If you haven't read part 10, do so here. Or you can start from the beginning.On Monday Mr. Hale gives me three dollars for the coffee shop and tells me to put the change in Brandon's tip jar. I'm angry, and ashamed of myself, but haven't the courage to throw the money in his face and walk away. The book in my plastic sack is heavy; I think it might be Dickens, finally, as payment for the scene I provided yesterday. I'm guiltily looking forward to my reading. I think, I am a whore.
The hand I raise to push the door open is shaking. I'm praying that Brandon is on his break in the back, and that he won't notice how stiffly I'm walking, or mention the events yesterday that sent him running from the house. His tousled head, however, is in its usual spot behind the counter. I debate bolting from the store and shivering in the park for the next hour, but I see him remove his apron and go in the back.
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