The Pink Sneakers Club: Sometime Around Midnight. Christian Bertoni

peach fuzz on his top lip. He turned on his heels and walked out.

      “Guys a real dick.” Janelle said. “C’mon let’s go before he decides to come back and bore us to death some more.”

      Ah, Hooters. That innocent nether land between the blatant perversion of a strip club and the bland innocence of a boobless meal. Thank God my shift was finally over!

      I looked at my watch, shit, no wonder I was beat, it was after two in the morning. I strolled into the back and grabbed my purse from one of the lockers.

      “Hey, good job tonight.” Janelle said.

      “Thanks.”

      “You’re pretty sharp. It took me months before I was able to pick it up.”

      “Thanks.” I said between yawns. It’s not rocket science. Duh!

      “Look, we’re all going out to the bar, care to join us?”

      “I’m only seventeen.”

      “Really? You act way older. All right well maybe another time.” Janelle turned around and headed out the door with a few of the girls.

      I got in my car and drove home, put the car in the garage and walked through the utility room and into the kitchen when I stopped cold.

      “Son of a bitch.”

      The table hadn’t been cleared, the spaghetti was still in the large pot on the stove and the dishes were still in the sink.

      I was tired and all I wanted to do was cry. Don’t you do it! Don’t you give them the benefit! Just suck it up. Another year and a half and then –- I’m outta here.

      It took me an hour before the kitchen was cleaned. I looked at my watch: 3:45. I closed my eyes they burned from exhaustion. Walking through the living room I noticed my mother sleeping on the couch with her cigarette in hand. “God mom.” I said under my breath. I took the cigarette from between her fingers, looked at it for a moment before deciding to take a quick drag. I know I told you Julie smokes but sometimes so do I. Except nobody knows. It’s my little secret and now it’s yours. I put it out and went down the hall to my bedroom, changed and slipped into bed. Since our house only has three bedrooms, we all share. One for my parents, one for Julie and Brenda and lucky me I get to share a room with Norma! Yay! Ain’t life awesome! God I’m a real bitch when I’m tired. I plopped down on the bed, to tired to change.

      My last thought before I fell asleep was - tomorrow is another day.

      Kaye

      Chapter 5

      We were riding in Caren’s new car. Same Camaro except now it was black with pink stripes. She got vanity plates that read: PNK SNKRS.

      “Sweet ride.” I said to Caren. “I thought your mom wasn’t going to get you another car?”

      “She did, but I think she feels really guilty for dating Andrew.”

      “Nice.”

      We finally got home . . . to Caren’s house, I know I live here now, but it’s still hard to call this place home. Don’t get me wrong Ms. James and Caren have done a lot to make me feel as welcome as possible in such a short time. I got my own room. They moved the stuff I wanted to keep into my room and the rest they went out and shopped for, which was pretty much everything. The only thing I kept were my clothes, make-up, accessories, punching bag and shoes. That’s pretty much it.

      Caren’s mom was making us dinner, steak, mashed potatoes and green beans.

      “Wow everything looks good Ms. James.” She looked up at me, “uh sorry Monica.”

      “Thank you. Now would you girls like to set the table please?”

      Caren and I grabbed the dishes, forks and knives and glasses and set the table. We put out the salt and pepper, napkins a bowl of fruit and bread.

      I can’t remember the last time I ever sat down with family and had a home cooked meal. I never thought I’d miss it. Of course missing it suggests I ever had it.

      “So ladies what do you have planned for this evening?”

      “I don’t know we were thinking about maybe a movie.” Caren said.

      “Yeah but not the Notebook again. I can’t take that sappy crap.”

      “What? You didn’t like it?”

      “Like it? By the end I was rooting for Alzheimer’s for myself so I’d forget the friggin’ movie.”

      “Okay fine you pick the movie.”

      “What do you like? Horror, action . . . what’s your poison?”

      “No horror! I can do action. What do you got in mind?”

      “How about . . . “ I thought for a moment, “The Dark Knight Returns.”

      “Is it out?”

      “No. But I can download a copy and transfer it to your T.V.”

      Ms. James interrupted, “you mean pirate?”

      “Mmmm I like to consider it borrowing early with no costs.”

      “Yeah but will it be a good copy?”

      “Trust me.” I smiled.

      “Who’s in that?” Ms. James asked.

      “Christian Bale.” I said.

      “Oooh I love it. Okay I’m in. I mean if that’s okay?”

      “Oh God mom yes! A girls night!”

      “Sounds great.”

      “Let’s do it about 9:00? I want to take a shower.” Caren said.

      “Nine works. Okay with you Ms. J- Monica.”

      “Great. I’ll bake some cookies and we can sit and watch us some Christian Bale!”

      After we helped clear the table and put everything away Ms. James – man it’s gonna be tough remembering to call her Monica. At least she hasn’t asked me to call her mom. Started in on the baking while Caren went to take her shower.

      I went outside sat on the patio furniture and was on Caren’s laptop working on the pirated copy of Mission Impossible 4. Oops. You didn’t hear that from me. I was drinking coffee and smoking my first cigarette since we took down the Russians!

      I took a long drag when Ms. James came outside and sat across from me.

      “Brrrr. It’s cold.” She was wearing a thick white sweater over her shoulders.

      “I love this time of year. Want one?” Showing her my pack of cigarettes.

      “Sure, what the hell.” She took the pack pulled out a cigarette. I slid her my new lighter, she lit the cigarette and took several drags.

      “So how’s it going?”

      “Almost done downloading then a simple transfer and we’re good to go.”

      “Where’d you learn to do that?”

      “I don’t know here and there. You just kinda pick it up.” I looked over at her. “I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

      “You’re welcome. But you don’t have to thank me. I’m glad to help. I’m just . . . sorry it had . . . to be like this.”

      I gave her a half smile, “me too.”

      She took another puff. “Can I ask you a question?”

      “Sure.” I took another drag and blew out the smoke.

      “How are you doing?”