Paint It, Black
Life is what you make it.
“Trent, I need you to cover for Nigel tomorrow morning.”
I sighed internally, seeing my day off disappear in the wind. I glanced at Tammy, my boss. “Sick again, is he?” I asked while restocking the blank money orders next to the printer.
She rolled her eyes. “You called it. I don’t know what’s up, but he and I are gonna have a talk when he gets back.” Poor Nigel. Tammy’s “talks” tended to be brutal.
“I’ll be here, like always.”
Tammy patted my cheek. “I knew I could count on you, no matter what the grapevine says.” I scowled at her as she blew me a kiss and wandered off in search of others to torture.
I was aware of what everyone said about me. Trent the slut; sleeps with any man who’s breathing; likes a good time. As if that was what define
