Chapter Four: WAVERLY STREET

1176 Words
Hanna It really didn’t even last 24 hours. As I watched the man leave, all I could feel was anger. Sad, upset, frustrated, but angry. How dare he? And he threatened Faith too, I’d heard him. I wouldn’t even blame Faith because if that was her boss, then damn, her boss really was an ass. “That was my…” Faith said, nudging a thumb over her shoulder to where the man entered his car – a damn Benz – and drove off recklessly. “That was your boss, yes.” I didn’t even know what to say, what to do, right then. I looked over to my bag of clothes still sitting on the ground outside, and decided to make the decision before someone as good as Faith had to kick me out. “I’ll just go, it’s fine. You’re too good a person. I can’t let you lose your job.” I went to pick up my bag, just as Faith said, “But where would you go?” I did not even want to think about that because I had no idea. But Faith didn’t need to know. She’d already tried to help. “I know somewhere.” I felt like the lie was so obvious. But I gathered my stuff up anyway and walked away head held high. Ish. I still wanted to cry badly. As I passed by Faith’s car, she called, “Get in the passenger seat, please.” I turned to her. Was she mad? She could get fired. “No. My… my aunt can take me in.” I had no living relations I knew of. “You liar,” Faith smiled as she walked up to me. “You absolute liar.” I stood rather dumbfounded. I supposed we’d crossed the line from a formal interaction to a rather informal setting. But who was she to call me out on my lie? And worse, what was she going to do about it? “I’ll be fine, Faith. I can’t get between you and your boss. He’d fire you.” Faith shrugged, smiling rather mischievously. God, what plan had she concocted? “Technically, you’re not supposed to be in that house anymore. You can be somewhere else.” I almost laughed. Did this woman ever learn? “You want to set me up in another abandoned place? No thanks,” I scoffed, turning away. “I live in a two-bedroom alone. You can have the other bedroom.” I turned back to Faith. But by God, the woman had to be mad. “Taking in a stranger? Why in the world would you do that?” She shrugged again, and I found that the gesture usually led to an aggravating answer. “You need it.” “I could kill you in your sleep. I could poison you. I could steal…” “I actually don’t believe you can do any of those things, but I’ll take my chances.” Sweet Jesus, she was certifiable. “Why?” was all that I could think of saying. That was almost too good to be true. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, you can pay me rent when you get a job. Till then, maybe you can just, I don’t know, cook or something.” Oh yes, that made me so comfortable. I was just going to jump on the offer now. For all I knew, maybe she wanted to kill me and harvest my organs. Nah, she didn’t look like she had that in her. “You’re crazy.” I just had to say. She nodded, now grinning. “Now that we’ve agreed on this, get in so I can take you to my house before my boss kills me for showing up late.” That spurred me into action. I dived into her passenger seat, a bit too eagerly for someone I didn’t know at all, and waited for her to get in. “So what’re you getting out of this arrangement?” I asked rather bluntly. She chuckled as she started the car and pulled out of the driveway. “Knowing you’re safe. Doing my quota of good deeds for the society. Keeping my job. Not being lonely anymore. I could go on.” There was an unnatural amount of selflessness in those reasons, but I refused to look this gift horse in the mouth. We left the area, driving past more modern houses and cleaner areas. As we drove, we talked. About my situation, about why she liked her job so much (She loved finding the perfect home for people), about what she meant by cook or something (I’d cook as payment till I could get a job and pay her), my full name and hers. I felt fairly safe now that I knew she was Faith Lambert. At the very worst, a name to report if I got sold. Finally, we pulled into a street with these cute white bungalows in a long row. “Wow,” I uttered involuntarily, eyes trailing over the lawns. They were perfect. Immaculately shaped lawns, little flower hedges… “Is this real?” It looked like a picture. I heard Faith chuckle beside me. She pulled up into the driveway of the last house on the street, and I read the address painted in the cutest letters into the wall of the house. “41 Waverly Street, huh.” This place was like a dream. “Unrelated, but I probably would want to live there forever.” Faith laughed out loud at this. My chest swelled, proud that I could make my helper smile. In that moment I vowed two things; I would not think about my situation, and I would not let Faith down. She hurriedly ushered me inside, and God, her house smelled like lavender. Who was this woman? “So these are the keys —” she practically threw them at me. “The second bedroom is the door on your right when you go down the hall. It’s yours. It’s self-contained, so you can shower or stuff. Change into your clothes.” She changed out of her high-heeled shoes as she spoke, switching them to a pair of black flats at the door. “Why are you changing shoes?” I asked. “Because Aaron is going to stress the s**t out of me today,” she murmured. Hmm. That fine excuse of a boss is Aaron. “Lock the door if you leave!” She threw a suit jacket over her shoulders and fixed her curly brown hair into a surprisingly quick, bun on top of her head. “My number’s always available, call if you need anything. The kitchen’s over there!” As she spoke she disappeared more and more out of the door. After “See you!” she shut the door and I could hear her running. I chuckled to myself. Then I sobered up as I looked around the lobby I stood in. Well. So that just happened.
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