Page 11 of Piston

“Clock off time?” Marcus asks, and I snort, raising a brow at him.

“After all the painting I did this afternoon?”

He winces, his dark gray eyes looking my way sympathetically, but the twinkle in them gives away his true feelings.

He thinks it’s funny.

I stick my tongue out at him, making him laugh, and he lets me back inside the building.

I’ve been working weekends at Cora’s Day Care Center for about a year and a half now. I also work part-time at the diner in the evenings after class.

I’m burnt out, I know it, but I only have a year left before I graduate. Hopefully, I can get a decent full-time job at a school, and buy a nice small house, or at least rent one.

I head to the room I was assigned, where I watch five three-year-olds, and wince at the paint on the tables, floor, and chairs.

Okay, so maybe I should stick to Play-Doh next time.

Groaning, I go to the supply closet and grab the mop.

I have thirty minutes before I have to meet Piston for our last meet-up. He graduated today and plans to celebrate tonight with his brothers, but wants one last hurrah…or a goodbye?

Yeah, no, one last screw, basically.

Three years ago, we agreed that we can’t continue messing around after he leaves school, and I still agree. Relationships aren’t something I want.

I mean, who wants to watch the person they love cheat, treat you like crap, or choose you over their kid…. Projecting my fears onto relationships? Maybe, but I don’t care. I just wish I had never fallen in love with Piston; then, today would be easier.

I always believed love was a load of crap, but the more time I spent with Piston, the harder I fell. Being away from him makes it hard to breathe, and when we’re together, I feel at home, and have to have my hands on him.

For a long time, I didn’t understand my feelings or why my heart would race when he’d message me or show up at my door.

When I opened up to Honey, she explained it, and I freaked out.

That week, I told Piston I was ill…until he showed up and screwed me into oblivion, and I caved. I fell, and I fell hard, but today…today we say goodbye to each other, and my heart already feels heavy.

Pushing the feeling aside, knowing this is the right thing to do, to end things before we get too deep or, well, any deeper for me, anyway, I begin to clean the room, trying to keep my mind occupied.

I really shouldn’t have brought out the paint….

I’ve just wiped off the last bit of paint when my phone vibrates on my desk. I sigh, thinking maybe Piston has decided to cancel, which wouldn’t really surprise me, to be honest.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I slink over to my desk and grab it, only to scowl.

Unknown: You can’t keep ignoring my messages, Natalie. Call me…. It’s Dad, by the way.

I snort.

Who else would message me on an unknown number? Oh, right, Chris, my cheating, disgusting ex, calls and texts me from his friends’ phones.

Over three years later, he’s still trying to speak to me. Only yesterday, he cornered me outside of the English building, and that was only a coincidence. He was busy trying to flirt withsome poor, unsuspecting soul, and I didn’t turn around quick enough before he saw me.

Jackass walked away from her without looking back….

Shaking off the past, I lock my phone, ignoring the text, and grab my bag. I take a moment to look around the room, ensuring I switched everything off.

With a nod, I leave the room, locking the door behind me.

For over three years, I’ve only had one phone call from my father, and that was it; it was the day Piston found me crying in my dorm.