But it was the day she found out I was tweaking that her over-protectiveness kicked into high gear. Maybe she hopes she can bring me back from the brink. Who knows? Whatever it is, I know her heart’s in the right place, and she’s done okay keeping things together, so I try not to disappoint her too much.
I cross Main Street and walk under the streetlights to the end of the block. The gun and ammo shop is dark inside and the barred security door is locked. But to the left of it is a rickety wooden door that a stiff breeze would probably blow over. I turn the lock and the hinges creak loudly in the midnight quiet as I pull it open. I lock it behind me and climb the steep, narrow staircase to the door at the top, knowing I’m fifteen minutes late and knowing Destiny will be waiting up, expecting an explanation. I push the door open and find her in the kitchen.
“Where have you been, Delilah?” It’s out of her mouth, all maternal concern, before I’m even fully in the door.
“I think I might have gotten a job.” I scratch my head with my free hand. “Sort of.”
Her eyes widen. “Doing?”
I tuck my guitar case into the corner near the door and pull the cash out of my pocket, setting it on the table. “Playing on weekends at the bar you work at.”
“That’s where you were?” she asks, her eyes lifting from the cash to mine, searching for the lie.
“All night,” I reassure her. “Ask Bran.”
Her expression turns sour. “I don’t like the idea of you hanging out in a bar.”
Of course she doesn’t. We came here to get me clear of tweakers. Not that I saw anyone who fits that bill at Sam Hill. “It’s not like there are any BART stations here. It’s the only place I could think of to play.”
When we needed money for the PG&E bill or whatever, Lo and I would go play the subway stations. It’s impossible to find a job in the city if you’re not at least eighteen, but we did well enough with our music that I could cover most of the utility bills. Even though it’s cheaper to live in Oak Crest, Destiny only has one job. Resignation slides over her face as she thinks about our situation and comes to the same conclusion I have.
We need the money.
“You’re sure you’re ready?” she asks with a questioning squint.
“I’m fine now, Destiny. Seriously.” She’s right to ask, because only a week ago I wasn’t. But I’m over it now.
“They’re good people there,” she says with a weary sigh, then scrutinizes me for another few seconds before adding, “As long as it’s only weekends.”
“Bran says that’s probably the only time I’ll make any tips, so…”
The concern on her face is replaced with determination. “Then I’m going over to Oak Crest High on Monday to enroll you. If you’re ready to play at Sam Hill, you’re ready to go back to school.”
I look down at the stack of cash. The thought of starting a new school in the middle of October makes me throw up in my mouth a little. “I was thinking about getting my GED instead.”
“Uh-uh,” she says. When I lift my eyes to hers, she’s shaking her head and scowling. “Mom and Dad already stole your childhood. I’m not letting them take high school from you too.”
I just look at her. “Shouldn’t that be my choice?”
“No.”
Her dismissal pisses me off. I might have screwed up, but I’m not a baby. “There’s nothing I’m going to get out of high school, Destiny. This isn’t like the city. I can get a regular job here…help with the bills and whatever. We won’t always be broke.”
She shakes her head again. “First of all, I think you have to be at least eighteen to get your GED, and second, it’s not just high school, Lilah. It’s your whole future. You’re going to college.”
An incredulous laugh erupts out of me. “Really? Because if I remember right, you didn’t go to college.”