I said flatly.
There was no need to bullshit her into thinking I was there for any other reason but to get laid.
She leaned in and kissed me, slipping her tongue into my mouth. Before long we were in her small, two-bedroom house falling over things trying to make it to her bedroom. Mindy, her roommate, was nowhere in sight, thankfully.
Afterward, I sat back in her bed surrounded by fluffy pink pillows and lace. She’s definitely the girly type, nothing like my little sister Jenny. I’d probably die if I saw anything pink in her room. Renee quietly slept with her legs wrapped around mine. I felt so much better. Sex was what I needed, sex is the main reason I keep her around. Shit, she uses me, why the hell shouldn’t I use her? I looked over at the pink alarm clock on the side table. It was getting pretty late. I really needed to get up and head home and I seriously needed to find eight thousand dollars…fast.
With that final thought I quickly and quietly got out of Renee’s bed. I slipped on my clothes and slid through the house to the front door. The evening air rushed through my hair as I slammed the door behind me. The entire way home my thoughts were on money. There had to be a way, there was always a way.
Two
Lilly Sheffield
Yesterday, at a charity benefit my mom pretended to be interested in, a miniature man on a massive stage was trying to get everyone to donate to a multitude of charities. I’m usually the biggest donator, mainly because the people who run these things knew me so well—they prey on my conscience and make me feel like a monster for having money. Once they pull out the slide shows of starving children, I’m done for. I leave with at least a hundred grand missing from my bank account.