I walk to my bedroom, closing the door behind me.
Sinking onto my bed, I bury my face in my hands and allow myself thirty seconds of pure panic. Ten thousand dollars. It feels like an impossible task.
But I can’t let him die. For all his faults, all his failures, he’s still my dad. Still the man who taught me to ride a bicycle, who held me when mom died, and in his rare sober moments can make me laugh like no one else can.
I pull out my phone and open my banking app.
$2,126.47.
It’s every cent I have to my name. But it isn’t enough. I need more money, fast.
The tips I make at Mel’s Diner aren't going to cut it. Even if I work double shifts every day, I’ll never make enough in time.
I run through all the things I own that might be worth some money. There’s my laptop. It’s the one I’d gotten in the ninth grade but it still works. I could try to sell my phone and the gold locket that had been my mother’s.
“Shit.” Even if I sell everything I own it won’t come close to ten grand.
Dad has really screwed the pooch this time.
As I flop back on my bed and stare up at the ceiling, Kenny’s words from earlier run through my mind.
I have to find a way to make some quick cash that doesn’t involve robbing a bank.
Chapter Three
Demi
I pound on McKenna’s door for the third time. “Kenny!” I call, leaning closer. “Come on, I know you’re in there!”
I glance over my shoulder as the lock finally clicks. I swing my head back around as the door swings open to reveal my best friend looking like she’s been hit by a truck.
My brows shoot at. “Uhh, rough night?” Her usually perfect pitch black hair is standing up all over the place and under her eyes is smudged with a ring of dark mascara, making her look like a raccoon.
She squints as she flips me the bird.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” she croaks.
I do, but I’m pretty sure her question is rhetorical.
“I need your help,” I say instead.
With those four words, Kenny blinks rapidly, her focus instantly sharpening as she peeks around the door frame like she’s expecting trouble to be standing right behind me.
“Get in here.” She motions for me to come inside.
I do and wait for her to throw the deadbolt.
The lock clicks in place and she attempts to run a hand through her hair. “Shit,” she mutters when her hand gets stuck. “You’re gonna have to give me a minute to get my life together,” she says as she turns for the kitchen. “I can tell I’m going to need coffee for this.”
More like a bottle of Jack.
I leave that part unsaid as I follow her through the cramped living room and into the kitchen.
“So,” I start dropping into one of the mismatched chairs at her secondhand table.
“Aht—” McKenna holds up a hand silencing me as she pops a K-cup into the coffee maker and pushes the button.
I roll my eyes, although I should know better than to attempt a conversation with my bestie before she’s had her coffee.
